Truth truly is stranger than fiction.
I freely confess to always puddling up twice during the pre-race ceremonies of the Indianapolis 500. The first time takes place during the playing of “Taps” as I recall the many conversations with my late father about his time in the military during World War II plus Korea and afterwards. The second time is during “Back Home Again In Indiana” as it stirs thoughts of the place I only briefly called home yet will forever consider to be as much my home as the San Francisco Bay Area where I was born, raised and have spent 99.9% of my time on this planet. Yes, I am a sentimental bag of mush.
Well, this year I watched someone else puddle up.
At least it was for a happy reason.
As was mentioned a couple of days ago, I grew up with Indy cars as my first auto racing love courtesy of my Dad. Although NASCAR has good ol’ boy-d its way into my heart, open wheel will always hold a special place for me. Especially the Indianapolis 500. It’s not a race. It’s part of my life.
This year’s race had a lot of elements going into today bringing hope it, and open wheel racing in general, are beginning to reclaim the place they once held among the main players in sports, the kind that even casual fans know something about. No small part of this stems from Danica Patrick’s willingness to both mix it up with the boys and tease the bejeebers out of them with assorted magazine photo shoots. However, this time through Mrs. Hospenthal wasn’t the main focus of attention although you never would have known it by ABC’s broadcast of the race which was pretty much all Danica most all of the time. Rather, it was an ebullient, emotional driver whose closest contact with a car this time last month appeared to be making license plates for a few years.
In retrospect, now that he’s been either acquitted of all charges against him or had them dropped the notion of Helio Castroneves plotting to avoid paying taxes seems as ludicrous as the race officials who tried to keep him from climbing the fence today after his win. Castroneves could no more hide anything from anyone than a puppy can make a subtle entrance into a room filled with people. In fact, he’s as close to a puppy as you’re going to find in sports today. With Helio, you know exactly what’s on his mind at any given moment, which with all due respect is seldom quantum physics. Live, love, laugh, drive fast. That’s pretty much it. Helio was born to be the IRL’s blast of sunshine, an blessedly unsophisticated cherub lighting up the scene wherever he goes. While a jury of his peers found him not guilty based on the evidence, surely part of its consideration was the sheer illogic of it all. This guy cheat on his taxes? Yeahright. He’s too busy walking little old ladies across the street, flirting all the way.
Back to today’s race. Given how the only certainty in motorsports is that when everything’s going right something must be wrong, the temptation going into the competition was assuming this would not be Castroneves’ day. He was on the pole. He had the fastest practice times. He even had the fastest pit crew. What could possibly go right? As it turns out, pretty much everything. Although not always the fastest, he never lost sight of the lead. While other favorites had issues, he kept it clean. And when it was winning time, he did what champions do: take off and become a dot on the horizon.
Meanwhile, as Dan Wheldon reminded Chip Ganassi why he should have added a third car rather than dumping him for Dario Franchitti Danica reminded one and all she can drive, staying sane and smart throughout the proceedings en route to a solid third place finish. Not her fault she didn’t have anything for Helio at the end. No one had anything for him at the end other than unbridled affection. It might not have been the greatest Indianapolis 500 ever run, but it was certainly one of the most satisfying. And for that we can all bask in the glow of racing’s blast of sunshine.
