Only Danica can punch up Indy race
INDIANAPOLIS | They’re too stupid to let her win the only race that matters. And now we know they’re too stupid to let her fight.
In a valiant, last-ditch effort to breathe life into the 92nd running of the Indianapolis 500, Danica Patrick dropped her gloves and marched angrily down pit road on a collision course toward Ryan Briscoe.
This was drama, something that was in short supply Sunday at Indianapolis Motor Speedway.
Scott Dixon’s dominant, yellow-flag-slowed victory generated the kind of buzz and excitement usually reserved for second-place finishers in a regional bowling tournament. So far, IndyCar unity is overrated.
Sunday’s race needed a blast of hostility, and Danica Patrick wanted to provide it.
She picked the right target. Ryan Briscoe deserved a good smack. With 29 laps to go and the leaders exiting the pits, he jumped lanes and clipped the only IndyCar driver who matters as she accelerated to re-enter the race and close out a potential top-five finish.
“It was pretty obvious what happened,” Patrick fumed. “You just don’t come out of your pit box and swing three lanes out. That’s why there is a get-up-to-speed lane. I was at speed.”
With helmet on and gloves off, she stomped toward Briscoe’s car at proper speed, too. Unfortunately, Charles Burns, head of security for the IRL, made the same mistake as Briscoe, cutting Patrick off and redirecting her before she could make the Indy 500 America’s No. 1 news story.
Stupid!
Who was she going to hurt? And how was Ryan Briscoe going to hurt her? Nothing was going to happen, other than a highlight moment that would drive discussion and interest in open-wheel racing for a couple of weeks.
IndyCar says it wants to challenge NASCAR, but the open-wheel elitists come off as too proper to do the necessary dirty work.
Danica Patrick has the right attitude. She’s willing to do whatever it takes to make her sport relevant again. She’ll take off her clothes, take off her gloves, dare the boys to fight and charge at anyone who gets in her way.
“As you all know, I’m really emotional,” Patrick said standing outside her garage, explaining whether she planned to take a swing at Briscoe.
IndyCar needs to be really flexible. Unification isn’t enough. Helio Castroneves’ triumph on “Dancing With The Stars” wasn’t enough. Open-wheel racing is still anchored by a bunch of no-name drivers and leadership wedded to rules that stand in the way of common sense.
In the hours before Sunday’s race, veteran racing writer Robin Miller described to me why Sunday’s race would be marred by accidents.
An inexperienced field got too little practice time throughout the month because of rain, and the IRL didn’t adjust by opening practice sessions on Mondays and Tuesdays. Rain canceled all but 11 minutes of Friday’s prerace Carburetion Day, and Miller argued that the track should have been opened for an hour or two of practice on Saturday.
A full third (69 laps) of Sunday’s race was run under yellow because of eight caution flags. The race had no flow and even less genuine passing.
“Nobody was doing a lot of passing out there,” Patrick said. “It was just track position.”
Dixon, the pole sitter, led 115 laps. Dixon is not a star. He didn’t evoke memories of Rick Mears’ or Al Unser’s or Johnny Rutherford’s dominant performances.
When Dixon crossed the finish line, securing his first Indy 500 win, I stood fewer than 100 yards from the start/finish line. I was waiting for Danica to emerge from beneath the Andretti Green tent along pit row. There was muted, polite applause for Dixon’s victory. The “Iceman’s” fan base is small, and respect for his driving skill is solid but far from awe-inspiring.
When Danica resurfaced and began the trek to her garage, the crowd buzzed, the “we love yous” rang out. She’s always the story. It’s a mistake to rein her in. She’s the closest thing the sport has to A.J. Foyt, who was a bigger, chubbier, uglier version of Patrick 35 years ago.
A.J. Foyt would have popped Ryan Briscoe, and no one would have tried to stop him. He made the Indy 500 the greatest spectacle in racing by being a constant spectacle. He was volatile and occasionally nasty. He wore the black hat and made everyone love him for doing it.
Even though IndyCar has lost its luster, Foyt still finished atop a recent ESPN.com poll as the greatest race-car driver of all time — more popular than Dale Earnhardt and Richard Petty and all the other NASCAR legends.
So just let Danica be Danica. Let her fuss, fume and fight. It’s good for the game.
To reach Jason Whitlock, call 816-234-4869 or send e-mail to jwhitlock@kcstar.com. For previous columns, go to KansasCity.com.
