*in a Steve Tyler voice* I’m baaack! Back in the saddle again!
Overall, I had quite a fun trip to Indianapolis. It was good to spend some time with Bo, who is one of my bestest friends aside from being my sibling. We are real Formula One race-geeks and it was nice to indulge in in-depth, hard-core race, driver and strategy analysis without boring everyone else to tears. I know what it’s like when someone is totally enthralled by something I either don’t know much about or have no interest in knowing about, so I try to keep the gearhead stuff to a minimum unless I’m with Bo. For example, if I tell Cheryl an F-1 story it’s generally a story that is funny or interesting in and of itself, F-1 being merely the context, as opposed to discussing whether or not Eddie Jordan’s radical recalibration of the gear ratios for the EJ-14 are sheer madness or utter genius. (Genius - it was going with Ford V-10 engines that was madness.)
General impressions of this year’s USGP at the Brickyard...well, I’m still enough of a dweeb to be totally enthralled by just being there. A picnic is nice, but a picnic sitting on well-manicured grounds within sight of the famous “Gasoline Alley” sign is enough to send me into paroxysms of joy. “Great to be here, Tony! Love what you’ve done with the place!” Also, it was a Ferrari one-two with Herr Schumacher winning. Chubbs Montoya got black-flagged for driving an illegal car (more on this later - you might be surprised by my take on matters).
The weather was sunny but hot; the date of the race was moved in order to have the USGP and the Canadian GP sequential on the calendar, to avoid shipping the cars, parts, teams and equipment to North America and back twice. Makes sense, but I wasn’t thrilled with the change. From a purely selfish standpoint, my birthday is in September, generally falling about a week prior to the race. People such as my Aunt Betty & Uncle Artis, World’s Greatest Boss, Parental Units, etc. generally give me $$ for my birthday, so it’s good to have cash that I can spend on myself without feeling guilty or wondering if I’ll need it later for food...and having extra dough when you’re on a trip is never a bad idea - so I was a tad unenthusiastic but I can’t expect the FIA to construct its calendar around my convenience (not YET, anyway, BWAHAHAHA). Now that I’ve actually had the experience, though, I still prefer September. Indianapolis is hotter in mid-June than in late September and the difference was enough that the heat was quite unpleasant for me - not unbearable, but unpleasant, particularly given the amount of walking involved. That place is HUGE. If you’ve been somewhere like Atlanta Motor Speedway or Charlotte, no - there’s no comparison. To put the size of this place in perspective, there is a road course, a lake, a hotel and a full golf course inside the infield. And...I’m not lazy but I do have respiratory issues such that it’s better if I don’t get overheated; although my problems are NOTHING compared to what some people deal with every day, and although I never really felt like an attack was coming on, still the heat meant that the possibility wasn’t far from my mind either. So I was uncomfortable, and it was a worry, and that worry didn’t exist when the race was in the autumn.
Our seats were different this year. Since 2000, I’ve sat in Tower Terrace (if you’re familiar with the track, to your left if you’re looking at the pagoda) but they were erecting temporary grandstands just for this race and I thought it would be fun to see parts of the road course instead of the oval. In a way, our new seats were FABULOUS. We could see turns 8, 9, 10 (the hairpin) and part of turn 11. Since the cars must slow so much for the hairpin, we could see them for longer periods and in more detail than ever before; they were also much closer to us even than during our pit walkthrough. However, there were no video monitors anywhere near us, which was a major detraction. Hmm...maybe it sounds strange to go see something live, only to complain that you can’t see it on tv, so let me explain.
A road course is full of turns and twists. The USGP uses about half the oval of the Indy 500 course and then a twisty-turny path through the infield so all parts of the course are not visible from any one point. Moreover, any time that a race course is over 2 miles long (this one being 2.6 miles - okay, 2.607, I’m a race-geek), stuff is going to be happening on parts of the track that you can’t see, no matter where you choose to sit. The cars are very, very loud so once they get kinda spread out, you can’t hear the audio commentary much either. If you want to know how many seconds a pit stop took (which my race-geek self does), much less what is going on on the other parts of the track, you need to be near a video screen. In the past, the Hulman-George family (owners/operators of Indianapolis Motor Speedway) have been great about this and no matter where you sat, you were never far from a monitor. This new stand, though - nothing, zilch, zip. So although I got a significantly better view of the cars and I got to see most of the passing opportunities that exist on the track, I missed: the start including a four-car schmozzle, Ralf’s crash on turn 13, Fred’s crash on turn 1, several passes including Michael’s on Rubens for the lead. Furthermore, I got no reports at the scene - had to wait and look it up on the ‘net to find out if Ralf was even still alive. After his horrendous crash and a long, long, looooong time extracting him from the destroyed car, I watched the ambulance off-load his gurney into the medical center less than 100 yards away from me. Based on what I observed personally, I was terrified. Were medical personnel being so casual because there was no need (good), or because it was too late for there to be a need (bad - very, very bad)? Couldn’t tell, didn’t know. Less importantly, I still wanted to know why Chubbs Montoya got black-flagged; we knew he was out of the race but had no idea why until it was long over. As much as I liked our new seats, I hated being cut off from any communication about the goings-on elsewhere. I’m sitting back in Tower Terrace or springing for Paddock Penthouse next year - eff this.
Okay, Chubbs got black-flagged. For my non-gearhead readers, a black flag with the car number signifies that you return to the pit area immediately, do not pass go, do not collect $200, get your happy ass off course - usually with the implication that you’re being excluded from the race. Not to be confused with a black flag with an orange circle, which means that the car must pit because of a mechanical problem - like maybe it’s spewing oil onto the track, creating a hazard for other drivers, but if you get it fixed, you can continue. Montoya got black-flagged with his car number and was ordered out of the race from fourth position. I have since read two news stories about why. Factually, Chubbs couldn’t get his car to start on the grid so he abandoned it and ran to get the team’s backup car and started from the pit lane. I have read conflicting accounts that (a) although the backup car was 100% legal in terms of specs and had passed FIA inspection, it lacked the appropriate sticker certifying same; (b) Chubbs didn’t make it off the grid, into the backup car and onto the course quickly enough to qualify as having started the race.
As much as I loathe the whiny little minger, as much as I greet a Montoya DNF with glee, as much as I delight in his failure, I hereby state that this was complete BULLSHIT. Whichever reason for the black flag, it existed from the start. It should not have taken race stewards ninety minutes to figure out the problem and act upon it. If he started illegally, he was illegal from lap one. If the car lacked appropriate certification, it lacked it from lap one. Race officials should not have allowed the poor guy to compete, race with his heart and soul lap after lap, and then pull him out after ninety minutes and (solely by my calculations) fifty-seven laps of racing. That is pure, unadulterated, undiluted BULLSHIT. I mean...I’d be the first to point and laugh if he spun into a gravel trap, ran out of fuel or screwed up, and even I think this is utter CRAP. Once they’d let it go that long, the stewards should have let him finish the race and then (for example) stripped his team of Constructors’ Points while letting his Driver’s Points and finishing order stand. Wrong, wrong, wrong; bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. And I don’t even like him - imagine how his fans feel. It’s true I don’t like his whiny little ass, it’s true I want him out of my sport - but fair is fair, and this absolutely WASN’T. Regardless of my personal opinion (and I have a decided opinion about damn near anything), I also have a very strictly delineated view of right and wrong - and this was just plain WRONG.
More fun and hilarity later...
MONTOYA DELENDA EST!
Overall, I had quite a fun trip to Indianapolis. It was good to spend some time with Bo, who is one of my bestest friends aside from being my sibling. We are real Formula One race-geeks and it was nice to indulge in in-depth, hard-core race, driver and strategy analysis without boring everyone else to tears. I know what it’s like when someone is totally enthralled by something I either don’t know much about or have no interest in knowing about, so I try to keep the gearhead stuff to a minimum unless I’m with Bo. For example, if I tell Cheryl an F-1 story it’s generally a story that is funny or interesting in and of itself, F-1 being merely the context, as opposed to discussing whether or not Eddie Jordan’s radical recalibration of the gear ratios for the EJ-14 are sheer madness or utter genius. (Genius - it was going with Ford V-10 engines that was madness.)
General impressions of this year’s USGP at the Brickyard...well, I’m still enough of a dweeb to be totally enthralled by just being there. A picnic is nice, but a picnic sitting on well-manicured grounds within sight of the famous “Gasoline Alley” sign is enough to send me into paroxysms of joy. “Great to be here, Tony! Love what you’ve done with the place!” Also, it was a Ferrari one-two with Herr Schumacher winning. Chubbs Montoya got black-flagged for driving an illegal car (more on this later - you might be surprised by my take on matters).
The weather was sunny but hot; the date of the race was moved in order to have the USGP and the Canadian GP sequential on the calendar, to avoid shipping the cars, parts, teams and equipment to North America and back twice. Makes sense, but I wasn’t thrilled with the change. From a purely selfish standpoint, my birthday is in September, generally falling about a week prior to the race. People such as my Aunt Betty & Uncle Artis, World’s Greatest Boss, Parental Units, etc. generally give me $$ for my birthday, so it’s good to have cash that I can spend on myself without feeling guilty or wondering if I’ll need it later for food...and having extra dough when you’re on a trip is never a bad idea - so I was a tad unenthusiastic but I can’t expect the FIA to construct its calendar around my convenience (not YET, anyway, BWAHAHAHA). Now that I’ve actually had the experience, though, I still prefer September. Indianapolis is hotter in mid-June than in late September and the difference was enough that the heat was quite unpleasant for me - not unbearable, but unpleasant, particularly given the amount of walking involved. That place is HUGE. If you’ve been somewhere like Atlanta Motor Speedway or Charlotte, no - there’s no comparison. To put the size of this place in perspective, there is a road course, a lake, a hotel and a full golf course inside the infield. And...I’m not lazy but I do have respiratory issues such that it’s better if I don’t get overheated; although my problems are NOTHING compared to what some people deal with every day, and although I never really felt like an attack was coming on, still the heat meant that the possibility wasn’t far from my mind either. So I was uncomfortable, and it was a worry, and that worry didn’t exist when the race was in the autumn.
Our seats were different this year. Since 2000, I’ve sat in Tower Terrace (if you’re familiar with the track, to your left if you’re looking at the pagoda) but they were erecting temporary grandstands just for this race and I thought it would be fun to see parts of the road course instead of the oval. In a way, our new seats were FABULOUS. We could see turns 8, 9, 10 (the hairpin) and part of turn 11. Since the cars must slow so much for the hairpin, we could see them for longer periods and in more detail than ever before; they were also much closer to us even than during our pit walkthrough. However, there were no video monitors anywhere near us, which was a major detraction. Hmm...maybe it sounds strange to go see something live, only to complain that you can’t see it on tv, so let me explain.
A road course is full of turns and twists. The USGP uses about half the oval of the Indy 500 course and then a twisty-turny path through the infield so all parts of the course are not visible from any one point. Moreover, any time that a race course is over 2 miles long (this one being 2.6 miles - okay, 2.607, I’m a race-geek), stuff is going to be happening on parts of the track that you can’t see, no matter where you choose to sit. The cars are very, very loud so once they get kinda spread out, you can’t hear the audio commentary much either. If you want to know how many seconds a pit stop took (which my race-geek self does), much less what is going on on the other parts of the track, you need to be near a video screen. In the past, the Hulman-George family (owners/operators of Indianapolis Motor Speedway) have been great about this and no matter where you sat, you were never far from a monitor. This new stand, though - nothing, zilch, zip. So although I got a significantly better view of the cars and I got to see most of the passing opportunities that exist on the track, I missed: the start including a four-car schmozzle, Ralf’s crash on turn 13, Fred’s crash on turn 1, several passes including Michael’s on Rubens for the lead. Furthermore, I got no reports at the scene - had to wait and look it up on the ‘net to find out if Ralf was even still alive. After his horrendous crash and a long, long, looooong time extracting him from the destroyed car, I watched the ambulance off-load his gurney into the medical center less than 100 yards away from me. Based on what I observed personally, I was terrified. Were medical personnel being so casual because there was no need (good), or because it was too late for there to be a need (bad - very, very bad)? Couldn’t tell, didn’t know. Less importantly, I still wanted to know why Chubbs Montoya got black-flagged; we knew he was out of the race but had no idea why until it was long over. As much as I liked our new seats, I hated being cut off from any communication about the goings-on elsewhere. I’m sitting back in Tower Terrace or springing for Paddock Penthouse next year - eff this.
Okay, Chubbs got black-flagged. For my non-gearhead readers, a black flag with the car number signifies that you return to the pit area immediately, do not pass go, do not collect $200, get your happy ass off course - usually with the implication that you’re being excluded from the race. Not to be confused with a black flag with an orange circle, which means that the car must pit because of a mechanical problem - like maybe it’s spewing oil onto the track, creating a hazard for other drivers, but if you get it fixed, you can continue. Montoya got black-flagged with his car number and was ordered out of the race from fourth position. I have since read two news stories about why. Factually, Chubbs couldn’t get his car to start on the grid so he abandoned it and ran to get the team’s backup car and started from the pit lane. I have read conflicting accounts that (a) although the backup car was 100% legal in terms of specs and had passed FIA inspection, it lacked the appropriate sticker certifying same; (b) Chubbs didn’t make it off the grid, into the backup car and onto the course quickly enough to qualify as having started the race.
As much as I loathe the whiny little minger, as much as I greet a Montoya DNF with glee, as much as I delight in his failure, I hereby state that this was complete BULLSHIT. Whichever reason for the black flag, it existed from the start. It should not have taken race stewards ninety minutes to figure out the problem and act upon it. If he started illegally, he was illegal from lap one. If the car lacked appropriate certification, it lacked it from lap one. Race officials should not have allowed the poor guy to compete, race with his heart and soul lap after lap, and then pull him out after ninety minutes and (solely by my calculations) fifty-seven laps of racing. That is pure, unadulterated, undiluted BULLSHIT. I mean...I’d be the first to point and laugh if he spun into a gravel trap, ran out of fuel or screwed up, and even I think this is utter CRAP. Once they’d let it go that long, the stewards should have let him finish the race and then (for example) stripped his team of Constructors’ Points while letting his Driver’s Points and finishing order stand. Wrong, wrong, wrong; bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. And I don’t even like him - imagine how his fans feel. It’s true I don’t like his whiny little ass, it’s true I want him out of my sport - but fair is fair, and this absolutely WASN’T. Regardless of my personal opinion (and I have a decided opinion about damn near anything), I also have a very strictly delineated view of right and wrong - and this was just plain WRONG.
More fun and hilarity later...
MONTOYA DELENDA EST!
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