Tony's on the Right Track - Literally.
By Greg Miller

Unlike nearly everyone else in the world, I've not taken sides on the fading IRL/CART issue. Not that I don't enjoy a good argument, mind you. It always seemed to me that the issues surrounding that controversy were not as destructive to the sport as it appeared at first glance. At any rate, the war is over.

CART teams have solidified into a force and they chose to flex their newfound muscle by no longer conceding to Tony George's whims for the 500. Further, they have paid in full the heavy price for their insubordination by giving up participation in the May classic. This is an impressive feat.

Calculated risks have been taken by both sides. No doubt both sides knew that the fracas would not be bloodless. However, both seem to be motoring along their chosen new paths with newfound purpose. A new engine and chassis is in place for the IRL along with a growing schedule. Meanwhile, CART is as popular as ever with no shortage of venues waiting for a date. But something was left out of this new racing landscape.

That one exception is located at 16th and Georgetown in Indianapolis. The Indianapolis Motor Speedway's bigger-than-life aura has taken a beating.

Tony George made the choice to trade the reputation of his banner event to gain greater control over the U.S. racing ecosystem. Visiting the Speedway's museum recently I spoke with one of the numerous "yellow shirts" (the retired gentlemen who volunteer their time at the speedway's museum). He had 100 stories on the tip of his tongue about races as far back as the early 1950s but not a single word for the last two events.

Looking at the situation objectively, we are left with one single fact: The Indianapolis 500 is now an event for a second-tier of motor sport.

The IRL may be a good tier but it's a second tier nonetheless. The Brickyard 400? A gaggle of carb-u-lated, yester-tech, adjust-it-with-a-crowbar chariots may bring in the folk but it just doesn't have that "pinnacle of motorsports" feel to it. The Indianapolis Motor Speedway should be at the first-tier of motor sport and it's simply not there now.

Now that the cards have been played, how can Tony George heal his only war wound and return the Speedway to its former glory? He has but two choices: 1) Somehow bring back CART teams and drivers to the Indy 500 (and dine on a nice crow entree) or 2) Bring the United States Grand Prix to a permanent home at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. Option 2 seems to be Tony George's focus again as of late (discussion and plans surfaced around 1990 as well).

The fact is, a huge opportunity does exist for Tony George to host a first tier motor sport event - Formula One.

Tony George has deep pockets and he's savvy enough to know that F1 is the pinnacle of motor sport despite his down-home, oval track rhetoric. F1 is still stinging from some previous USGP events and likely won't be back unless it has a gold-plated venue with proper funding and facilities such as permanent garages, a permanent road course, seating, infrastructure, and world-recognition. Tony George happens to have such a place that could use a shot of the prestige and cache that F1 carries around like an odor. Hosting an F1 race is the smartest thing Tony George could ever do right now.

COUNTER-THOUGHTS
By Denise McCluggage

George and Ecclestone. The mind reels.

I can remember when the Indianapols 500 granted points counting toward the World Championship - some political stuff with the AAA (pre-USAC) being the offical FIA rep in the U.S. No one took it seriously. That was some furriner stuff.

But then the ecumencial movement in racing began and Indianapolis was no more made-in-USA. Even the IRL is peopled by a surfiet of passport-carrying carpetbaggers. The IRL was partially motivated by the perceived need to temper the foreign encroachment and return to American roots and red-white-and-blue ovals instead of so many road races.

A touch ironic, isn't it, that Tony George's bacon could be saved by the ultimate in road races - Formula One? And they will have to build a really good road course. (Oh, my - just had a flashing image of F1 on the oval. Back to the bricks everyone...

(By the way, I take exception to Greg's slaps at NASCAR. Whatever tier you may talk, no racing is any better racing than NASCAR. And you might be surprised at how complicated those cars are. And the drivers, may providence protect them, know how their bread got buttered and are not only accessible to the public and the press but civil to them.)

Keep the revs up!

Denise

The Ticket Experience
by Greg Miller

I don't like getting traffic tickets. It's not so much the money, or the driving record points, it's the mental anguish. On the road shoulder, those furious red and blue flashing lights lash and lick at my poor arrested car in some sort of optical public flogging and humiliation. It's so personal! It ruins my whole month.

February was trashed by a young Illinois state trooper as I traveled along a lovely series of fast sweepers on Route 121 near Mt. Pulaski. I say sweepers but they're actually giant chicanes placed so motorists avoid becoming unwitting customers of the grain elevators that hug the railroad paralleling the highway. Not quite as noble as Loewe's perhaps, but a good curve needs no venerating cause. Who thinks less of the carousal at Road America because it's there to avoid a gravel pit?

My crime against society was 72 in a 55. It was a lovely and crisp day with light traffic, no cell phone in hand, no radar detector on my dash, no radio blaring in my ear, seat belt fastened, both hands on the wheel, and smile on my face. Yep, a rolling hazard was I.

It has been over 10 years since I'd received my last ticket (believe it or not, that one was for 70 in a 65). Frankly, I was a bit nervous-like prom night. What should I say?

Weird Lie? "I'm working on my PhD dissertation in physiology, and I'm measuring the effect of a traffic stop on the pulse and respiration of the average male being arrested....Ooookeee, pulse, and respiration are up....thank you officer, I'll be on my way now."

Routine Lie? "I'm late for work because I had to pick up my boss's laundry, buy my wife a bouquet of flowers, and read a story to my 2-year-old."

Conscientious Objection? "Speeding tickets are simply another taxation and repression of the middle class. I'll bet you even take credit cards, don't you?"

Intimidation? "I have a legion of lawyers on my payroll and they are like pit bulls on a poodle when they get a state police officer on the stand. By the way, when was your radar device last calibrated?"

No. None of these seemed right. Then he spoke.
"This a '96?," as he studied the VIN on my Nissan Maxima with 115,000 miles. "Ahhhh, no it's a 1990." It's about then that I scratch the Car Guy excuse I was desperately mulling and made a mental note to buy some more Zymol.

In the end, I chose the silent treatment. Give me my due if you must, but I will not beg! I thanked him for the compliment and he handed me my summons.

"Have a safe trip" he said.

"I was" I replied.