Not this year
IndyCar, IndyCar commentary — By Steph Wallcraft on May 7, 2012 8:16 amIf you demand blind joviality from your INDYCAR commentary, you might want to take a pass on this one.
(Who am I kidding? If you required blind joviality from your INDYCAR commentary, you would have stopped paying attention to the entire INDYCAR online community at large a long time ago. But I digress.)
I’m not normally one to be a Debbie Downer, and I’ve been kicking this one around for a while trying to decide whether it’s of enough value to warrant inserting a steaming pile of negativity into the INDYCAR conversation. But I’ve concluded that there’s merit in giving a voice to a feeling that it’s possible others share but are loathe to express – because let’s face it: this sentiment can get you excommunicated in certain circles.
I just can’t get into the whole “hip hip hooray, it’s May, it’s May” song and dance. Not this year.
It may surprise some people to learn that this has nothing to do with the whole 32-car field crisis. Reports are surfacing that Jean Alesi has worked out a deal to participate in this year’s 500 after all and that the field is therefore expected to be filled. And even if someone bins it before Pole Day and isn’t able to qualify, I have no worries at all about another entry showing up. For all the hand-wringing and teeth-gnashing that’s been going on, getting to 33 entries has never struck me as being a serious concern. Everyone with the power to do something about this knows how important that number is, and a couple of extra entries are historically not that hard to come by.
One niggling worry I have is the DW12. No one knows for certain how this thing is going to perform with the power down yet. More importantly, no one knows for certain how it’s going to react when it meets the SAFER Barrier at oval speeds, and Indianapolis is a horrible choice as a first place to test that out. Maybe this unsettled feeling is exacerbated by too many years of the comfort that comes with repetition – there was certainly once a time when this unknown existed every single year. The advancements in safety over the last couple of decades have probably made some of us soft. It could very well be that such fears will be completely unfounded and the DW12 will be the safest Indy car of all time. But we don’t know that yet, and it’s been weighing on me a bit.
But that’s really only a small point relative to the larger reason for my inability to play along this year.
The real reason is Dan.
I’m still not over Vegas. I’m far from being over Vegas. I haven’t been able to watch a replay of the accident yet. Every time I come across a photo of it leading into a news story, I get irrationally angry at the media outlet for forcing me to think about it again.
(Stupid, I know. But I have a history of being poor at dealing with these things. The 10th anniversary of Greg Moore’s passing was the second time I watched footage of the crash that took his life, and it was the first time that I fully processed all of the emotions that came with it. What can I say? I’m a bottler. I figure that if I’ve got this one tucked away by year two or three that I’m showing signs of improvement. But… I digress.)
The Vegas incident was different, though. In most other crashes that take a racer’s life – Greg’s included – it’s relatively easy to be objective and say that as much as we may hate it, racing is not a safe sport and these things happen.
I don’t feel that way about Vegas.
No matter how many times I get fed the “perfect storm” line, I still feel strongly that there were warning signs that were ignored and that Dan’s death is something that could have and should have been prevented. Because of that, I’m still deeply in mourning, and I’m still angry – and I’m having a hard time reconciling those feelings with a love of the sport that continues to pervade in spite of it all.
(And I barely knew the guy. I can only imagine how those who were closest to him must feel.)
I’ll never in my life forget sitting in the Paddock holding my five-month-old daughter and watching with my own disbelieving eyes as Dan Wheldon blazed first across the yard of bricks. I’ll never forget the confusion as the fans in my section tried to piece together what had happened since none of us had a clear view of turn 4 and the track PA was impossible to make out through the din. I’ll never forget watching Dan pull into victory lane, climb out of his car, and frolic around like a kid high on sugar, clearly still in disbelief himself.
There was no hiding the fact that Indianapolis meant everything to Dan Wheldon.
There will be a great many tributes to Dan and to that win this month, and I’ll be taking them in with a heart heavy not with resigned sadness but with smouldering bitterness. To my mind, he should still be here and preparing to defend that win.
I’ll still be at the track on May 27th come hell or high water, and it’s entirely possible that by the time the green flag falls this will be behind me and I’ll be ready to enjoy the Greatest Spectacle in Racing for everything it is.
But for now, I’m just not feeling the May celebratory vibe. Not this year.
Tags: Dan Wheldon, Indianapolis Motor Speedway, Indy 500
In many ways, I think the same as you in that most any death is rarely a random event and any one of 100 things could have prevented it. Yet the universe seems to have a way of injecting chaos into our wont of predictability and stability.
For me, spending Memorial Day at IMS is not only a reminder of those who’ve given their life in service of our country, but also of those who’ve been maimed or killed in the name of racing. It seems a place where you can feel the spirits of those people.
I don’t know if it helps any Paul, but I use that weekend to reflect on many people’s lives, especially those who aren’t with us, and celebrate the positive impact they afforded me..
..and, ultimately, I guess there’s few places I’d rather be than at IMS to celebrate those lives we cherish. I also seem to be more comfortable blubbering my way through Back Home Again, hiding behind sunglasses, if, for only those 2 minutes annually, bittersweetly reflecting on the past and celebrating the present.
I hope you can too.
oops sorry, Steph (not Paul).
You are not alone. This year is going to be a tough one for my husband and myself. Dan won the first race we ever went to together. I was pregnant with our oldest son that year. He was born later that year on October 16th. He has a passion for racing that I have never seen in a little kid. His 6th birthday party was centered around the final IndyCar race of the season this past year. Our family was front and center of the televsion celebrating his birthday when the wreck happened. It was terrible for us all and our son was devastated. We have always been IndyCar fans but this year I felt something deeper for the sport after the wreck. We still haven’t quite gotten over October 16th and I am hoping to feel a sense of closure when we spend time at IMS in the next few weeks. Dan was special. He was special to our son. I went to my first 500 when I was 8 years old. I went several times throughout my teens, and now I will not miss a race. I am always excited but this year is a different. Excited but sad at the same time. I know we are going to shed more tears than usual this year during the pre-race ceremonies. RIP DW
Good article. Any idea if/when indycar.com will post podcasts of the races? I miss them. Keep up the good work.
Heartfelt and sincere. The very essence of great writing.
Thanks for this. You’re not the only one. I love having European/worldwide heroes like Barrichello and Alesi mixing it up in Indy. Stars like Jim Clark and Emmo and Nigel Mansell add so much excitement… but add the name of Nelson Piquet to that list and you see why I worry.
I began reading the article assuming there were process criticisms to make, opinion about how INDYCAR as a series was doing something horribly wrong or going in some terrible direction – in the eyes of the author – which necessitated hand wringing and gloom and doom.
Instead what I found was grief. I don’t want to trivialize the grief in any way. But I’m not sure if throwing a cloud of gloom over May is helpful or necessary. As a statement of personal feeling and emotion, I can’t argue with you if you are feeling less than thrilled about May because you are still grieving. But I also can’t join you. Dan wouldn’t. Especially not before the Indy 500.
In my mind, there is no better way to honor the passion and legacy of Dan Wheldon than by sucking the marrow out of the Indy 500, reveling it is glory and making every joyful moment meaningful – by consciously connecting it to the legacy of Dan and celebrating him through the wonderful events of May – events that he lived for.
The 2012 Season has already been one of the most interesting and exciting – on and off track – of recent memory. What a wonderful legacy for Dan, given my opinion that he played a significant role in all that is going right this year.
I for one and looking forward to every moment of May, perhaps more so this year that in years past, and it is not in spite of – but because of – Dan’s memory.
Excellent points all, Andrew. Thanks for that.