Feeling Lucky?

by Tammy

Luck plays an awfully big role in racing. Sure, you've got to have good equipment, a good team, and talent behind the wheel. None of that can be overstated. They're a given. But all of your preparation and talent can be doomed by being in the wrong place at the wrong time or the cards falling just wrong for you.

Take Jeff Gordon on Saturday night at Richmond. Seven laps to go, he's in the Chase—then Bowyer spins, everyone pits, the order is reshuffled, they restart ... and with three laps to go, Gordon's out of the Chase. Damn unlucky. (Though more than one fan and/or pundit contends Bowyer spun on purpose to help his teammate get into the Chase, which was the ultimate result.)

Think of sportscar races where the yellow flies and you might or might not gain or lose a lap depending on where the overall leader is and where the safety car comes out. Pure luck.

It comes down to gambling. Teams and drivers can be amazingly talented and prepared, but it's still a gamble to see if you'll make it through unaffected by the bad decisions, poor talent, or unpreparedness of others. (For that matter, every drive in our street cars is a gamble that we won't be wrecked by the others on the road.)

So here's my question: Looking at NASCAR, which tracks do you think require the most luck? The super-speedways where the pack is nose-to-tail most of the time? Or the short tracks, where they're in constant traffic?

I'm voting the short tracks, after watching Bristol (pictured) the other week. At least at the super-speedways, there's some space to try to avoid a wreck. At Bristol, and even Richmond (not that there were any big wrecks the other night), there's just nowhere to go.

One other note: I'm no gambler, and that's part of why I don't race. But I'm sure fascinated by what motivates those who do. You people are fascinating and more than a little bit crazy!

Photo from www.bristolmotorspeedway.com.

Keeping It Under Control

By Simon

It was a weird racing weekend over Labor Day.  IndyCar did its impression of a demolition derby where over a quarter of the race was conducted under a full course yellow.  But the big thing (for me) that happened over the weekend is what happened to Max Papis in the NASCAR Truck Series held at the Canadian Tire Motorsports Park.  It was somewhat of a fraught race with several drivers wiping each other out on the last lap.  Included in those crashes was Max Papis, he and Mike Skeen were fighting for third and managed to end up in the wall on the last corner. As he was climbing from the car in the pits, someone went for him and in the paddock, a woman slapped him.  No report on who the woman was—whether she was connected to Skeen’s team or just a fan.  Regardless, that was totally unacceptable.  I know drivers, teams and fans are passionate about their racing, but the second you raise your hand to someone, you’re done as far as I’m concerned.

The lady was quite lucky in more ways than one.  She wasn’t charged for the assault and Papis laughed the slap off.  Not sure I would have in his position. And he might not have been so forgiving if she’d caught him minutes earlier or another driver.  The race ended with several drivers steamed at each other over the race’s outcome.  With so many emotions running high, she was lucky Papis didn’t hit her back, which would have created an entirely different set of problems.

I know it’s easy to sit here and say this when I wasn’t involved, but it doesn’t matter.  People have a responsibility to keep their cool in these situations.  If Papis was guilty of any wrongdoing, there are mechanisms to reprimand him which will him more harm than any spectator’s opinion.  Teams have a responsibility to keep their crews under control.  They’re supposed to be professionals.  Spectators are there to watch, cheer and boo—and their job ends there.  They pay good money to see a race, but it doesn’t give them the right to take matters into their hands.  So everyone, get a grip!

Here endeth the lesson.  Now, let’s get back to the racing.

Patrick Dempsey and Le Mans

by Tammy

Did you all watch the first (of four) parts of "Patrick Dempsey: Racing Le Mans" last Wednesday? (For info and schedule, see the Velocity website.)

I loved it, for two reasons.

One, it doesn't sugar-coat who dreadfully expensive and how much stupid hard work racing is—and if that sounds odd coming from someone as race-obsessed as me, know that I love the sport in part because it's such an absurd thing to do ... I love the stories generated by that level of commitment and insanity.

Two, the show (so far) is a who's-who of my experiences in the ALMS over the last nine years. Starting with Patrick Long (fooled you, didn't I?), who drove for my team back in 2004, and who I've rooted for ever since. Check him out here in a co-starring role....



I'm also quite sure future parts of the series will include my good friend Pattie Mayer, pace car driver and all-around inspiration, who I believe was with the Dempsey Del Piero team at Le Mans this year.

Do I think the show is perfect? No. I do agree when Dempsey talks about it being very difficult to secure and maintain sponsors for a racing team ... but let's be honest: it's a hell of a lot easier for Patrick Dempsey to secure sponsors for the racing team he's the face of than it is for hundreds of racers who no one outside a small portion of the racing world has heard of. Then again, maybe that's his point: if it's hard for him, imagine how hard it is for others (though that sounds more egocentric than something he'd say).

Oops, here's a third reason I loved the show: Dempsey is excited to get more people interested in sportscar racing. Now, that's a purpose I can get behind! Watch the show, people!

The Wrong Road

By Simon

I’ve been disappointed by grid sizes over the last couple of seasons, especially in the smaller championships, such as Indy Lights, touring cars, Formula Ford and Formula Three. Some of these championships are barely scraping together 20 car grinds, while others are struggling to get into double figures. All very worrying.

Yes, the economy is bad and motorsport is one of those sports that thrive when sponsors are doing well, however, I see a problem within the sport that is doing more harm than good in the guise foreign races within national championships. IndyCar and German Touring Cars started incorporating races abroad around 20 years ago. It made sense. IndyCar wanted to lose its provincial status in comparison to F1 and German Touring Cars was a big draw and helped fill a hole left by the demise of the Euro touring championship. But this concept has swelled to various national F3 championships and the alike. Even a breeder championship as the British Formula Ford championship has a bunch of its races in Europe. While this is cool, it’s financially crazy. Not only will the cost force drivers out of the competition, it’s makes for embarrassing racing. It looked just sad just to see a dozen cars banging around the Nurburgring.

I hate to sound mean but these championships are being over ambitious. Not only does small grides make for dull viewing, the lack of driver competition doesn’t hone great drivers. They need to stick to their roots and do what they’ve always done, which is to provide great proving grounds for up and coming drivers. If the bad economy continues and these over-expanded series persist, I can see a lot of worthwhile championships folding. And that would be a real shame.

The Controversial Call

by Tammy

I had another blog topic picked out and ready this weekend ... but then I watched the IndyCar race at Sonoma. The bump-fest, new-nose-festival, yellow-flag party that was the Go Pro Grand Prix.

And then there was THE CALL.

The two leading drivers, Will Power and Scott Dixon, were pitted one after another. Dixon, in the rear, pulled out first as a crew member crossed between the two cars carrying a tire. The tire in the crew member's hand and Dixon's side pod and left rear tire made contact. The tire spun out of the guy's hand and he went flying into another crew member, who also fell over and dropped the air gun in his hand, which flew over and banged into a third crew member's leg. They're all fine.

The question was, who gets a penalty. Did the crew member deserve some fault for not paying enough attention or for making himself as wide an obstacle as possible? Or did Dixon bear all of the blame because the rules say you get a penalty for hitting another team's equipment? (Here's Jalopnik's funny take on the incident, with a video.)

Cue the wailing and gnashing of Twitter teeth. And the wringing of hands by the television commentators.

In the end, Beaux Barfield up in Race Control penalized Dixon for hitting the other team's equipment. He was (to his credit) available immediately after the race to the media for an explanation, saying that the overhead camera showed Dixon to be in Power's space.

Cue more wailing and gnashing of teeth, because the only lines laid down in the pit lane are for the NASCAR race, and there aren't painted lines for the IndyCar pits. Plenty of calls for crappy officiating, etc.

My opinion is that there are hard decisions to make, ones that not everyone will agree with, and sometimes ones that don't have a right/wrong answer. And one guy has to make them. That's Beaux. He owns them and is willing to explain them. And he knows more than I do about how the pits and the cars and the rule books work. So I'm going with his call.

Also, I live in California where a pedestrian always has the right of way—ALWAYS. Even when they dart out in the middle of the block. The pedestrian is always right and the car driver is always wrong. So I get that even if the crew member was deliberately being an obstacle (which I don't think was the case, I think he just wasn't being as thoughtful as he could have been), the driver who hit him gets the penalty.

But plenty of other people disagree. What do you think? Did you see it? Do you have an opinion?

Ten Years With A Friend

By Simon

I’m celebrating an anniversary this week.  My Hyundai Tiburon and I have been together ten years.  Yes, thank you.  Yes, it’s quite a milestone.  We are very happy together.

 

This is the longest I’ve owned a car, so that’s a great testament to the Tiburon. 

When I was looking for a car (ten years ago), it was because I didn’t actually own one.  Julie had a car for work and I biked everywhere.  After being knocked down for the 3^rd time in eighteen months commuting to work, I said bollocks to the environment, I’m buying a car.  I test drove a bunch of cars, but the Tiburon stood out for me.  It was a good looking car (even if the styling cribbed from Ferrari), it had a nice torquy V6 and it was a coupe and not a hot hatch.  The biggest selling point for me was that it was a driver’s car.  In that it was a car that didn’t have ABS, traction control, fancy computers adjusting its every move or any clever suspension and came with a tape deck. Now admittedly, this is because the Tiburon was a budget sports car and not part of any great back to basics campaign.  Nevertheless, I liked having a car which relied on me and not technology.

I have to say the Tib has impressed me over the years.  It’s been reliable, having never broke down.  The mechanical failures have been the air conditioning hose and the power window motors.  The only major overhaul has been a clutch replacement last month. The car is remarkably well mannered.  I once had the car sideways on I-80 at 80mph (don’t ask why) and I expected it to end up in median, but it was immensely controllable and predictable.  My only improvements I would have asked Hyundai for would have been an extra 50bhp, power to the back wheels and some weight reduction.  Then they would have had very exciting car.

Now I’ve reached the ten year marker, I know that my days with my faithful friend are numbered.  I can feel the age in the car.  I hear creaks that didn’t used to be there.  I know that as we add more miles there's the likelihood that the Tib will let me down and tarnish our good relationship.  I know that in the next year or so, my buddy and I will have to part ways.  It’ll be a sad day, but one filled with good memories.

Thanks for all the good miles, matey.

Fan Civility

by Tammy

A confession: I haven't been watching much racing the last couple months. I follow it, and I know what's happening, but I haven't been sitting in front of the television for hours every weekend watching each lap turned.

But while I'm writing, I've got live timing and scoring rolling on my screen. But more enlightening that even the live feed from the track is following races on Twitter (or TweetDeck, in my case).

Social media has affected every aspect of our lives, right? So maybe it's not so strange to say that in the last decade it's completely changed how we watch races—how we experience them, whether we're at the track or not. But it's still kind of amazing. I was following the NASCAR race on Sunday and within two minutes of Kyle Busch's brush with the wall, there was a video snippet posted that I could watch of the incident. And plenty of commentary.

Now, the news and facts are useful, and by that, I'm referring to the updates posted by the racing journalists I follow. For the most part, I'm also highly entertained by the random fan comments: the endless Junior or Danica supporting or bashing, and the snarky comments about any bump, rub, or crash.

What amazes me, however, is the depth of emotion. I mean, I dislike Kyle Busch intensely and like Tony Stewart a lot. But am I going to get personally offensive to someone who disagrees with me? Not likely. But plenty of you people out there do—and it's not just on Twitter. Read any online article and check out the comments, you'll see what I mean.

What started me thinking about this today was someone on Twitter slamming Nicole Briscoe (who's co-hosted motorsport-report shows for some years and is married to a top pro driver) for expressing an opinion that contradicted something an actual racecar driver thought, complete with disparaging remarks about "pageant queens" (she was one) and calling her "IGNORANT" (caps theirs). Seriously? Where'd the civility go?

I get that we all have a microphone now, and I do enjoy the conversation that is social media ... I've gotten to meet (virtually and in person) a lot of great people because of those conversations. But I suppose there's also the looming possibility that someone's going to call me ignorant or an asshole because I'm expressing an opinion that's different than theirs.

All I can say is, like and hate who you choose in the racing world. I won't judge you, if you don't judge me.