Ten Years Gone: Reflecting On A Decade Of Reconstruction

One score and 3 years ago, Tony George brought forth, in this sport, a new Championship Series, conceived in the spirit of competition, and dedicated to the proposition that oval racing remain the cornerstone of American open wheel motorsport.

Yes. I just paraphrased The Gettysburg Address. But as we're all aware, the split in American open wheel racing in 1996 brought about a Civil War of sorts within a sport at arguably its peak in popularity and profitability. It forced a rift between teams, drivers, fans, sponsors, and anyone in between.

The story has been told time and again from every angle, and with the IndyCar Series approaching its 10 year anniversary of reunification, I thought it would be interesting to explore a perspective seldom considered: That of media within the sport.

To do this, I reached out to former ESPN writer and IndyCar pundit John Oreovicz and he was kind enough to write back for a discussion on The Split, what it was like to cover, and his thoughts on the state of the sport today.

“Until I got involved as a writer in 93 I was a hardcore fan. Robin and Gordon Kirby were my main media sources,” he told me via DM on Twitter.

My first question was about initial rumblings of a possible split. “I suppose it was thru Robin’s coverage of (Tony George)’s trip to the late 1991 CART board meeting.” He said. “When he announced the start of the IRL in March 1994 it was shock and disbelief. CART was (in retrospect) at its peak in 1993 during the Mansell championship year. Why would TG (screw) up an easy cash cow for IMS?

Worldwide interest in the Indy 500 was never greater. They had to expand the media center to accommodate all the international media Mansell brought and IMS was resentful because it didn’t fit their dream American dirt car storyline.”

Our discussion then moved over to email the next day, where Oreovicz elaborated on the story of the split's beginnings. “TG made a presentation to a CART board meeting in late 1991 in Houston in which he outlined his plan for IMS to again lead the sport. The CART owners blew him off and the legend goes that he made the decision on the plane back to Indy to start the IRL.” “...it was difficult to figure out whether he was bluffing. He was not. TG announced in July 1995 that the 75 percent of grid spots at all IRL races (including the Indy 500) would be reserved for IRL point leaders. That was the tipping point for CART. In the fall of 1995, CART began plans for the US 500 to be run at Michigan on the same day as the 1996 Indy 500.”

The split not only left an indelible mark on the competition side of the sport, but had a profound effect on media as I had suspected. “For most journalists, the split forced you to choose sides,” he said. “I covered Disney and Indy in 1996 for Autosport, but mostly concentrated on CART because it had 95 percent of the best teams, drivers and race venues,” adding that “Every step the IRL took toward reality made me sick to my stomach. People try to call me a "CART guy," but I never cared who was running the sport. I was drawn to CART not because I liked their management, but because I liked what the series developed into in the 1980s - sleek, technologically advanced cars, a great mix of American and international drivers, oval tracks and road racing venues. It was truly the best of all worlds, which is why in the first half of the 1990s it was a rival for NASCAR in the U.S. and Formula 1 internationally.”

He then stated, “I always attempted to cover what I wrote about fairly. It's impossible to tune out all bias, but I always try to give credit where it is due and assess blame in a fair way where appropriate. I hope that attitude is reflected in my coverage.”

Then, John lamented how The Split effected his personal life, “Ultimately, the biggest effect the split had on my coverage is my current state of unemployment...mismanagement allowed NASCAR to become the dominant (indeed, synonymous) form of racing in America and prevented Indy car racing from achieving the potential it started to demonstrate in the '80s and '90s before the formation of the IRL. It had a direct negative impact on people like me trying to derive a living from a sport that they love.”

As Sunday dinner passed, he ended our conversation with this, “The state of the sport is relatively stable, which is actually quite good in the current market conditions. IndyCar's attendance and TV ratings are growing slowly while F1 and NASCAR are in clear decline. The appointment of Mark Miles really seemed to settle things down on the political and marketing side, while Jay Frye has created the greatest level of trust and cooperation between the teams and the sanctioning body that I can remember. The biggest question mark is the next broadcast distribution contract.”

So what is the state of the sport today? While many agree it is healthier than during The Split, there's still a long way to go. With a diverse schedule, a (Slightly) growing fanbase, and hot young stars like Alexander Rossi and Josef Newgarden, time will tell if the pre-Split success of the sport will ever be obtained again. Many also agree that the 2019+ TV deal will have the biggest impact on future success, and being the first major American sport to go all-digital through a deal as rumored would be uncharted territory, for better or worse.

One thing I did notice in my talk with Mr. Oerovicz is his passion for racing, although subdued, is still very much alive. A historian with a wealth of knowledge, John showed me that even the most calloused still have a deep rooted love for the sport of IndyCar racing, and as long as that passion still flows, there's always a chance.

Thanks to John Oreovicz

What's The Big Deal About Windscreens?

One can argue that he inherent danger of motorsport plays a major role, if not the only role, in its appeal to the masses. The pulse pounding fear that chaos can break out at an instant resonates with many, but those of us who call ourselves fans aren’t so much in love with that thought when it becomes a reality. We want to see racers push themselves and their machines to their absolute limits, but we want to see them live to tell the tale.

Sometimes, things happen in racing that remind us just how dangerous the sport truly is, and sometimes we wonder if there were more steps that could have been taken than were in the name of prevention. Such has been the case with incidents involving debris striking drivers in open wheel cockpits, especially since the tragic accident that led to the passing of Justin Wilson at Pocono Raceway in 2015.

Since then, everybody has agreed that something needs to be done to try and prevent such a tragedy from happening again, but how?

It has become perhaps the most polarizing debate in open wheel racing over the past several years; should they close the cockpits, use a halo, a windscreen? Each series, each manufacturer, team, equipment company, and even fan have their own solutions, none of which can be agreed upon. Formula One has the halo, set to go into full time use this season, others have suggested closing cockpits entirely with a canopy, andthis past week, IndyCar announced plans for February 8th to test and possibly bring back a former friend in the windscreen, and the fan response has me puzzled to say the least.

The easiest way for millenials like me to judge reactions from fans is to use social media. Instead of unanimous support for a device that has not only been proven to deflect debris, but has been used many times over in the past, I witnessed comments complaining everything from it looking too much like a car from a video game to it being an overreach of safety. Comments on Facebook pages for IndyCar and others have quotes like, “One step forward, three back,” “(This) will turn it to little more than gokart racing,” “Next we will be wrapping drivers in bubble wrap, “Who expects safe? The danger is part of the appeal,” and much more.

While there is overwhelming support from fans for the windscreen in IndyCar, I do not understand even slightly the negative backlash.

I get it, you want to see danger. But there’s a line between overreach and common sense, a line between damaging the spirit of competition in the name of safety and something like this. And really, what effect would a windscreen even have on on-track competition? I don’t see any potential impact, other than another step to avert something terrible from happening again. You don’t even have to go back very far in history to find a time when windscreens in CART were the standard. Look at photos from any Indy 500 in the late 80s and you’ll find them. Where were the cries about overreach in safety back then?

The question I have to ask here is, would you rather see a simple attempt at solving a clear and present danger, or nothing done at all? Yes, there are debates over whether a windscreen could even have saved Wilson, and yes, thorough testing to reach the best possible outcome must be conducted, but semantics shouldn’t interfere with common sense.

When I was in the pro wrestling business, any time a bad guy was stuck in an armbar, the fans would scream “Break It!” One night, a wrestler I was working with screamed back in annoyance, “What would you do if I did?”

So while we’re all attracted to the danger of racing, while we’re all always on edge for that split second when hell could break loose, that moment where a windscreen could save a life, what would you do if it did?

Moving Ahead: Thoughts On 2017 & Beyond

       Man, oh man, what a year 2017 was, huh? It certainly was wild for most of the world, and mine was no exception. As 2018 is but a few weeks old, I can't help but still be in a reflective mood, as well as thinking about what the future holds.

2017 Was a pivotal year in my life. One year removed from the devastating loss of my Mother, I came into the year just hoping to survive, and survive I did. The year started as planned, beginning with my second semester attending Georgia Highlands College, working as assistant online editor on our school newspaper. We actually won the GCPA award for best college newspaper for a community college. Funny enough, my best friend Kenny's school, UGA, won the overall best award, something we were able to share mutual pride in.
But after a night of one too many Jack & Cokes and a fight with a close friend in mid-February (Limit yourself, kids), and the harsh reality of no longer being able to afford classes, I left GHC abruptly. Sure, I was ashamed, after all this wasn't the first time outside circumstances made me drop out of school, but I decided to make one hell of a comeback story out of it.

My miraculous comeback story begins as they all should; at 2AM under the influence at Waffle House. In an altered state, I overheard the night cook talking about how she was "hurting for help" on nightshift. So I slurred, "Hey, I'll put in an application." Fun fact: Waffle House doesn't have real job applications. Instead, you fill out the blanks on a small yellow card and hand it to the boss.
I had joked for a day or two about applying, but after a week went by, I forgot all about it and continued to press on in finding my way.

Ten days later, I was dropping a friend off at home from a night of "Netflix & Chill," as the kids say. I got a call at around 7AM. It was a local number, but still, it was a Sunday. Who would call me at 7AM on a Sunday? Turns out, it was the district manager for Waffle House calling to schedule an interview for later that day. I told him I didn't remember applying, but that I'd be in at 2 for my interview. Skipping NASCAR at Atlanta (A real loss, peeps), I went to my interview. It lasted all of 5 minutes before my new boss shook my hand and said "Welcome to the team." Yeah, more like welcome to Hell.

Training wasn't so bad, even though I couldn't stay awake to save my life. I had to hold back laughter during the cheesy training videos. If you can get your hands on one, they're a hoot and a half of bad acting. The job itself, though was a grease soaked nightmare. Waffle House has its own language, the "Pull, Drop, Mark" system, which really should have its own Rosetta Stone software. (as well as being forced to call buckets Bain Maries at all times, it's frustrating.) Between that and the ever-changing price system, it was impossible to keep up with customers, and I'm almost positive that I was the only worker not on drugs. "You ever smoke the reefer?," asked my trainer as if this were 1929. Not in years, and never would I with you, pal.

My time at WoHo lasted as long as The Chevy Chase Show, and in the meantime I decided to sign up for a media pass to IndyCar at Barber Motorsports Park. I had nothing to lose and everything to gain, after all. Eight days before the race, I was confirmed to have a pass. After scrambling to book a hotel room, I rushed to Birmingham. My name was etched in Sharpie, last on the list, but I made it.

There, I met three people who have really changed my life, one of whom is a prolific motorsports writer, one of whom works within IndyCar behind the scenes, one of whom is a fledgling reporter like myself. The trip reinforced the idea that not only could I do what I've always dreamed with my life, but that I'd belong there in doing it. It was three days in Heaven after six weeks in Hell, but life went back to normal soon after.

In May, I said goodbye to a friend who had a profound impact on me as he decided to pursue greener pastures out west, and I continued to plug away in my side-life of standup comedy, but nothing felt the same. Without people you strive to make proud, life isn't as much fun. So, I decided to move to Ohio with my brother and his wife.

Ohio allowed me to breathe and spread my wings a bit. I worked at a liquor store (which actually kept me from drinking so much) and genuinely loved life. I met my friend Paul, who has gone on to be one of my best and closest friends, and I was able to have another eye opening experience, this time freelancing as a journalist at Mid-Ohio's Honda 200.

In October, it was time to come back home. I've spent the last few months ramping up my podcast and bouncing between jobs. The plan for 2018 is to make a few IndyCar races before moving to Indianapolis to finish my degree. But I'm very proud of the things I accomplished in 2017, personally and professionally. A year may not be a very long time, but you can certainly do a lot with it if you know what you're doing.

Keep your eyes peeled like a fresh orange for more pieces this spring. I have some fun stuff planned!

"Hard work pays off, dreams come true. Bad times don't last, but bad guys do."
-Scott "Razor Ramon" Hall

Power Surge: Penske Takes Pocono

The final superspeedway race of the DW12 era may have cemented the car's legacy of putting on some tremendous oval racing. It was a thriller, boiling down to an intense finish and a winner that made one of the most impressive comebacks of the season to vault himself into the championship picture.

Coming into Sunday's ABC Supply 500 at Pocono, the main story was the razor thin points battle. Josef Newgarden had just a 7 point lead over teammate Helio Castroneves, with only 8 points separating him from Scott Dixon. Dixon was one of the favorites to win, as the Hondas have shown more speed than Chevy on the long ovals this season, and one was on the pole as Indy 500 Champ Takuma Sato took the P1 Award on Saturday.

So too a major story was the concern looming over crashes earlier in the weekend. 2012 Series Champion Ryan Hunter-Reay spent part of Saturday night in a hospital after a 138 G crash in qualifying. He was cleared to race but obviously reeling, speaking of pain in his hips before the race.

Free agent Tony Kanaan got off to an early lead, proving himself a factor yet again on ovals. He led the first 25 miles before being passed by Alexander Rossi.
Josef Newgarden was slicing through the pack like a hot knife through Velveeta when Esteban Gutierrez pancaked the wall on lap 22.

On the ensuing restart, Kanaan made a bonzai move around Rossi and Will Power for the lead. Scott Dixon and James Hinchcliffe emerged as factors as nobody could seem to gap another driver. This provided for excellent competition.

During the first green flag stops, Scott Dixon and crew began to empliment a risky strategy, pitting 2-3 laps before most of the other leaders. It seemed to pay off as he cycled out with the lead. Dixon would remain in or near the lead for most of the race.

A few laps later, at around the 1/3 mark, Will Power made an unscheduled stop to replace the front wing. It put him a lap down and looked to put him out of contention for the win.

As halfway approached, Ganassi's stronghold began to fade and the Andretti Autosport team began to shine. The injured Hunter-Reay took the lead on lap 100 with teammate Rossi in tow.

One of the most tense moments came on lap 102, with James Hinchcliffe, stuck in traffic after he overshot his stall on pit road 15 laps prior, slid high in turn one and was a breath away from disaster, correcting the car from turning sideways. Seconds later, Power made a save of his own. It just wasn't his day, or so many thought.

One lap into a restart on lap 124, disaster struck. James Hinchcliffe clipped JR Hildebrand and sent both blasting into the turn one wall. Both were okay, however. Hinch summed it up as "just a racing deal."
The safety of the DW12 just may be its legacy thanks to some of the crashes this weekend.

The ensuing restart would go on to be a captivating battle for the ages. Graham Rahal lurked around the top 5 for most of the day and finally got to the lead. Between lap 133 and 150, Rahal and TK traded the lead 16 times, breaking the Pocono 500 lead change record of 33 in the process.

A sequence of pit stops followed, and afterwards Will Power cycled out with a big lead, having 4 seconds over TK with 35 to go.

The final set of stops came with just over 20 to go, and the only team to make changes to the front wing was that of Will Power. Hoping to catch a caution for track position, Marco Andretti's team kept him on track. It did not pay off.

With 15 to go, Kanaan seemed as if he were on rails as he blistered through traffic to catch Power. But he suddenly dropped off in speed. The major players fizzled out and The Penske Games took on a whole new meaning.

Josef Newgarden had caught Power with 9 to go, working him over to make a pass to win his third race in a row. You couldn't fit a strip of bacon between the two cars as they snaked down the frontstretch.

Then, with 6 to go, Power lays down the law and shows why he's the defending race winner, breaking the draft and shutting down Josef's momentum before he even had a run coming out of turn two.
Newgarden held back and mounted a charge but was again denied with 2 to go. Then, coming to the checkered flag, Newgarden decided to go low before Power could cut him off. They ran each other all the way to the inside wall, kicking up dust in their pursuit for victory.

However, Power's move was enough to keep his teammate behind and win the ABC Supply 500. The 32nd win of his career tied him for 9th on the all time list with Paul Tracy and launched him into the championship picture. Despite being lapped for part of the race and almost spinning later on, he defied the odds, telling NBCSports "You can never give up in IndyCar because you never know what can happen."

Josef Newgarden told NBC he "can't be disappointed" with his day, and for good reason. He now holds an 18 point lead in the standings over Helio Castroneves.

But the points battle is still tight. Next week, the series returns to Gateway Raceway in St. Louis for the first time since 2003, where Helio Castroneves is a former winner, and as Will Power said, you never know what can happen.

The More Things Change...

It's summertime 2006. I'm unknowingly in my second season of following ChampCar/IRL for more than a few races per year. My nights are spent watching wrestling and late night sitcom reruns on the UPN station out of Atlanta (Chattanooga didn't have one), my days are spent with a mix of sleep and marathons of Burnout Revenge on the PlayStation 2, with my weekends spent at my friend Boone's house watching NASCAR Busch races and bootleg tapes of obscure cartoons. My first crush is a girl named Kaitlin and I just saw Texas and all states in between for the first time.
The soundtrack to that summer is the ever romantic "I'm N Luv (Wit A Stripper)" by T-Pain. (ya know, of "Buy U A Drank" fame?) Oddly enough, I'll never be able to see The Alamo again without thinking about it.
Speed Channel is a constant on my television. Not knowing of too many trustworthy racing news sites (and fearing viruses from places like Geocities and Tripod), I get most of my news from Dave Despain and Bob Varsha.
Fun times to be a kid.

I had heard rumblings of NASCAR unveling the ominous sounding, grandiose "Car Of Tomorrow" at Daytona, but thanks to a vacation to Biloxi, Mississippi I missed out on seeing said unveling on Speed during the Firecracker 400 weekend. I had heard it had a wing and was excited, despite knowing it still seemed like something from that cartoon, NASCAR Racers.
It wasn't until 2 or so weeks after the fact that I got to see it. While being sold on the idea of embracing the future, I was by no means sold on the boxy, lumbered look of the COT. Compared to the sleek, curvy, slender cars of Nextel Cup at the time, this new thing looked like a dump truck.
Boone and I had a rather pensive discussion the weekend of the NASCAR Pennsylvania 500 that summer, as most kids do as they prepare to enter middle school. We discussed what was important to us at the time, what we wanted to grow up to be, the fear of fitting in at a new school, and the fear of growing apart. Then, as if it meant the world to me, with the kind of adorable, innocent, parylized fear only an 11 year old could have, I looked at him and asked "Dude, what if the new car sucks?"

Fast forward half my life so far later and a lot has changed. UPN's gone, Speed's gone, my PS2 hasn't been used for anything but an old F1 game in 3 years. (Spectator mode in the 989 games is how I practice commentary.)
Most importantly, The Split ended in '08 and I've been fully converted to IndyCar since 2005.
But our worst fears came true. Boone and I grew apart and the Car Of Tomorrow can be summed up as polarizing at best.

I find myself now in a similar but different position. Instead of fearing middle school, I turn 23 in 2 months and it scares the hell out of me. Mom only lived to be 42, after all, so health is becoming a concern. Beyond that, time's a tickin' on pouring the foundation for my future. Who knows where this racing stuff will take me? But those fears are just as deep as my fear of what would go on to be the best years of my childhood. The fear of fitting into the sport of auto racing feels just like my fear of fitting in with the football players a decade ago.

Similar too is the world of IndyCar. The engineering marvel that is the 2018 car was unveiled earlier in the summer, and it's one sexy beast. It will be the second new car of the Reconstruction Era, and it couldn't be a more exciting time to give the fans something new.
But on many levels, the fear I had over the COT in NASCAR is back.
Funny, it's Pocono weekend for IndyCar and my love for 2000s hip hop mixed with insomnia brought me back to T-Pain at around 3AM.
It has me thinking, fearing whether or not this new car will be as good as the DW12. As a fan, that fear exists because it's been a great car. All 6 Indy 500s with the DW12, they've been bangers, as the kids say. And my already strong appreciation for road racing skyrocketed in 2012. Simply put, the racing, especialy on ovals, has been tremendous. Professionally, my life has become intertwined with this sport. With a little luck, my life will revolve around this sport soon. I want nothing more than for IndyCar to regrow and become known by race fans as the place "Where the big boys play," to steal a slogan from my old line of work. It would be a crime and a major setback if the 2018 car didn't meet expectations. I'd hate to see our sport hindered by technology.
But there is hope and I am more than confident that things will only get even better. The Mid-Ohio test gave me added optimism. IndyCar isn't the thrilling series that it is by luck, after all. And at the very least, the cars ooze beauty inside and out. However, we will see if the anxiety is quelled when the season begins next spring.

And just like that summer night where Boone and I stayed up talking all those yesterdays ago, dawn brings with it the realization that things will be okay. Through pieces like this I can hopefully find a job in the business, and worst case scenario, the 2018 car will be an ever changing work in progress, with engineers striving to make it cutting edge, competitive, and captivating. Even if it isn't perfect right away, it can be improved.

And just like in 2006, my plan for Sunday is to sit back and soak in 500 miles of racing at Pocono, albeit with a different form of race car. I'll have in mind my childhood optimism, to enjoy the races we have left with such wonderful racing machines. A little older, I'll have a beer in hand, taking notes for a write up.

So I guess, as they say, the more things change, the more they stay the same, and that's alright. We'll all be here to roll with the changes.

A Second Helping: My Time At The Honda Indy 200

            2017 Has been quite the year for me to say the least. If you had told me a year ago that people like Robin Miller would even know my name, let alone offer up advice on how to “make it” in racing media on a frequent basis, I'd have thought you were crazy. But, this past April, magic happened. Well, magic for me anyway.

During my first experience, on Friday at Barber, I struck up conversation with Mr. Miller on pit road...during a practice session being taped for NBC Sports. I'm not exactly certain it was the most professional time and place, him being on the clock and all, but when your journalism hero is standing right beside you, it's hard not to be tenacious and speak up. We talked at length in the media center, exchanged business cards, and went about our assignments.

He told me to email him and send him a story that I could shop around by the following Wednesday. I did, of course. He passed it around, it got overwhelming approval, but as the luster of the weekend faded, I returned to my bargain bin Bruce Wayne life of stand up comedy and co-hosting Sports Viewpoints with Bill Bolen at TV39.

When a TV station is in a single wide trailer (And was once a UPN affiliate), you know you're working on borrowed time. Even in April, it was entirely possible the station would close before my piece on Barber even aired.

By late spring, I had put in place plans to move, and it just so happens Chattanooga's Tower of Low Power was to cease operations on July 1^st with the final Sports Viewpoints airing the night before. We went out with a bang, sipping champagne on the air and reminiscing about shows long past.

Just days later I found myself out of a job, living with my brother and his wife in Dayton, Ohio.

So what do you do when your TV show gets canceled? I reached out to another pal, Pat Caporali, IndyCar's senior manager of media relations. We met at Barber and have stayed in touch. She's turned out to be one of the most helpful people I could ask for. I told her the position I was in, and she invited me to work as media at Mid-Ohio. Great! Except now with no name but my own to rely on, what was I supposed to do?

I did all I know to do, and that's book a hotel, put on my road trip playlist (The Strokes, Tom Petty, and Pearl Jam mostly), jump in the Ford Fiesta and party on over to Lexington.

My first impression of the Mid-Ohio Sports Car Course reminded me of home. It had a more rustic, farm style look than I expected. Honestly, when driving in it looked like the kind of field where Billy Corgan would have wanted a Smashing Pumpkins video shot in the 90s. Maybe I was spoiled by how pristine Barber is. It took me by surprise, but the down home charm hooked me in and made me fall in love. This was, after all, only my second trip to a road course as media, so I was very much star-crossed.
Mid-Ohio is popular among fans and personnel alike for its tremendous campsites. The sea of tents and RVs in the lot is impressive, and it's no surprise campsites are in such high demand given the views from every inch of the course. This place, although showing its age, is still just as beautiful as I imagine it was when the first generation of Rahal and Andretti were going toe to toe there.

The media center is in The Treehouse, the big tower behind pit road, and upon entering I quickly felt more like I was at summer camp than a race. This was going to be a fun weekend.

I got there just about as early as possible on Saturday morning. The media center opens at 7AM and I was checking in for the weekend at 7:15. With no cars on track, I ran to the paddock and shot some beautiful breakfast time B-Roll (I just love alliterations). Pat came to greet me shortly after 9 and I was off to the races, pun very much intended. She reintroduced me to her coworkers and to some new people with whom I'm eager to work at some point, but the coolest thing she showed me was the view of the paddock. It's amazing, and it's not just for media, it's for fans too. You can walk up a short set of steps and look down at your team of choice working on their car. It's a full overhead view, one from which you can see everything. It's a one of a kind experience exclusive to Mid-Ohio, and one that any gearhead will appreciate.

One of the big things I noticed throughout the weekend was just how interactive IndyCar is. It reinforced a lot of what I learned at Barber. If a driver is within a fan's line of sight, they're more than happy to take a photo or sign an autograph. Even the legends of the sport like Mario Andretti take time to speak with fans. I saw two younger women gushing over getting to meet the once ruler of the racing world as if they were teens meeting the Backstreet Boys in 1999. Unlike other forms of racing where drivers are often behind a fence and hard to talk to, IndyCar's stars are friendly and more than willing to make a fan's day. Nowhere else was this more proven than when I assisted in Graham Rahal's judging of the annual campground decorating contest. Originally just for contestants, Graham hauled  3 boxes of t-shirts to give away. Rahal is the hometown hero, the fan favorite, and word got around quickly that he was riding around the campground. He gave a shirt to each and every fan who asked for one, passing them out like Halloween candy. He even threw some at unsuspecting campers. What was supposed to take an hour turned into three as he took selfies, signed autographs...oh yeah, and judged the contest. It turned out to be a lot of fun.

Meanwhile I had shot 4 hours of footage throughout the day, and qualifying was next up. Pat told me I could shoot the P1 Award celebration alongside the “real” production crew and photographers. I was nervous yet excited. Imagine being a teenager getting asked out by the prom king. It's tense, but the kind of tension you live for. This was, after all, my first chance to mix it up with any and everyone who shoots this sport and gets paid for it. And if I ever want to rock The Peacock on my polo shirts, I'd darn well better get in there and mix it up like my Mom's chili. And I'd say it went well, nosing my way into the pit and getting within a brush stroke of PoleWinner Will Power's silver and red Chevy, being front and center for his reception of his 49^th P1 Award trophy. Not bad for my first time being thrown in with the sharks.

After qualifying, exhausted doesn't even begin to describe how I felt. 36 Hours with no sleep, combined with the massive adrenaline dump meant I was falling asleep in my dinner at Denny's. I felt like Elvis that time he passed out in soup, except the burns on my face were from the sun. To decompress, I spent an hour in the hotel pool and decided to not even think about the race day ahead. I plugged my camera batteries in to charge, put on some Lou Reed, and fell asleep on the pull out couch.

I awoke a few hours later to race day, and if those two words don't excite you, nothing will. The tension in the press room, the drama on track, it's the kind of thing that gets your blood pumping. I shot footage on the grid for the first time, and I noticed a strange juxtaposition between the innocent jubilation of the fans and the brutally intense focus of drivers and teams. Peeking in on a Team Penske prerace pep talk with The Captain himself hammered home the point that this was serious business, even if just yards away fans were going wild over the mere sight of team owner (and personal hero) David Letterman.

When the grid was cleared to begin the race, I was kicked out of pit road. Security was confused as to which pass meant which, the only complaint I have about the whole weekend. When that was resolved, I watched part of the race from behind the pitbox of Graham Rahal. He was running near the front and was a short jog from the eventual winner's pitbox. Everything was going great until about halfway in when I went to scratch my ear and it felt like it had exploded. The sound was even more savage. I ran to the medical center behind pit road where, after a series of questions that put blood banks to shame, I was told I had severe sunburn and that what had exploded was a blister. I was given some burn cream and was back in the game.

The drivers were gearing up for the only restart of the day, and realizing this might be a repeat of Barber, I ran down to the pitbox of Josef Newgarden. Watching the finish of a race from behind the pitbox of the winner is emotionally intimidating. The nailbiting, the anxiety that this could be the moment all hell breaks loose and the race is lost-surely, I thought, these guys have been here before, right? I mean, it's Penske. I realized that doesn't matter, winning  is a dream come true every time, and losing feels like a dagger in the heart. Walking that line until the fat lady sings is excruciating.

Newgarden won, and for the second time this year I got to run to victory lane. It's pretty funny, if you watch the broadcast, you can see a green dot rushing to get as good a shot, to get as close to the car as possible. That's me. I was in the best position, able to sit on the left sidepod if I so chose. The next thing I know, I'm next to Roger Penske, across from Will Power, Josef gets out of the car and I get the best shot of my career- or so I thought. My battery went dead and the file became corrupted mid-shot. I was furious, but I decided to make up for it at the podium celebration. Third time I had to wade through a sea of journalists and photographers, and I think I'm getting the hang of this. Even though I busted my best pair of dress pants crawling under someone, bah gawd I was once again at the front, getting a clear shot of the confetti cannons showering the top three with paper stars. I felt like I had done myself proud by hanging tough with the big dogs, something I continued to do in the press conference. Those are funny, because new journalists seem to have to ask tough, out of the box questions to get noticed and earned respect. I asked Josef about whether he was nervous or not about St. Louis being the only track at which he hasn't raced, and how the pressure of being the points leader could affect that. I proved, at least to myself anyway, that I actually knew what I was doing and could thrive in this environment if given a week to week chance.

When the champagne evaporated and the sun began to set, I shot my wrap arounds and went back to the Treehouse to say thanks to Pat, Mike Kitchel, and everyone who made the weekend possible. This series is filled with good people and I'm happy to get to join them when possible. It was likely my last race day experience of the season, and as my brother pulled away in the Fiesta, I began to think about the year I've had. A once dear friend once summed me up as pensive, and boy was I as the gorgeous Columbus skyline came into view. This year, I rode the rails of local TV until the train rolled off the tracks, ventured into a new world in standup comedy, and most importantly got to cover the IndyCar Series for two races, all things a ten year old me would have squealed over. It was through perseverance and the help of some kind strangers turned friends and colleagues that I was able to do any of it.

It's just over 8 months until Barber next season, if the 2018 schedule mirrors this year's. I have no idea what I'll be doing or who I'll be working for, but I'd like to imagine I'll be enjoying my third media experience, or maybe fourth, fifth, etc. by that point.

I've learned a lot from these two races, the most important being that tenacity is key in motorsport, no matter if you wear a firesuit or a suit and tie. I feel like that will take me farther than anything. These opportunities have been nothing short of amazing for a kid raised in stock car country, and you can bet I can't wait until opportunity comes knocking again.



Link to my piece on the race:      https://youtu.be/lFNWGDwBOv0

Sorry Folks!

Hi, everyone! Sorry for the lack of updates since the Indy 500. A lot of things have been going on. I've moved to Ohio and have lots of fun things to share with you all, starting with my thoughts on my second experience as media at an IndyCar Series race!

I hope you look forward to reading them!