Night-before Nuggets

I had a full-fledged post going, and it was tentatively titled, "33 1/3." It was to go on at intestinal-turning length about how having exactly one-third of this year's Indianapolis 500 field as Americans is the perfect balance between domestic and import. But, AIN'T NOBODY GOT TIME FOR THAT.

It's the night before The Big Show, so let's get on with some random musings, shall we?

Right.

We're doing our part. My fellow Social Media Garage grease monkeys and I "interviewed" the director of Turbo, yesterday. Nice man. Anywho, I make a point to say there's an incredible buzz in the IndyCar community about his new animated film about a snail that dreams of racing in the Indianapolis 500. His response: "Oh, really? Great!"

MOTHER.

Look, I've been pounding the idea that the tide about this movie needs to swing back toward IndyCar for it to do us any good. The fact David Soren had no idea we've been pimping Turbo, like we have, is certainly disappointing, but we're doing the right thing and it's all we can do. Frowny face. Keep on keeping on.   

Tha-tha-tha-thrilla... You lingering Paul Tracy fans--"Hi, I'm Chris, and I'm a PT fan"--he is at The Speedway, working the Canadian telly broadcast. Good to see him in the environs, regardless of the circumstances. By the way: Their broadcast stage is at the exit of turn 4 on the inside. Cool location, though, I'll prolly never see shots from it.

Peace and quiet. Made mention of it on Twitter, but worth stating, again. IMS on Legends Day is a joy--a crazy dichotomy in comparison to the day before, Carb Day. Unrestrained debauchery is (thankfully) replaced with a refreshing dose of measured reverence for the Indy 500. A great day just to wander and soak in the magic. If you haven't made it to one, make it a point.

Write it down. Number 8, Ryan Briscoe, is your 2013 Indianapolis 500 champion. Yeah, he starts 23rd. Yeah, it's a Honda. Yeah, it's a one-off, but he's capable. I made the prediction at the start of May and I'm sticking to it.

The only way to start race day. 9:30 in the Social Media Garage, of course. Steph Wallcraft, of More Front Wing fame, is pulling together an informal tweetup to kick off race day and provide us all a chance to connect before the month ends, way too soon. Simply, if you're on the grounds, no reason not to be there. Hope to see you.

Can you hear me, now? It's always difficult for me to get tweets out on race day, so you may get a well-earned day off--or not. Stay tuned. 

Early to bed... Tomorrow begins early--like, tonight, to be exact. I've heard arrival times anywhere from 4:00 am to 6:00, depending. SIMMER. This is not a complaint. Just a testament to the deep-seated love folks have for this venerable event.  

Go for a drive. If you can appreciate grand, vintage architecture, take a spin up Indianapolis' Meridian St. Just beautiful, and long--the homes just keep going.

Pay homage to Thr3e Wise Men. Located in Indy's trendy Broad Ripple district, 3WM is a micro brewery and eatery. House-made brews and tasty sandwiches and pizza. Nod to Steve Wittich and his better half, Liz for the intoxicating tip. 

More than just a job. If you don't think Mr. Randy Bernard was emotionally invested in the IZOD IndyCar Series, check out his last few tweets. What exec trods back to the execution grounds, just because he cares? And keeps his former employer's name in his Twitter handle? Not dredging up an argument, just saying...

Monster Bash. Curt Cavin tweeted, today, that in its 6-year existence, the Carb Night Burger Bash has raised nearly $100,000 for charity. STRONG. On top of that, it's become a must if your in town on Indy 500 Friday. Proper recognition to Mr. Johnny Rutherford, Scott Dixon, Alex Tagliani, Conor Daly, and Pippa Mann for showing up, last night, to give the fans a little bit of payback.

That's quite enough. This was supposed to be short.

Look. Whether your at home or at the track, tomorrow, just have a great day. If it's not an awesome race, I'll eat my hat. The most wonderful time of year doesn't come around often enough, so savor every moment.

Thanks for reading and following.

--Chris

It's our playground, b******

A message needs to be sent—one that's loud and clear—that if you want to participate in our series, fanfreakintastic! But we make the rules... we decide who's in charge and, as such, if you attempt to circumvent our authority, we WILL knock your d*** in the dirt, faster than you can say, "Supertex is a girly man."

That, of course, assumes these allegations are correct. And I'm one who subscribes to the belief that where there's smoke there's fire.

Right. So maybe the punishment isn't instant banishment, as Norris McDonald suggests, but something that is very...um...EXCRUCIATINGLY PAINFUL? Absurd fines, points dockage, grid penalties... the choice is yours. Doesn't matter to me, just that it hurts like hell.

Will they pick up their toys and take them to NASCAR or ALMS? Doubt it, but maybe. I don't really care. I'd rather have a smaller number of car owners playing along than constantly planning an insurrection. It's time to put an end to this sort of mentality. It's been around way too long and, frankly, no other organization would tolerate it. Period.

BTW: NOT trying to change anyone's opinion, but if you support Randy Bernard, walk the walk, and hit up the link.

I think we're done here. Let's not live in fear of our own car owners, anymore, K?

—Chris

...now you gotta show up

Randy just smashed an overhead lob into your court. Check it:

You've received a personal invitation from the man himself. No more whinging and whining about inclusion and transparency. The Series is making an effort—now you need to by proverbially putting up, or shutting your pie hole.

As fans, this is not the image
we want to project

Best case scenario, show up at the Hilbert Circle Theatre round about 5:30 on Monday, with 26 of your closest friends, and grab one of the 1,781 FREE seats. Settle in, and get the dealio on the state of our beloved sport. IMPORTANT: Seating is first come, first served, so don't screw the pooch.

A personal show of support is ideal, but if you absolutely can't make it, BE SURE to log on to IndyCar.com, where all the action will be streamed LIVE, in your face, via the Internet.

What: State of IndyCar Presentation
When: Monday, February 13, 2012 at 5:30 pm
Where: Hilbert Circle Theatre, 45 Monument Circle, Indianapolis or streaming at IndyCar.com

Let's DO THIS.

—JM

52-card Pickup

On the morning of October 16th, in Las Vegas, Randy Bernard had IndyCar's deck stacked perfectly—nary a card or corner out of place.

That afternoon, fate took that carefully laid plan into its hands and fanned it callously into the air—in some respects, drawing the very existence of the sport into question.

Many urgent and highly consequential challenges are now being faced.    

Patience and understanding...

—JM

The "Fab Five" Shouldn't be Invited to Crash the Party

I'm guessing, other IndyCar drivers
have similar sentiments to Will's
Photo: indycar.com

Leave it up to the quiet speedster, Will Power, to be the voice of reason with all the frothing going on over the IndyCar Vegas finale. I had just put the finishing touches on my list of five favorites ("Cha Cha" Muldowney, Alberto Contador, Shaun White, Kenny Roberts, and Joey Chestnut) when William had to get all up and reasonable in this piece by Marshall Pruett.

“You just need to be careful who [is invited]. It has the potential to be pretty dangerous if the wrong people are let out there because you can’t have a guy who doesn’t have a lot of experience running in a top category like this on a fast oval. I know before I ever did ovals, I looked at them and thought how scary they looked. Kind of crazy, really. After a few years of doing them now, you forget about how fast you’re actually going and forget about the stuff that used to scare you. But, for a guy coming over and doing his first proper oval race in an IndyCar, and it doesn’t matter who it is, it’s still a pretty eye opening thing. It’s no joke.”

Yea, no joke. 220, 221... whatevs. Four open wheels and a bunch ballers vying for the season IndyCar crown is no place for Dennis Anderson, or the like.

It's the proverbial double-edged sword: in some ways, you want the drivers with the least experience, for the pub; on the other hand, the ones with the most experience, for safety and to maintain the integrity of the event.

So, Randy, when it comes to the Sin City Shootout, I am ALL IN, bud. But let's keep the sentiments of one Willy P. in mind: sometimes, even in Vegas, you have to play it SAFE.

—JM

Randy’s listening... No, REALLY, he’s listening.

Tweeting? Maybe...
Photo: Paul Dalbey, morefrontwing.com 

[1/15/11: 4:54 pm] Editor's Note: Since this update was originally posted, Arni Sribhen has clarified that Randy Bernard is "...not on twitter yet...but he's nearly there." In addition, Sribhen indicated that, when Bernard is active on Twitter, it has yet to be determined whether his account will be "open," or whether his identity will be concealed. Stay tuned, peeps...

Knowing Randy Bernard’s kooky philosophy of actually wanting to hear what fans have to say about the state of the IZOD IndyCar Series, I’ve often wondered if, maybe, he was covertly monitoring Twitter as a way of gauging fan feelings. After all, Twitter’s where it all goes down, right?

Well, we now have confirmation he does, indeed, walk among us.

After Tony Kanaan met with Mr. Bernard, yesterday, he tweeted this:

Shortly thereafter, Arni Sribhen, Media Relations Coordinator for IndyCar, responded with this:

BAM.

The point? The leader of the IndyCar Series is a fan-friendly STUD (until proven otherwise) and he is listening to what you have to say.

So, all the more reason to (respectfully) tweet your concerns, or votes of confidence, about the greatest racing series on the planet, because who knows what the Series’ response might be?

Tzit...

...and, Mr. Bernard, if you’re in earshot, I heart you, man.

—JM

Standing “O” for the Supporting Cast

Randy Bernard is the front man,

but he’s not accomplishing the Series’ goals alone

Photo: Ron McQueeney, IndyCar.com

There’s been a virtual tsunami of epic IndyCar news over the past several months, with the latest wave coming via Tuesday’s “State of IndyCar” address in Indianapolis.

Much of the credit has been thrown Lord Randall’s way and, for the record, I AM ALL ABOUT THAT—you’ll find no bigger supporter of Randy Bernard than I. But... as the saying goes [it either really is a saying, or I’m just making it up... whatevs], “no great leader goes it alone.”

The plans laid out by the Series are ambitious, at a minimum—and there’s a shizzle-load of work that’s already been accomplished and that still lays ahead. That requires an entire TEAM of very talented, hardworking, and motivated people. Randy has that and, in my mind, they need to be recognized.   


I won’t begin to try and name all those involved because, frankly, I have no clue as to who they all are. Let’s just assume it’s pretty much everyone at IndyCar, plus peeps at IMS and, I’m sure, a whole lot of other folks. A big round of applause to you all, plus I’d like to throw in some special recognition for the car czar, Tony Cotman.

I’m fairly certain my schilling of Tony’s brand only runs second to Robin Miller’s, but that’s neither here nor there. The fact is this 2012 car thing is HARD. T.C. has a new safety cell to worry about, four-ish body kits and three engine manufacturers to get all dancing in a 230-mph ballet, and it all has to be accomplished in an insanely short amount of time. 

Despite all that, Tony just quietly goes about his business GIT'N R DONE. For that, Mr. Cotman, I say good on ya’, sir. 

I think we’re done here... just 72 short more days, peeps. ;)

—JM 

“I hope you choke on that whistle, you old bag o’ dirt!”

Bernard is making moves to remove some of
the barriers between drivers and young fans 

Harsh? Sorrrry… [bows head, sheepishly kicks ground]

Truth is, that little outburst has been percolating for, oh, approximately 26.6 years.

See, back in the day, as a young lad [computers clicking off furiously], I BS’d my way onto an Indycar team for the month of May—I was 18, infant-faced, and wholly incompetent (beside the point). Awesome opportunity, though, huh?!

Ruh-roh. PROBLEM.

At the time (1984; “Jump!”), the minimum age to get into the garage area at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway [angels softly sing out “ahhhhhh”] was 21.

Mind you, I haven’t had much interaction with them recently, but back then [last reader nods off, drools slightly], the IMS Safety Patrol, aka “Yellow Shirts,” who manned the garage area gates, could be described—stereotypically, yes—as a group of mature gentlemen of a certain, advanced level of simmering RAGE (picture an army of A.J. Foyts [there go the angels again] with police whistles).

[Get to the point, man!] Okay. Let’s just say the Yellow Shirts were VERY good at upholding the official Safety Patrol oath which, in section 3.7 clearly states, “I don’t care if it’s Queen Mary Hulman herself, if they look under 21, card the little pr*$@#!” (bold-faced lie).

So, despite being uniformed, credentialed, and often having arms filled with car parts or wheeling a set of tires, etc., po-po always got their man—me.

What ensued for the next month (and, ultimately, years into the future) was a cat-and-mouse game with the Yellow Shirts that involved me sneaking from one entrance to the next, trying to hide in crowds, or rushing the gates like festival seating at a Bublé concert.

Unfortunately for you, this quirky little anecdote has very little to do with the actual point of this post. All I really wanted to do was serve up a big, jumbo-sized “AWESOME” to you, Sir Randall, for very wisely lowering the minimum age for entry into the IMS garage area to 9 (allegedly—no official announcement, yet, I don’t believe).

Not only will this maneuver provide pint-sized IndyCar fans the killer opportunity to get close to the action that I never had [complete symphony of violins at full throttle], but it also opens up a whole new talent pool for the teams.

Damn it, Randy, you’ve done it again. And I don’t mind saying, right here and now, I heart you with a love deep, strong, and true...

—JM

Editor’s note: Dear IMS Safety Patrol (and their groupies): First, thank you for your service. Second, please do NOT put a contract out on me. No ill will was meant by the above comments, and I know you carry out a thankless task for little recognition and equal pay—you’re just doing your job, and that’s completely understood... we still good? [barely misses a Luyendyk backhand]

Size Matters: Put Something in That Man’s Hands He Can be Proud of

This isn’t Latvian Formula 3... THIS is the IZOD IndyCar Series. The most absurdly challenging open-wheel discipline on the planet. So, as a fan, every time I see a driver whip out his tiny bottle of bubbly and attempt to celebrate a hard-earned victory, as Mr. Judd did last weekend, I feel like donning a dress.

It’s embarrassing. IndyCar may not be ruling the popularity wars just yet but, as the saying goes, “act like you’ve been there before.”

With props to you, Mr. Bernard, for your accomplishments, thus far, and with due respect, my charge to you is to allow that champion to wrap his hands around something that turns the dudes green with envy and the ladies rosy with embarrassment—in other words, CHAMPAGNE SHOCK AND AWE.

A monumental magnum of the authentic stuff (or a nice domestic sparkling wine, would also be lovely) that allows the winner to put his full manhood on display and bathe those adoring fans, over and over again, in the shared fruits of victory—a bottle that shadows Wilson and Rahal... one that Viso could swim in.

Not too much to ask, I dare say. I’m confident there’s a plethora of fine vintners out there that would leap at the chance to provide the goods, F.O.C., in exchange for a bit of pub with the Series.

Are there bigger fish to fry? Nope. It's a small thing, but one that will make a measurable difference in the perception of IndyCar.

Cheers.

—JM