It's Time for a New Hall of Fame

With NASCAR opening their shiny, $195 million Hall of Fame this week, and the gates of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway opening to racing for the first time in May later this weekend, it seems appropriate to examine what is becoming a need for American open-wheel racing - a new museum.

Look, I love the Hall of Fame Museum.  Let me say that first and foremost.  But, to anyone who has seen the facility over the years and visited other sports' Halls of Fame, I think it is readily apparent that a new, larger museum would be a boon for the IZOD IndyCar Series and IMS.

With Speedway, Indiana, in the midst of their biggest (and most important) redevelopment since growing up around IMS, both the town and the IndyCar Series have unique opportunities for growth.

For Speedway, the development projects are an opportunity to revitalize local businesses and bring in new business; Dallara has committed to build the new IndyCar chassis in Speedway, should their design be chosen, and I have heard that the Speedway Redevelopment Commission has talked with other manufacturers as well, in order to bring more racing business to the town.

For the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, the development project will hopefully energize an area around the track that is sadly, lacking, to be honest.  Aside from Main Street in Speedway, the local businesses near IMS consist of strip clubs, liquor stores and trailer parks (not that there is anything wrong with any of those businesses).  The redevelopment of Speedway gives IMS a chance to recreate the areas surrounding the track and turning 16th and Georgetown into a tourist destination year-round, not just three times a year.

If you look at the renderings from the Speedway Redevelopment Commission, you can see exactly where a new museum would fit in the landscape of a redeveloped Speedway, Indiana.  For those unfamiliar with the project, 16th Street, which runs along the south end of IMS, would be rerouted further south, basically behind where the IZOD IndyCar Series offices are today.

Two rotaries would be installed - one where 16th Street would hit Holt Road (near Turn 2), and one where 16th Street, Georgetown Road and Crawfordsville Road presently meet.  While the rendering shows a large building outside of Turn 2, no building has been announced for this site.  This is where I propose a new, state-of-the-art Hall of Fame would go.

This new Hall of Fame (which would sit in this area along with relocated IMS and IZOD IndyCar Series offices) would help bring open-wheel racing fans to Speedway on a more consistent basis.

Ideally, the Hall of Fame could be paired with a higher-end hotel near the track, giving fans an alternative to staying downtown, renting an RV, or taking their chances in the hotels down at I-465 and Crawfordsville Road.

No offense to the present Hall of Fame Museum, but it is outdated and can feel cluttered at times.  For those who have seen the museum basement, they come back raving about the hidden treasures and cars of IMS.  Why not expand the space and bring all the sights to see to the museum floor?  It seems to make good marketing sense to me.

Most museums today have interactive booths, allowing participants to get the experience of participating in sport.  For instance, the NCAA Hall of Champions has an exhibit allowing fans to see what a 100-mph tennis serve looks like and another giving fans the opportunity to kick field goals.

An IMS Hall of Fame Museum of the future could host a wide variety of interactive games - from racing simulators to pit crew competitions to allowing fans to record their own calls of historic IMS moments - all of which would allow fans to grow closer to the sport they love.

Yes, being able to see Arie Luyendyk's 1990 Domino's Pizza livery is cool, but imagine being able to sit down  in a chair and race against the 1990 Indianapolis 500 field, or any other race from the track's 100 years.

Not only would fans have an opportunity to learn about the rich history of IMS and open-wheel racing, the Hall of Fame Museum would continue to house cars and motorcycles from other races at the track, enriching the historical relevance Indianapolis holds in racing and automobile circles.

The Hall of Fame portion of the museum could also be expanded, allowing for more detailed biographies of those in the Auto Racing Hall of Fame and for the Indianapolis 500 winners.

For A.J. Foyt, for instance, not only would his Hall of Fame plaque highlight his four Indy 500 wins, fans could see all four cars in one spot; Johnny Rutherford's three winners could go near his plaque as well.  Or the Hall of Fame could have a room devoted to four-time, three-time and two-time winners of Indianapolis.

Booths would give fans the opportunity to pull up a narrated highlight reel of any race at IMS, dating back to 1909.

Any Hall of Fame should reflect the rich history of their sport; I would say that while the IMS Hall of Fame Museum certianly does this, the time is right to expand.  After all with the 100th anniversary of IMS around the corner, the time is now to make sure all comers to Indianapolis gain a full appreciation for the sport.

Looking Back on the 500

At the time, I did not fully realize what IMS meant to me (see here for more), but as I sorted through old college papers over the weekend, I came across a 20-page paper I wrote on the Indianapolis 500 my sophomore year at Boston College for a History of Sport class (I didn't even mind that it was a 9 a.m. Monday-Wednesday-Friday course).

My teacher was an old, East Coast salt, but he remembered the "glory days" of the 500 quite well, as he frequently referred to Indianapolis as "Indiana-no-place," which I suppose it may have been back before the Hoosier Dome and the downtown Renaissance of the 1980's.  In any case, he assigned each student to compose a 20-page paper on a subject of our choice.

Knowing I was heading home over Easter Break (we had 5 days off, courtesy of the Catholic school schedule), I proposed a paper that would incorporate a tour of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway Museum, several books on the subject (including an outstanding biography of Carl Fisher, "The Pacesetter," by Jerry Fisher), and an interview with noted Speedway historian Donald Davidson.

What followed was the longest paper of my college tenure (when you're a Broadcasting & Journalism major, your writing assignments aren't terribly long).  The pictures have been removed from the paper for the sake of brevity, but if you want a detailed assessment of the history and origins of some of the 500's traditions, feel free to take a look by clicking here.

A New Appreciation for Speed

It felt like I was crawling.

No, not my laps at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway on Thursday.  The drive home following the three laps.  Because once you've topped 170 mph in an Indycar, 70 on I-465 just doesn't really compare.

If you're an IndyCar fan, taking a ride with the Indy Racing Experience is a must.  (I'd call it a bucket list item, but that seems too cliche).  And allow me shill for the Indy Racing Experience and Indy Downforce for a moment: for $499 you can purchase your laps around Orlando, IMS or any of the other tracks the IZOD IndyCar Series visits.

But, with a membership in Indy Downforce, you can earn points towards receiving $100 off this price, allowing you, in total, to save roughly $70 off the price (after accounting for your membership).

I had received the ride as a Christmas present (or the money), and finally earned enough Downforce points to get the $100 off in April; I signed up immediately for the first running at IMS, May 6.

It was George Mallory who famously replied when queried about climbing Mount Everest, "Because it's there."  And IMS has been there for 99 years now, challenging all comers.  While running laps at IMS isn't quite the feat that reaching the world's highest peak is, I would argue it comes close, especially after my experience this morning.

The Month of May

Last week, Vision Racing asked via their twitter account, for accounts of how people came to fall in love with the Indianapolis 500 and IndyCar racing.  I replied with a 140-character response, but as we hit the month of May, allow me to expand upon it.

I've spent nearly 24 of my 28 years on this planet living in Indianapolis.  I was born and bred here, before heading out to Boston College for four years and returning after graduation (and enjoying amenities like being able to afford a house for the cost of a studio, cheap beer, etc.).

Growing up in Indianapolis, at least in my house, the month of May took on special properties.  I remember my father running the Mini-Marathon when I was younger; they used to finish the race at the start/finish line in Speedway and bus people back to downtown Indy.  In any case, I remember the negatives they used to send of each participant finishing, and to me, finishing 13.1 miles right where the Indycars did was pretty cool to a 4-year old.

My parents began attending the 500 from the time they moved to Indianapolis in the early 1980's, taking family members over their young son for the entire decade.  They initially had seats in Turn 4, but continually renewed until settling in their current location - Paddock, Section 9, Row BB, Seats 17-20.

Gradually, I got to attend qualifications, maybe to build up my ear resistance to the motors.  As a little kid, I had a few heroes - the Chicago Cubs, Bruce Springsteen's "Born in the USA," and Danny Sullivan.  When I was still too young to attend the race, I remember my parents bringing back the 500 program, and the pull-out of the 33-car grid.  For whatever reason, I was fascinated by all the cars - maybe it was the colors, or the different designs - I couldn't get enough of those grids.

I was 2-and-a-half when the "Spin N' Win" occurred, but throughout the 80's, Danny Sullivan was my guy; when wearing my plastic racing helmet, that's who I was, cornering at Indy.

As I grew up, IMS slowly became more available to me; by fourth grade, I was attending the 500 with my dad; coolers of Coke, Gatorade and a bag of Twizzlers became a race-day tradition, as did waking up early to make roughly 12 sandwiches for me, my dad, and whatever two friends tagged along to the race.

I made every 500 after 1992 but one - Arie Luyendyk's 1997 500 victory; it was eighth grade, and the race was postponed two days by rain.  I wasn't allowed to skip school for the Tuesday race, unfortunately.

By high school, my friends and I were heading to IMS on a regular basis for the 500.  I had one friend fall asleep in the middle of the race - I don't think we invited him back for another 500.  For us, the 500 was a chance to act above our age - we could walk around IMS unsupervised and see all sorts of sights and sounds, especially for the ones who spent Saturday night in Speedway.

In college, the 500 was a reason to come home.  I didn't make it back to Indianapolis too often, but Memorial Day weekend was always circled on the calendar.

It became my goal to get my roommates to the 500, and I largely succeeded.  Introducing IndyCar racing to someone who has never seen it, especially at Indianapolis, was a rush.  You could see their eyes glaze over from sensory overload when the green flag dropped and 33 cars topped 220 mph heading into turn 1.  And by the end of the day, their eyes were crazy with adrenaline from the race and the fatigue of waking up early and imbibing in a beverage or two throughout the weekend.

Indianapolis really hit home to me in my junior year of college, when I spent five months in Sydney, Australia, studying at the University of New South Wales.  Throughout my interactions with people, the 500 was the easiest way to relate to people.  It was practically the first thing that folks brought up when I told them where I was from (that and American foreign policy in 2003).

IMS and the 500 became my tie to home, aside from my family and friends.  Living so far away from home, I clung to the race, not because I missed Indianapolis and America, but because I realized just how much the 500 was an identifier for my home.  People in Australia didn't care about the Pacers, or the Cubs (try watching the 2003 NLCS at 9 a.m. Australian time), but they did identify with IMS and the 500.

Today, it's nearly impossible for me to maintain a dry eye during "Back Home Again in Indiana."

Since graduating, I still enjoy the lure of IMS.  Living in Indy, and having an office from where I can hear the engines on a good day, the sirens' song only grows louder.  I can spend a few more days there now (along with a few more dollars), from Pole Day through the 500, and each new experience at IMS adds to the bank of memories I've accumulated.

These days, I've largely taken over the ticket account from my father, but in doing so, I feel an even stronger tie to those days of my youth, when I was a large-eyed 10 year-old staring out at the expanse of IMS.  I still love bringing newcomers to the track for the race; my wife (then girlfriend) enjoyed her first experience at IMS in 2006 - it probably helped that Marco Andretti damn near won the race.  I knew that she was a keeper, but the fact that she enjoyed the 500 so much only sold me that much more.

Attending the 500 brings back a flood of memories - I still have to buy a program and look at the grid, if nothing else to mention to everyone that I've loved them since my youth.  I still have a secret path to IMS on race day that avoids nearly all traffic and I always park in the same lot.  It still annoys everyone I've ever driven to the 500 that I force everyone up early after a night of revelry to get to IMS early, so we miss traffic.

I remember attending qualifications and races with my mom and dad (it's where I learned who "Lone Star JR" was), and running on the track during the five Mini-Marathons in which I've run.

This year, I'll add a few memories to the 2010 Indianapolis 500 - a track lap with my wife and father in a pace car that we took in mid-April; it was a thrill to top 100 mph in an Impala.  And personally, I'll add the experience of sitting and riding in a two-seater, which I will do on this upcoming Thursday.  I cannot wait until the race, when I can say, "I've done that," as a car corners through turn 1.

Yes, the Indianapolis 500 is about speed, pushing the envelope of the speed/safety balance and the history and pageantry of IMS.  And to another extent, the parties before, during and after the 500.  It's the Snake Pit, the pure American-ness of bringing a cooler of your own beverages into the track, and enjoying a sun-splashed late-spring day in Indianapolis (though as I leave IMS each year, I appreciate being covered in the Paddock).

To me, though, it's more: the month of May brings me back to my home and memories; through all the changes in life throughout the years, the ups and downs, Indianapolis has always been there on Memorial Day weekend, welcoming all comers (and whatever changes in life had occurred in the last year) with open arms.

And come May 30, 2010, I'll make another Indianapolis 500 (my 17th) and add to the memories.  I cannot wait.

Take Scott and Dario on the Road with You

I have no idea where this sits on the Störtebeker-Ganassi Scale of Badassery (copyright The Silent Pagoda) (I would go low on the scale, personally), but you can now take Scott Dixon and Dario Franchitti on family vacation.  While the kids stare mindlessly at their PSP or the video on the TV screen (whatever happened to books and the license plate game?), the Haast Eagle and Sideburns will gently guide you to your destination via TomTom, spouting off phrases like, 

Toll charge.  This is nothing - you should see what an Indycar costs.

Regardless, it's good to see Target-Chip Ganassi Racing using a sponsor to market their drivers, even if I'd rather here Chip's voice guiding me on the way:

No, no, turn around!  The 21st Amendment is back there.  You'll need tequilla - lots of tequilla - for the massive party we're going to.  And cigars.  Big fat, expensive cigars.  And models.  Do they have models in 21st Amendment?  See if that St. Pauli's Girl is in there.  Aww, hell, never mind, I know where to go to find the women.  We'll need two for each arm - don't worry about how many seats are in this car, they'll fit - you're rollin' with the Chipster.

Coincidence? I Think Not

Back in January, I wrote this, suggesting that the IZOD IndyCar Series adopt a means to recognize the street/road, oval and overall champions of the series.

Now, while I don't expect Will Power's wings to be polka-dotted so that people recognize him as the top street/road racer in the circuit, it is nice to see that (perhaps) someone is reading this blog.

Because, today, the IZOD IndyCar Series announced that they will do just that and honor the top points-winners on both street/road circuits and ovals.

According to the intrepid Curt Cavin at the Indianapolis Star:

The name on the trophy for ovals -- likely A.J. Foyt -- will be revealed during the June 3-5 event at Texas Motor Speedway. The road course honoree will be named during the July 3-4 event at Watkins Glen (N.Y.) International.

The A.J. Foyt and Mario Andretti trophies?  Those would be two historic, and fitting names for the series.

Sums It Up

The Boa Constrictor himself, E.J. Viso, pegged himself in a story on Indycar.com.  Viso, speaking to Dave Lewandowski, brought up a visit he made to his old school in San Pedro, Calif.

Viso, on his favorite type of surfing:

I’m not a surfer, but I know how to surf. I do kite surfing, and I think that’s more fun because you can do more tricks and go faster. Surfing, you have to be more patient and have to wait for the right wave to come. I’m not the most patient person.

Indeed, E.J. isn't known for his patience in an Indycar, either.  But the man who brought the fear of God into Jack Arute's eyes last year with his pet boa constrictor is seemingly made for the exciting world of oval Indycar racing, due in part to this lack of patience.

In other words, Kansas cannot come soon enough.