‘Unbeaten’ Wild must pick GM carefully
The Minnesota Wild will enter the National Hockey League as a new franchise in the fall of the year 2000, which means we all have over a year to figure out whether “Wild” is singular or plural. I mean, do we say “the Wild is,” or “the Wild are…” For now, let’s say the Wild
are, even though they aren’t, yet.
“We don’t lose a game for 17 more months,” said Bill Robertson, the
director of communications for the Wild.
Great line. The team doesn’t drop a puck in its new St. Paul arena
for 17 more months, so why not capitalize on its ongoing “unbeaten”
streak?
Robertson, who grew up in Minnesota and is one of us, was the
Minnesota Timberwolves communications director for the first five
years of their existence, then he took on the same role to help launch
the Anaheim Mighty Ducks NHL franchise. So he comes home with
some serious background in how to guide a pro sports franchise in
Minnesota, and how to help get a fledgling NHL franchise off the
ground.
When the Wild came to Duluth a couple of weeks ago, led by Jac Sperling, the club’s chief
executive officer, and Robertson, Sperling could spare only about five minutes on the telephone. I asked him what he planned to say to the folks in Duluth.
“Whatever they want to hear,” Sperling said. “I mean, we’ll talk about
whatever they want to talk about.”
Freudian slip or not, he was right the first time. At
this point, Sperling can only try to tell hockey folks around the state
what they want to hear. Good cheer, good stuff, positive, and maybe
you want to buy a season ticket. The serious stuff is a general
manager, a decision that must be made soon.
“From the standpoint of being a good judge of hockey talent,
understanding the dealings with player agents and the collective
bargaining rules, the ability to negotiate and deal with other general
managers, working with the media, and being a good team player,
all are important factors in our selection,” Sperling said.
“It’s also important for us to get someone who has acceptance in the
community. Our intention is to find the best person for the job, to get
us to where we need to be both in business and in hockey. I think it
is important that we pick someone for general manager who is
either an existing general manager or assistant general manager in
the league right now.”
Interesting, because if Sperling is making the selection himself, he also can choose any parameters in order to narrow his search, such as “over 6-foot-3,” or “an Aries.” Before the general manager and coach are named, however, let’s speculate on what might be, and could be.
If it were my franchise, I would name Herb Brooks coach and director of player personnel, and I would name Neil Sheehy general manager.
Period.
That would be a bold, new combination that would generate 100
percent pure support, simply because everybody in the state of
Minnesota would know that those two would work their hardest to
achieve the best.
Minnesota sports fans demand a winner in football, baseball
and basketball. In hockey they’d also like a winner. But with the incredible network of grassroots support, where fans watch and cheer for the likes of Shjon Podein, Derek Plante, Jeff Neilson, Darby Hendrickson, Lance Pitlick, Jamie Langenbrunner, and many others as they go from Peewees to high school, then usually to college and maybe to the NHL, fans are much more tolerant in pursuit of victories if there is honest, competitive effort.
Brooks, of course, is Minnesota’s No. 1 hockey icon. He not only
coached the University of Minnesota to three NCAA titles — the
Gophers ONLY three titles — in a six-year span, but he gathered up a
batch of college guys and won the 1980 Olympic gold medal for the
U.S., against Russian, Swedish, Finnish and Czech teams loaded
with players who later would change the face of NHL hockey.
You might remember Brooks later taking Mark Pavelich with him and turning the plodding New York Rangers into a lively, exciting team, which was a lot like turning plowhorses into Kentucky Derby sprinters. He also coached the New Jersey Devils, and spent one injury-filled, franchise-shifting season with the Minnesota North Stars. Brooks’ last coaching assignment was with the French national and Olympic team. Brooks can’t speak any French, but under his guidance, France upset the U.S. in the World Tournament a year ago. In case you missed it, this year’s World Tournament was won by the Czech Republic, while France — with mostly the same players Brooks had — was winless.
Brooks is simply the most clever, creative tactical wizard in the
game, today or any day, and it is a sad testimony to the sport of
hockey that the most brilliant tactician in the game is NOT coaching.
Traditionalists fear the progressive and unpredictable mind of Herb Brooks. The people who don’t understand will criticize Brooks as a rebel. But Minnesota hockey fans know better. They know Brooks, they believe in him, and they know that his presence will mean they won’t be getting ripped off when they plunk down their investment in a ticket.
Sheehy, meanwhile, was a tough, hard-core, uncompromising
defenseman at International Falls and Harvard and in the NHL, at
places such as Calgary and Washington. He wanted to become a
player agent, but only after completing a law degree. Sheehy has not only been an
astute agent, but he has counseled executives of the NHL Players
Association, debated various NHL executives, and has risen so fast
in his dealings with USA Hockey’s amateur organization that he
would be a shoo-in to take over as executive of that operation, if he
wanted it.
Sheehy doesn’t fit Sperling’s criteria as an existing GM or assistant. He’s way beyond that. Furthermore, while he is young, knowledgeable and aggressive, Sheehy commands the respect of every GM in the NHL, and gets along so well in a concept of mutual respect with Brooks that the two would be a fabulous and imaginative duo.
But all of that would only work if the Minnesota Wild has the courage to make a bold, new stand with their bold, new franchise. The alternative is to play it safe and conservative, going with a staff recycled from among the NHL’s status quo. In that case, however, the Wild had better be prepared for a far less-patient, win-or-else response from the fans.
My guess is that Jac Sperling plans on trying to sign Bobby Smith as
general manager. Smith aligned himself with the Winnipeg Jets
franchise when it was purchased and moved. The Jets had the intention of
relocating in Minnesota, but the Timberwolves had all the revenue
streams at Target Center so tied up there was no opportunity for an
NHL club to even hope to break even. So the Jets moved
on to Phoenix to become the Coyotes, and Bobby Smith is now their
“existing” general manager.
Jac Sperling, meanwhile, got his law degree from the University of
Virginia, and is a member of the Colorado bar. He worked for the
city of Memphis in its effort to keep the minor league Memphis
Chicks from relocating; for several ski areas and tourism industry
groups; for a group that tried to negotiate for a new stadium for the
Seattle Mariners; for the Port Authority of San Francisco in its
negotiations for a new stadium for the baseball Giants; for the
ownership group of the NBA Denver Nuggets and the NHL Colorado
Avalanche; for the Maryland Stadium Authority in its relocation of the
Cleveland Browns transformation to the Baltimore Ravens; for
negotiations to finance the Milwaukee Brewers new stadium; and for
Denver’s group in the planning and building of Coors Field for the
Colorado Rockies.
Sperling also represented Richard Burke’s ownership group that bought the Jets and settled in Phoenix. That is where he would have come into close contact with Bobby Smith, the two-time star
centerman of the North Stars, who is one of the most impressive individuals both on the ice and off the NHL’s rinks, and, presumably, in the front office.
That connection may mean nothing more than happenstance. But Smith also fits all of
Sperling’s self-proclaimed criteria, including current status as a GM.
Racing opener heats up chilly night in Superior
Ah, early-season auto racing Up North.
If a first-time visitor had any questions about the risks of running a race show in May, those questions all were answered at Superior Speedway’s season-opener last Friday night. It didn’t matter which of the other Up North tracks got rained out, or hadn’t started yet. There was a break in the week of otherwise-constant rain and wind, which was enough motivation for a couple thousand race fans to show up early to pay $8 for a seat in the grandstand on a bright, clear evening with a beautiful sunset.
The races were good. Very good. It will be the same at Proctor, Hibbing, Ashland and Grand Rapids, but this was Superior’s night. In the time-honored tradition of short-track racing, the heats were of varying degrees of exciting in Street Stock, Super Stock, Modified, and Late Model, and they served to provide the basis for the fans to pick out their favorite cars — still basically unbent, because this was the opener — for the upcoming features.
The long intermission, with a heavy-duty construction grader and a guy on a Farmall tractor grooming the track, provided plenty of time for conjecture about who was best, and for everybody to make a couple passes at the concession stand. And the feature races in all classes were nothing short of spectacular.
Never mind that the wind was still whistling in off Lake Superior, and the temperature, which didn’t seem to match the intensity that the sunshine promised at the start, dropped enough so you could see your breath by feature time. Put on a jacket, but bring warmer clothes, just in case. Then you could make a couple trips to the car during the night and replenish your insulation. In the end, a turtleneck under a sweatshirt, covered by a fleece-lined nylon jacket, and with a pullover windbreaker over all of that, a hat pulled down to your ears, and hiking boots under the cuffs of your jeans, was just about right. Gloves, though, would have been a nice addition.
Still, the fans didn’t seem bothered by the harshness. They were warmed up by the corndogs, pizza, popcorn and coffee…lots of coffee…from the concession stands.
That’s the great thing about folks Up North: You do what you want to do, and if the weather isn’t perfect, you do it anyway.
The races themselves were the primary source of heating up the night. The cars looked good, in all four classes. They will look less good as body panels get bent up during the season, and it may be tougher to see the printing “Thanks mom & dad, and Jack N Edna’s Bar” on the heat-winning modified, but it’s a strong, competitive crop.
The Late Models, the fastest and most attractive, had a couple interesting heats. In the first heat, there were three No. 1 cars. Makes it easier to pick a favorite. Just take No. 1. Near the end, the top four cars were, by number, 1-1-44-1 up front. In the second heat, there was only one No. 1, but there were two No. 3 cars.
In some forms of racing, the champion in a class one year gets the honor of having No. 1 the next. The governing Wissota rules somehow don’t seem to care how many duplicate numbers there are. Maybe they could all be No. 1, and then put their “real” number in smaller print, next to it. Instead, they put a little letter next to the number. So in the second heat, 3D was the winner, beating 3W in a strong performance by teammates in Dean Johnson Chevrolets.
Donnie Copp, a phenom in Modified racing up through last season, is in 3D (Donnie being the reason for the “D”), while Pete Wohlers is in 3W. Copp ran as if he were still in a lightweight Mod, flying past cars and running up the banking in Turn 1 as if heading into the wall, then cocking the car into an abrupt angle to ride the highside of the turn. As other cars ducked low to repass Copp, he would come flying down off the banking and zoom back ahead on the backstretch. That procedure worked all race, although Wohlers worked up through traffic to finish second.
After regrooming the track surface to eliminate the bigger holes and bumps, race officials decided to run the costliest Late Models first in the round of 15-lap features, a rare departure from the norm. In the feature, all four No. 1 cars were poised, with two of them in the front row. The announcer explained who was on the pole, then awarded someone the honor of “outside pole,” even though the pole can only be the inside of the front row.
Didn’t matter, though, because Wohlers, from Hermantown, shot past everybody at the start, plowing high in the turns, and launching off the banking for straightaway shots that made his 3W look like it was in the wrong class. He led by the length ofthe straightaway after five laps, and dominated to win with that spectacular style.
Super Stocks, which must be at least 2,800 pounds compared to the swifter Late Models’ 2,300, had No. 2 Brady Smith of Solon Springs and No. 2 of Randy Silverness from Superior running nose to tail. It was a great duel, with Silverness running the outside groove and holding the narrowest of leads as the two sped away from the rest of the competitors. On the final laps, they were closing in on tail-end traffic, and as Silverness set up high and came off Turn 4, he had to let off the power for an instant to avoid a slower car. In that instant, Smith cut inside and zipped past to grab the victory.
The Modified feature even had a dose of racing luck decide the outcome, as Duluth’s Eddie Wakefield led Kelly Estey of Kelly Lake from the start. Wakefield, also finding success running high, kept leaving the inside open for Estey to challenge. The inside groove on the 3/8-mile oval is far shorter than the outside, but if you go into either end low, you can’t come out as fast as the high-runners, who can get on the power sooner and come off the banking with more momentum.
Lap after lap, Estey tried the inside, sticking his nose ahead a few times, but never able to hold it on the straights. Halfway through, though, Estey made his inside pass hold up. Then it was Wakefield’s turn to try the inside, and with three laps to go, Wakefield got ahead and held a slim margin as the two strained for position all the way around the track.
Coming out of Turn 4, however, they were greeted with a yellow caution light because a car had stalled on the straightaway. The rules say the order reverts to the last completed lap on a yellow, so Estey was placed back in front for the single-file restart. Wakefield gave it his best shot on the final two laps, but Estey held on for the victory.
The Street Stocks, usually the preliminary, ran last on that opening night show, but they, too, put on a classic. Kelly Checkalski of South Range led until the last turn of the last lap, then Scott Lawrence of Superior snuck by to snatch the victory.
The risk of running the Late Models first meant that the fans could take off for the warm shelter of their cars before the finale, but hardly anybody left. Only those for whom the hot dogs, coffee, turtlenecks, sweatshirts and windbreakers weren’t quite enough. The hardiest fans stayed to the finish, knowing that the chill from that lake breeze was only a temporary harshness; nothing, really, compared to the benefits from Up North racing in May.
Hockey Hall of Fame historian Clark dies
The hockey world lost one of its most respected figures and universally loved historians when Don Clark died Monday at his home in Cumberland, Wis., at age 83.
Clark, whose intense interest in hockey covers more than 50 years, includes helping found the Minnesota Amateur Hockey Association in 1947. He later managed various amateur and U.S. National teams, and became an official in the Amateur Hockey Association of the U.S. (later USA Hockey).
Ever-humble, Clark was best known as a historian — virtually a walking encyclopedia who could relay countless elements tracing the development of hockey in Minnesota and the country. He was such a devoted and influential part of the sport that he was inducted to the U.S. Hockey Hall of Fame in Eveleth in 1978.
While that was just one of numerous honors and awards bestowed on the ever-humble Clark, he remained a firm supporter and constant booster of hockey development, a tireless worker to his final days, who promoted development and expansion of the sport while always insistent on avoiding the spotlight, prefering to let others take the credit.
Clark’s health had been faltering since he suffered a heart attack last Nov. 1, and he was treated for congestive heart failure during the winter, which confined him to his home in Cumberland.
“But he got out of bed to the opening ceremonies of a new arena that was built in Siren (Wis.) about six weeks ago,” said John Clark, one of his three sons. “He was on oxygen, but nothing stopped him. He was hoping to go out in a little while for another new arena in the Baldwin area.”
Clark is survived by his wife, Harriet, and sone Mark of Cumberland, Tom of St. Paul, and John, of Inver Grove Heights.
His wife and sons were with him through his final days. “He knew he was dying, but he still had a lot of curiosity, and we had some touching conversations with him last Sunday,” said son John. “He was so weak the last few weeks that you could hardly hear his voice, but he was still able to comfort my mother.”
Clark was born May 25, 1915, in Kensal, N.D., and grew up in Faribault, Minn., where he played amateur baseball and hockey. He was a good enough baseball player to be named to a Southern Minny League all-star team tht played against the Minneapolis Millers of the American Association, when Ted Williams was on the Millers team.
He was in the Civilian Conservation Corps before graduating in dairy science from the University of Minnesota. He worked for 20 years for the Twin Cities Milk Producer’s Association, and was one of the founders of the Minnesota Dairy Technology Society. He remained active in hockey, and he joined Robert Ridder and Buck Riley in founding the Minnesota Amateur Hockey Association in 1947. He held various administrative officers in MAHA from that date until 1988, during which time the number of registered hockey teams grew from 45 to nearly 4,000, and the number of indoor ice facilities grew from 13 to more than 220.
In 1952, Clark organized the first statewide tournament for Bantam hockey teams — the first state tournament of its kind in the U.S. He was the manager of the 1958 U.S. National hockey team, which was the first U.S. sports team to ever compete in the Soviet Union, and in 1959-60, Clark was manager of the Green Bay Bobcats, which won the U.S. Hockey League championship.
In 1961, he was hired as lab supervisor at the Stella Cheese company in Cumberland, but he stayed deeply involved in hockey from then until his retirement in 1980, and well beyond. He continued to serve in administrative positions and as a director of organizations such as AHAUS and MAHA, and his interest in hockey history and memorabilia made it logical that he helped organize and served as president for the U.S. Hockey Hall of Fame.
Along with his induction to the Hall, Clark was presented with the National Hockey League’s Lester Patrick Award, the Hall of Fame’s Heritage Award, the Minnesota North Stars “Maroosh” Award, and the annual award for dedicated service presented by the Minnesota high school coaches association.
As a historian, Clark was constantly consulted by authors and writers and provided endless supplies of information. He was responsible for compiling the AHAUS and Olympic hockey guide books from the 1950s until the 1980s.
Funeral services for Clark will be at 1 p.m. Saturday at St. Anthony’s Church in Cumberland, with burial at Lakeside Cemetery. Visitation will be at Skinner Funeral Home in Cumberland on Friday from 4-8 p.m., and at the church an hour before the funeral services. Memorials may be sent to Regional Hospice of Ashland, Wis., or to the Donald M. Clark Hockey Scholarship Award at the University of Minnesota.
Knapp hopes to improve on 3rd-place finish at Indy
[Here’s an all-time great pull-out quote:
“I was flying upside down and backwards at 185 miles per hour, 15 feet off the ground. I was in the air so long that I had a lot of time to think: I realized the car was going to land upside down, so I moved my hands down to hang on to the bottom of the steering wheel; then I pulled my feet in, and prayed a lot as I waited for the impact.” ]
Steve Knapp is ready for this weekend’s qualifying for his second Indianapolis 500, but despite a number of incredible experiences, his biggest challenge is just to return to the high standards he set as a rookie last May.
“I think it’s going to take an average speed of 218 to make the field this year,” said Knapp. “But I think after we get everything figured out we’ll have a car that’s at least as good as last year.”
Knapp has no illusions of trying for the pole position as fastest qualifier in Saturday’s opening time trials, but, with typical pragmatism, he is only concerned with getting into the 33-car field for the May 30 race. Then he can focus on trying to match the remarkable third-place finish of a year ago that made Knapp an Up North motorsports hero.
A native of Cokato, Minn., Knapp, 34, lives in Salem, Wis., with his wife, Bobbi, and son Logan, 8. He moved there to start Elite Engines, when trying to finance his own racing proved futile and led to building race motors for other drivers. His business required him to abandon his own race-driving for several years, until he ran a test in 1995 that so impressed client John Miller of Minneapolis that he helped Knapp return to competitive driving in 1996.
Knapp’s skill, showing equal parts courage, finesse and poise, earned an opportunity to drive in last year’s Indy 500 as Jeff Ward’s teammate on the ISM race team. The team restricted Knapp’s car, compromising top speed for the control of more downforce. Nevertheless, he won rookie of the year honors when he finished third behind Eddie Cheever and Buddy Lazier.
While maneuvering through various crashes and problems in the Indy Racing League’s crown jewel event, Knapp showed remarkable poise. The head broke off a fastening screw on a pit stop, and the front cowling of his car’s bodywork started fluttering up from the wind pressure, so he came right back to the pits so the crew could secure the body panel with duct-tape.
Five laps later, as the car hurtled down the straights at 220 miles per hour, the tape started peeling up. Knapp knew the importance of making it to the next fuel stop, so he decided to hold the panel in place by hand.
“The first time I reached out, the force of the airflow snapped my arm back so hard that my right hand hit my helmet,” Knapp said. “It hit so hard that my hand went numb. I thought I broke my hand.”
When he got some feeling back in his hand, he reached out, low and snake-like, sliding his hand along the bodywork until he reached the taped-down body panel. He drove 15 laps that way, one hand on the wheel and holding the car together — literally — with the other hand. Not bad for a rookie, whose cool under pressure was pivotal in his ultimate third-place finish.
He had less luck, but more indelibly frightening experiences, on the rest of last year’s IRL circuit.
At Dover, a strut on his rear stabilizer wing apparently broke, throwing his car out of control in a turn. “I spun so hard that I blacked out, because it was ‘way more load than I’ve ever experienced,” said Knapp. “It was like I woke up in a dream with tire smoke coming off the front end. Suddenly I realized, ‘Oh-oh, this is Dover, and I’m going to hit the wall.’ ”
He suffered a concussion in that incident, which knocked him out of the next race. But that was nothing compared to Atlanta, where Billy Boat and Marco Greco collided, and Knapp saw it all and started to slow down. Unaware of what was happening ahead, Robby Unser sped past Knapp on the outside, then saw the crash ahead and slammed on his brakes, swerving down to the left — right into Knapp’s path.
“My right front tire hit his left front, and I flipped,” Knapp said, recalling the whole incident in chilling detail. “I was flying upside down and backwards at 185 miles per hour, 15 feet off the ground. I was in the air so long that I had a lot of time to think: I realized the car was going to land upside down, so I moved my hands down to hang on to the bottom of the steering wheel; then I pulled my feet in, and prayed a lot as I waited for the impact.”
The car hit upside down and flipped four times, hitting the wall on the first flip with such force that the rollbar punctured the body of his car. But again, his ability to think clearly in times of incredible stress allowed Knapp to escape uninjured, except for a couple of bruises on the top of his feet.
His skill on the track and his patience off it has paid off with a better situation with ISM. “I had two offers to drive for other teams after the Speedway last year,” Knapp said. “But ISM advised me to turn them down and said they’d try to get me a second car. It didn’t work out, though.”
This year, however, ISM and Ward went separate ways, and ISM came immediately to Knapp and made him the team’s only driver. He has spent some serious testing time for Indy, and got up over the 220 mark on Wednesday. The ISM team now has some new motors and completed a second car. Knapp will drive to set-up both of them, then take his pick for qualifying. The team may put Marco Greco into the second car.
“The hard lesson I’ve learned this year,” said Knapp, “is you’ve got to be good, but you’ve also got to be ready when the opportunity comes along.”
Indy 500 has lost the appeal of past years
The first time I ever went to the Indianapolis 500 was in 1969. Mario Andretti was a young hotshot who won that race in his backup car, and owner Andy Granatelli was so excited that he planted a giant kiss on Andretti’s cheek in Victory Lane. More than the race, however, I can remember how astonished I was at the sheer magnitude of that event, 30 years ago this weekend.
In the succeeding years, the Indy 500, which already was the largest single sports event in the world, grew in enormity. Twenty five years ago, a hotel room you could get for $35 a night every day of every other week in the year cost you $150 a night with a three-day minimum, which seemed outrageous at the time. Restaurants such as St. Elmo’s Steakhouse in downtown Indianapolis used to put a strip of white tape over their prices and write in new ones, just for the weekend.
In later years, that would have been a bargain. The three-day minimum increased, up to a package deal of $1,500, and beyond. It got to the point where a lot of journalists found monthly rates that weren’t much more than that, then it made economic sense to also go to Indianapolis for both qualifying weekends.
It is worth little more than an aside to realize that after Andretti won the ’69 race, everybody in the world assumed it would be just the first of several Indy 500 victories for the popular little Italian, but he never won it again. Coincidentally, that 1969 Indy 500 was the first one for the late Mark Donohue, driving for Roger Penske, which joined England’s Team McLaren to lead a new era of threats from road-racing to take on the traditional oval-track racers up from Sprint and Midget competition.
Team McLaren and Penske renovated their own garages in Gasoline Alley, and I can recall strolling around Gasoline Alley a couple days before race day, watching crew members from other teams look on in awe at the tiled floors and brightly lighted quarters these “sporty-car” guys set up. There was some awe, all right, and also some scorn, although the scorn turned to grudging admiration when those invaders wrenched away the tradition of going from dirt sprinters to Indy, for a shot at racing’s Holy Grail. Suddenly, drivers like Donohue and Rick Mears proved that the escalating speed at Indy more required the precise touch of technical road-racers than being muscled around corners by sprint-car champs.
Indy races ranged from sensational to horrible, always unpredictably, during the past 30 years. The worst was the 1973 disaster, when the race was rained out twice, and Swede Savage, a promising young driver, died from burns suffered when his crashed car tumbled down the main straightaway, turning into a hulk of burning rubble in front of the main grandstand. Gordon Johncock finally won that race, which was mercifully rain-shortened on its third try.
Johnny Rutherford and brothers Al and Bobby Unser dominated for over a decade, with Al Sr. winning in 1970, ’71 and ’78, Bobby in ’75 and ’81, Rutherford in ’74, ’78 and 1980. But the tide was turning. Rutherford, a Texan, won his victories in Team McLaren cars, and Al Unser’s 1978 and 1987 victories, and Bobby Unser’s 1981 triumph came in Penske team cars. Penske also won with Donohue in 1972 and Rick Mears in 1979.
In ’81, Bobby Unser won and Mario Andretti was second, but after a protest that Unser had passed some cars illegally during caution slowdowns, Indy officials declared Mario the winner, only to later reverse the call and give it back to Unser.
Mears, the master at Indy for the following decade, won in 1984, ’88 and ’91 in addition to 1979, tying him with Al Unser Jr. and A.J. Foyt for the most Indy victories. Along with his conquests, Mears was involved in one of the Speedway’s most spectacular races, in 1982. Mears caught up to leader Johncock and the two went wheel-to-wheel with two laps to go, but finally Mears yielded to the more aggressive Johncock in Turn 1 and wound up one car-length behind as he tried a final pass attempt on the main straightaway.
That winning margin of 0.81 seconds was the closest Indy finish ever, until 1992, when Al Unser Jr. swerved in a serpentine fashion from Turn 4 to the checkered flag to keep Scott Goodyear from passing, outlasting Goodyear by less than a car-length for a victory by 0.043 seconds.
Al Unser Jr. also was embroiled in a last-lap, tire-bumping duel with Emerson Fittipaldi in 1989, when Fittipaldi moved inside Unser at Turn 3 on the 199th lap, and bunted Unser into a gentle spinout that eliminated him. Fitttipaldi came around for the checkered flag, and the two were so far ahead of the field that Al Jr. still wound up second, two laps in arrears.
In 1995, the last time the powerful contingent from the Championship Auto Racing Teams ran at Indy, Scott Goodyear led until a late-race caution set up one final restart. With Jacques Villeneuve behind him, Goodyear slowed to let the pace car clear, then accelerated hard, passing the pace car as it entered the pits. Goodyear was given the green flag and won the race, but afterward, he was protested for having passed the pace car. Chief steward Tom Binford said he saw Goodyear out of order and penalized Goodyear and awarded the victory to Villeneuve. Overlooked was the technicality that Binford, on the starter’s stand, should never have waved the green flag if Goodyear was out of order on the restart.
Behind the scenes, all this time, the purists at Indy never really accepted the hotshots from road-racing, particularly the European guys.
As the years passed, the sporty-car guys from Championship Auto Racing Teams dominated Indy, and the Indy 500 became the crown jewel in the CART season, leading CART officials to rename their racers “Indy Cars.” CART, which is run by a board of team owners, exerted more and more pressure on Indy, and the time came for rebellion four years ago.
Tony George, grandson of Tony Hulman, had taken over the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, and he decided to try to bring the Indy 500 back to the heartland’s beloved sprint and dirt circle-track racers, and to control the runaway expenses of the too-exotic CART cars. So he effectively outlawed CART entries from participating in 1996 by changing the rules to make illegal the exotic CART cars.
While CART took its faster and more sophisticated cars, and its superior drivers, and raced elsewhere against Indy, that first Indy 500 without CART commanded a full house. Race fans were so used to trekking to Indianapolis over Memorial Day weekend, and being thoroughly gouged by hotels and restaurants, that they did it by rote in 1996 when Buddy Lazier won a very exciting but clearly minor-league Indy 500.
In 1997, when Arie Luyendyk — who had won against all comers in 1990 — won his second Indy 500 in an incredibly close 0.57-second victory over his teammate, Scott Goodyear, visitors learned that the hotels that had held out for three or four day minimums all had a few vacancies at moderate prices the night before the race.
Last year, when Eddie Cheever won the Indy 500, the huge grandstands that used to be filled with 250,000 for one-at-a-time qualifying were virtually empty for time trials, and while the race still drew a crowd of 300,000, many of the fans drove in for a one-night stay the day before the race.
The economic blow to Indianapolis has been staggering, although veteran race-goers might celebrate the more-reasonable prices. This year, you can get a room at almost any hotel on race-day eve.
The IRL cars are better than ever, and while the drivers aren’t as well-known or as experienced at 200-mph racing as CART’s stars, it could be a spectacular race. What has evolved is that CART, which will hold its Motorola 300 at St. Louis’s suburban Gateway track in Madison, Ill., on Saturday, has the stars and the cars, but it no longer has the Indy 500 — its crown jewel; the IRL, without the stars and cars, has the Indy 500.
To recapture the magic of the past 10, 20, or 30 years, the IRL and CART have to reunite. There are some encouraging signs that it could happen, maybe within a couple of years. Both the IRL and CART owe it to the wonderful tradition of the Indianapolis 500 to once again provide race fans with the best race in the world.
About the Author
John Gilbert is a lifetime Minnesotan and career journalist, specializing in cars and sports during and since spending 30 years at the Minneapolis Tribune, now the Star Tribune. More recently, he has continued translating the high-tech world of autos and sharing his passionate insights as a freelance writer/photographer/broadcaster. A member of the prestigious North American Car and Truck of the Year jury since 1993. John can be heard Monday-Friday from 9-11am on 610 KDAL(www.kdal610.com) on the "John Gilbert Show," and writes a column in the Duluth Reader.
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