By Troy Harrison
Yesterday, the sport of Indy Car racing lost one of its most accomplished and popular drivers; a driver who, despite being mostly rideless for the 2011 season, managed to score an Indy 500 win and a ride for next year with Andretti Racing. I’m talking, of course, about Dan Wheldon. I didn’t know Dan; I knew most of the first-generation IRL drivers, but haven’t met many through the last several years. I do know people who knew him, and to a person he was well liked. Not that it matters; Wheldon’s death would have been a monumental tragedy if he’d have been the biggest jerk to ever latch up a six-point harness (which, again, he was definitely not).
In the coming days, there will be articles criticizing Indy Car; there will be declarations that Wheldon’s death “could have been prevented,” and there will be calls for Indy cars to quit racing on ovals. The truth, as always, lies somewhere in between. It’s not for me to say if Dan’s death could have been prevented. I will, however, say that there have been many decisions by those in charge of the sport that placed Wheldon in position for the injuries he suffered.
For many years, those who administrated the sport of Indy car racing centered the sport on ovals of various configuration and length, and respected oval racing as something unique and difficult. Hence, for a driver to be “qualified,” he must have competed on, and achieved success on, the shorter ovals that made up the USAC Sprint and Midget circuits. Even as other series, such as Super Vees, Atlantics, etc. became accepted as Indy car training grounds, those in charge were unafraid to send aspiring drivers back for more experience if they hadn’t yet battled at (relatively) high speeds while turning left.
Over the last few decades, that has changed. “An oval is just a simplified road course,” went the mantra of those who argued for a stronger road racing presence in the sport, and thus it became written. The notion that there were specific “oval racing skills” that included the ability to race in tight traffic, handle your car and hold a line, etc. were laughed off. Licensing standards became lax at best; with the advent of the Indy Racing League, the situation became worse. I honestly can’t remember the last time that a driver was refused for a license to compete in Indy cars (although there have been a couple of instances of drivers at Indy itself being asked to step out of their cars after particularly frightening practices). That’s not a good thing, when you expect the drivers to be able to run side by side at 220 MPH.
At the same time, many different forces – economic and equipment-based – made it so that the driver’s ability to fund the car became much more important than the ability to control the cars. Again, something that has a moderate penalty on a road or street course, but a potentially huge penalty on a high banked oval at 220MPH. Indy car fields – particularly beyond the top 6-8 drivers – have gone from being a “Who’s who” to a “who’s that” of American racing. Indy car officials could have changed that course, by controlling the costs, making different aero rules, and even enforcing some meaningful licensing standards. They failed to do so.
We can’t discuss the tragedy without discussing the current – and horribly flawed – IRL car. This car has demonstrated a propensity to fly when the angle of aero attack changes, more than any other car in professional racing history. Mario Andretti was the first to experience this at Indy 2003 – NINE YEARS AGO – and since then, Indy cars have quite literally been piloted by Sam Hornish, Kenny Brack, Ryan Briscoe, and others whose names escape me at the moment. For those who point to other cars such as Sprint cars, there is a big difference between “flipping” and “flying.” A “flip” is when a car is turned upside down or briefly into the air by a mechanical force such as impact or jumping tires. “Flying” is when a car, propelled upwards, then continues to soar upwards through aero impulses. The current – and thankfully now retired – IRL car has been a flyer for its nine-year design cycle. Although marginal improvements have been made, the car still clearly had that problem on Sunday.
The cars, too, by the virtue of being spec cars, were doomed to pack racing, side by side at 220 MPH, no lifting allowed for the drivers. Running in tight packs, lap after lap, at high speeds, is a very dangerous proposition. Some drivers were capable of this. Some – too many in this writer’s opinion – had no business being out there in such a situation.
All of these issues are mere table-setters for what happened at Vegas. Officials still weren’t done. For the last race with the current cars, they wanted a big deal – which required a big field. Hence, a virtual “push, pull, or drag” sale of IRL owners who happened to have a car and could get together a driver and crew. The entry of 34 was a record for Indy Car fields outside of Indy itself. Disregarding its own rulebook (which called for a 28-car field on a 1.5 mile track), officials said, “Start ‘em all!”
Then, failing to entice a NASCAR driver with a $5 million bonus for any “outsider” who could win the race, Indy Car officials offered that bonus to Dan Wheldon. As the Indy car winner, if he would agree to start tailback, and could win the race, he’d get the $5 million (half of which would go to one lucky fan). Ironically, Wheldon qualified 29th; if the field had been limited to 28, he might not have even been out there. Wheldon, always one to have a go at a challenge, accepted. Now we have the Indy winner starting behind 33 other drivers, at least 15 of which had absolutely no business running in a tight pack at 220MPH.
We know the rest. From the start, midpack drivers were making moves that would be considered foolish even in a 25-lapper at Lakeside; at those speeds and tightness of the pack, they were somewhere in the neighborhood of suicidal. That’s that lack of “oval racing skills” that I referred to earlier. It only took 12 laps for it to catch up to them. A crash started in midpack when two cars that were zigzagging and both zigged when one should have zagged. In the ensuing mayhem, Wheldon –charging up through the pack from his starting spot - ran over the rear of another car, sending his car into the air – where it soared from the bottom of the track up to the catch fence, where Dan hit helmet first. It’s likely that he was gone before his car stopped.
What no one has touched on – at least that I have seen – is that, despite losing Wheldon, it could have been much worse. Will Power and Pippa Mann turned aerobatic as well; only the angle of impact saved Power from a similar fate as Wheldon. Mann’s car came down on all four wheels.
There will be tributes to Wheldon all over the place. They’re well deserved. If you want to read one, you really should read one from someone who knew him well; as I said, I’m not that guy. Instead, I’d rather talk about where the sport should go from here. Indy Car is at a crossroads right now. Fan interest has never been lower, and is likely to get worse from here. Among other aspects of Wheldon’s loss, the sport has lost an incredibly popular driver who could have been the face of the sport for years to come.
It seems to me that, to survive and perhaps thrive in the future, Indy car racing must do several things:
1. Get rid of Brian Barnhart. This one is long overdue. Barnhart’s incompetence at administrating Indy Car’s on-track product nears legendary status; even this year, he has turned too many races into circus acts. Barnhart had a big hand in some of the specific decisions that caused Vegas to be a tragedy and he needs to own that. Under his watch, some of the least qualified drivers to ever steer an Indy car have become licensed competitors. His rulings have been arbitrary, inconsistent, and much of the time incomprehensible.
2. Get a new CEO. Randy Bernard is part of the problem, as well; Bernard’s “I want a big event” influence was part of the cause of the size and makeup of the field. Bernard came from Professional Bull Riding; my suggestion would be to move him into a marketing role and hire a real racing person to oversee the whole thing. Indy Car racing has not had a genuine racing person at its head since Johnny Capels retired in 1994. It was the selection of Andrew Craig over Cary Agajanian as CART CEO that was the final shot that touched off the IRL/CART war. The sport needs a CEO who truly understands the sport, its costs, and its dangers. That means a former driver or owner. No, I don’t have anyone in mind at the moment, but I am confident that the candidates would come forth if the job were available.
3. Meaningful licensing for drivers. It’s time to say “enough” to lightly qualified drivers with a check. If the owners won’t police this themselves, it’s time for the series to take hold of the process and turn down drivers who have no business being there. There are drivers competing in Indy Car that have never won a race of any kind, anywhere. That’s just ridiculous, and hurts the credibility of the sport as well as the safety.
4. Less aero-dependent cars. This one, unfortunately, is a dead player. The new Indy Car appears to be more aero-dependent than anything that came before it; with higher aero dependency comes a higher aero sensitivity when things go wrong – and the propensity for flying. Changing that mix would help the racing, too; a car that was less ‘nailed to the ground’ would require drivers to lift in turns even at a place like Las Vegas. When drivers lift, the pack racing aspect goes away, and the drivers spread out.
There will be some who say that I’m “second guessing” what happened. Nonsense. I – along with many other observers of the sport – have been saying these same things for years. I’d hoped that some things might be addressed when Paul Dana (a lightly qualified driver who died in a horrific crash of his own making) died at Homestead in 2006. That didn’t happen, unfortunately.
I wonder, too, what the relationship between Indy Car and Speedway Motorsports, Inc. must be now. That relationship was mostly dead after the 1999 Charlotte tragedy, in which three fans died. In the last couple of years, it appeared to be gaining ground with new races at New Hampshire and Vegas. New Hampshire has chosen not to renew for 2012 (announced before the race Sunday), and now you have to wonder if Vegas will be back. The Las Vegas fans – what there were of them – were incredibly classy by applauding the five-lap tribute. Still, those who paid went home seeing 12 laps and a tragedy instead of the race they paid to see. It remains to be seen what the business repercussions will be.
The sport of Indy Car racing badly needs a rethink. It has needed one for several years. Dan Wheldon was not the first to die in an Indy car, and unfortunately it’s unlikely that he will be the last. Let’s hope, however, that going forward, Indy Racing officials take better care of the drivers under their control than they have done in the last decade or so.
Yesterday, the sport of Indy Car racing lost one of its most accomplished and popular drivers; a driver who, despite being mostly rideless for the 2011 season, managed to score an Indy 500 win and a ride for next year with Andretti Racing. I’m talking, of course, about Dan Wheldon. I didn’t know Dan; I knew most of the first-generation IRL drivers, but haven’t met many through the last several years. I do know people who knew him, and to a person he was well liked. Not that it matters; Wheldon’s death would have been a monumental tragedy if he’d have been the biggest jerk to ever latch up a six-point harness (which, again, he was definitely not).
In the coming days, there will be articles criticizing Indy Car; there will be declarations that Wheldon’s death “could have been prevented,” and there will be calls for Indy cars to quit racing on ovals. The truth, as always, lies somewhere in between. It’s not for me to say if Dan’s death could have been prevented. I will, however, say that there have been many decisions by those in charge of the sport that placed Wheldon in position for the injuries he suffered.
For many years, those who administrated the sport of Indy car racing centered the sport on ovals of various configuration and length, and respected oval racing as something unique and difficult. Hence, for a driver to be “qualified,” he must have competed on, and achieved success on, the shorter ovals that made up the USAC Sprint and Midget circuits. Even as other series, such as Super Vees, Atlantics, etc. became accepted as Indy car training grounds, those in charge were unafraid to send aspiring drivers back for more experience if they hadn’t yet battled at (relatively) high speeds while turning left.
Over the last few decades, that has changed. “An oval is just a simplified road course,” went the mantra of those who argued for a stronger road racing presence in the sport, and thus it became written. The notion that there were specific “oval racing skills” that included the ability to race in tight traffic, handle your car and hold a line, etc. were laughed off. Licensing standards became lax at best; with the advent of the Indy Racing League, the situation became worse. I honestly can’t remember the last time that a driver was refused for a license to compete in Indy cars (although there have been a couple of instances of drivers at Indy itself being asked to step out of their cars after particularly frightening practices). That’s not a good thing, when you expect the drivers to be able to run side by side at 220 MPH.
At the same time, many different forces – economic and equipment-based – made it so that the driver’s ability to fund the car became much more important than the ability to control the cars. Again, something that has a moderate penalty on a road or street course, but a potentially huge penalty on a high banked oval at 220MPH. Indy car fields – particularly beyond the top 6-8 drivers – have gone from being a “Who’s who” to a “who’s that” of American racing. Indy car officials could have changed that course, by controlling the costs, making different aero rules, and even enforcing some meaningful licensing standards. They failed to do so.
We can’t discuss the tragedy without discussing the current – and horribly flawed – IRL car. This car has demonstrated a propensity to fly when the angle of aero attack changes, more than any other car in professional racing history. Mario Andretti was the first to experience this at Indy 2003 – NINE YEARS AGO – and since then, Indy cars have quite literally been piloted by Sam Hornish, Kenny Brack, Ryan Briscoe, and others whose names escape me at the moment. For those who point to other cars such as Sprint cars, there is a big difference between “flipping” and “flying.” A “flip” is when a car is turned upside down or briefly into the air by a mechanical force such as impact or jumping tires. “Flying” is when a car, propelled upwards, then continues to soar upwards through aero impulses. The current – and thankfully now retired – IRL car has been a flyer for its nine-year design cycle. Although marginal improvements have been made, the car still clearly had that problem on Sunday.
The cars, too, by the virtue of being spec cars, were doomed to pack racing, side by side at 220 MPH, no lifting allowed for the drivers. Running in tight packs, lap after lap, at high speeds, is a very dangerous proposition. Some drivers were capable of this. Some – too many in this writer’s opinion – had no business being out there in such a situation.
All of these issues are mere table-setters for what happened at Vegas. Officials still weren’t done. For the last race with the current cars, they wanted a big deal – which required a big field. Hence, a virtual “push, pull, or drag” sale of IRL owners who happened to have a car and could get together a driver and crew. The entry of 34 was a record for Indy Car fields outside of Indy itself. Disregarding its own rulebook (which called for a 28-car field on a 1.5 mile track), officials said, “Start ‘em all!”
Then, failing to entice a NASCAR driver with a $5 million bonus for any “outsider” who could win the race, Indy Car officials offered that bonus to Dan Wheldon. As the Indy car winner, if he would agree to start tailback, and could win the race, he’d get the $5 million (half of which would go to one lucky fan). Ironically, Wheldon qualified 29th; if the field had been limited to 28, he might not have even been out there. Wheldon, always one to have a go at a challenge, accepted. Now we have the Indy winner starting behind 33 other drivers, at least 15 of which had absolutely no business running in a tight pack at 220MPH.
We know the rest. From the start, midpack drivers were making moves that would be considered foolish even in a 25-lapper at Lakeside; at those speeds and tightness of the pack, they were somewhere in the neighborhood of suicidal. That’s that lack of “oval racing skills” that I referred to earlier. It only took 12 laps for it to catch up to them. A crash started in midpack when two cars that were zigzagging and both zigged when one should have zagged. In the ensuing mayhem, Wheldon –charging up through the pack from his starting spot - ran over the rear of another car, sending his car into the air – where it soared from the bottom of the track up to the catch fence, where Dan hit helmet first. It’s likely that he was gone before his car stopped.
What no one has touched on – at least that I have seen – is that, despite losing Wheldon, it could have been much worse. Will Power and Pippa Mann turned aerobatic as well; only the angle of impact saved Power from a similar fate as Wheldon. Mann’s car came down on all four wheels.
There will be tributes to Wheldon all over the place. They’re well deserved. If you want to read one, you really should read one from someone who knew him well; as I said, I’m not that guy. Instead, I’d rather talk about where the sport should go from here. Indy Car is at a crossroads right now. Fan interest has never been lower, and is likely to get worse from here. Among other aspects of Wheldon’s loss, the sport has lost an incredibly popular driver who could have been the face of the sport for years to come.
It seems to me that, to survive and perhaps thrive in the future, Indy car racing must do several things:
1. Get rid of Brian Barnhart. This one is long overdue. Barnhart’s incompetence at administrating Indy Car’s on-track product nears legendary status; even this year, he has turned too many races into circus acts. Barnhart had a big hand in some of the specific decisions that caused Vegas to be a tragedy and he needs to own that. Under his watch, some of the least qualified drivers to ever steer an Indy car have become licensed competitors. His rulings have been arbitrary, inconsistent, and much of the time incomprehensible.
2. Get a new CEO. Randy Bernard is part of the problem, as well; Bernard’s “I want a big event” influence was part of the cause of the size and makeup of the field. Bernard came from Professional Bull Riding; my suggestion would be to move him into a marketing role and hire a real racing person to oversee the whole thing. Indy Car racing has not had a genuine racing person at its head since Johnny Capels retired in 1994. It was the selection of Andrew Craig over Cary Agajanian as CART CEO that was the final shot that touched off the IRL/CART war. The sport needs a CEO who truly understands the sport, its costs, and its dangers. That means a former driver or owner. No, I don’t have anyone in mind at the moment, but I am confident that the candidates would come forth if the job were available.
3. Meaningful licensing for drivers. It’s time to say “enough” to lightly qualified drivers with a check. If the owners won’t police this themselves, it’s time for the series to take hold of the process and turn down drivers who have no business being there. There are drivers competing in Indy Car that have never won a race of any kind, anywhere. That’s just ridiculous, and hurts the credibility of the sport as well as the safety.
4. Less aero-dependent cars. This one, unfortunately, is a dead player. The new Indy Car appears to be more aero-dependent than anything that came before it; with higher aero dependency comes a higher aero sensitivity when things go wrong – and the propensity for flying. Changing that mix would help the racing, too; a car that was less ‘nailed to the ground’ would require drivers to lift in turns even at a place like Las Vegas. When drivers lift, the pack racing aspect goes away, and the drivers spread out.
There will be some who say that I’m “second guessing” what happened. Nonsense. I – along with many other observers of the sport – have been saying these same things for years. I’d hoped that some things might be addressed when Paul Dana (a lightly qualified driver who died in a horrific crash of his own making) died at Homestead in 2006. That didn’t happen, unfortunately.
I wonder, too, what the relationship between Indy Car and Speedway Motorsports, Inc. must be now. That relationship was mostly dead after the 1999 Charlotte tragedy, in which three fans died. In the last couple of years, it appeared to be gaining ground with new races at New Hampshire and Vegas. New Hampshire has chosen not to renew for 2012 (announced before the race Sunday), and now you have to wonder if Vegas will be back. The Las Vegas fans – what there were of them – were incredibly classy by applauding the five-lap tribute. Still, those who paid went home seeing 12 laps and a tragedy instead of the race they paid to see. It remains to be seen what the business repercussions will be.
The sport of Indy Car racing badly needs a rethink. It has needed one for several years. Dan Wheldon was not the first to die in an Indy car, and unfortunately it’s unlikely that he will be the last. Let’s hope, however, that going forward, Indy Racing officials take better care of the drivers under their control than they have done in the last decade or so.
