Post-Tryptophan Thoughts

The tryptophan from the turkey and other blissful Thanksgiving food items have finally worn off after two days. I’ll be feeling the urge to post a longer entry in the coming days as my time in California is coming to a conclusion. In the meantime, a few items on which I’d like to opine…

***

The first is Notre Dame’s win over USC this evening in a game that was decided nearly equally by Notre Dame’s great defense and USC’s anemic play calling and time and score management. I couldn’t believe my eyes as after USC chucked a 50-plus yard bomb down to the 1-yard line, and then failed to crack the end zone on several different attempts.

They were mostly run plays even though they never had a chance against the vaunted Notre Dame D, and then, as USC was down nine points and needing two scores, USC head coach Lane Kiffin inexplicably failed to take three points for a field goal attempt.

Congrats to Notre Dame. Unlike people who are vehemently on one side or another, I’ve always been fairly neutral on the Fighting Irish and feel great for their fan base and alumni that they’ll have the chance to play for a national championship. It will be fascinating to see what Alabama or Georgia will offer against the buzz saw of a defense, led by Heisman Trophy contender LB Manti Te’o.

***

This weekend, after the Thanksgiving Day festivities featuring football, family and food, marks the end of the 2012 Formula 1 season, and for that matter, the 2012 racing season. The Brazilian Grand Prix finale has the potential to be a barnburner, with Fernando Alonso 13 points back of Sebastian Vettel as each seeks their third World Championship.

I’m not a huge fan of either but Alonso’s been nothing short of a miracle worker in maximizing points out of a vastly inferior Ferrari, compared to Vettel’s usually bulletproof (save for alternator issues) and all-conquering Red Bull as perfected by master aerodynamicist Adrian Newey. With Red Bull having the Constructor’s title in hand, I’d love to see my driver of the year overhaul the gap to Vettel to score the title.

***

The other note from Brazil beyond the title chase is that it marks the end of a few eras. Notably, Michael Schumacher signs off again, and this time it’s likely to stick at age 43, after his comeback has yielded little in the way of results but allowed him three more years to compete against the new wave of F1 talent. Much respect for the seven-time World Champion, and if the projected rain delivers on Sunday, there could be one more heroic drive left in him.

HRT, too, appears set to fold with no buyer likely to acquire to its assets after Sunday’s race. Although they have failed to attract the same level of “minnow fan support” as the standard-bearing Minardi team did, they did make it onto an F1 grid in difficult economic times for three years, and provide dozens of jobs and a place for three drivers (Karun Chandhok, Bruno Senna, Daniel Ricciardo) to make their debuts. You never want to see a team fold and the impact it has is always deeper than the loss of just two cars on the grid.

Their departure, which would impact Pedro de la Rosa, would have a two-pronged effect on the changing status of the grid. Schumacher’s retirement and de la Rosa’s leaving takes away the last two drivers on the grid who raced in the 1990s – Jenson Button’s 2000 debut would be the earliest among current drivers. Schumacher, too, is the last driver born in the 1960s likely to start an F1 race.

SPEED, too, is set to air its final Grand Prix after nearly 16 years. David Hobbs and Steve Matchett are set to move to NBC but Bob Varsha is not, a shame as Varsha has long been considered the American voice of the sport. Leigh Diffey should perform well as his replacement, though, and has the rare pedigree of being both young and experienced, with unquestionable enthusiasm to match. A big thanks to all involved on SPEED’s broadcasts for their efforts in making F1 one of the few truly watchable programs on the network…

It’s going to be difficult to sleep just with having as much anticipation as I do for Sunday’s Brazilian GP. But it’ll be worth a shot. 

The evolution of change

Last Thursday was a tough day, because it marked the end of my full-time post at RACER, but not the end of my relationship with the company. I was still very fortunate to have a full season and a half in covering several different series, many on site, and it almost comes at a point that frees my mind and my work status going forward.

The way this calendar year unfolded for me really came down to three parts. There was a busy start through the month of May, the unofficial summer vacation of no travel (only the Milwaukee IndyCar race in June, the same weekend as Le Mans, was spent on the road) but still following every series, religiously, on weekends, and finally, the crescendo to the season finales in IndyCar and sports car that brought an amazing period of six weekends in seven on the road.

That last stretch took me to Sonoma, Baltimore and Fontana for IndyCar, San Diego for SCCA and Barber for Porsche, not to mention another trip back to Milwaukee but for another reason entirely that will also coincide with the date of this writing – October 26 (it would have been my grandpa’s 100th birthday, but we lost him in August).

In the last week, I was able to return to Petit Le Mans at Road Atlanta, produce what felt like an endless amount of material, and come back to the office and wrapped it all up. Thursday was when it changed. I can’t say I didn’t see it coming entirely, and my initial reaction is a mix of both frustration and relief. I didn’t want this to happen. Neither did my co-workers.

On the whole, I feel racing has now once again entered a cyclical period of uncertainty for maybe the first time in about a decade or so. In 2002 and ’03, CART teams began defecting to the IRL, while Winston ended its NASCAR sponsorship and sports car racing (Grand-Am) was about to introduce Daytona Prototypes.

With that uncertainty, entering the daunting off season winter months of 2012 into 2013, are four major areas of unrest within the entire racing industry, which all feature change.

The first is what will happen to SPEED. Nothing’s official but the question is how the channel and its associated properties will evolve as rumors have swirled all summer that it will morph into another ESPN wanna-be as FOX Sports Media Group’s “jack-of-all-trades multi-sport network,” rather than the niche TV network for car and racing enthusiasts it has been for most of its existence. That’s one domino.

Along the same lines, now that Formula 1 is off SPEED at the end of the year, onto NBC next year, is what will happen to its staff of quality crew that has made that the most redeemable motorsports viewing on TV? The booth trio of Bob Varsha, David Hobbs and Steve Matchett could make a snail parade race entertaining, and since they’ve first taken the mics, they’ve had to perform similar miracles in several utterly dull GPs (Sunday’s Indian GP was the latest). On-site pit lane reporter Will Buxton brings an infectious enthusiasm and true passion for the sport, which plays to generally positive reviews.

Both of these networks plan to implement streaming into their visual packages for 2013 and beyond (FSMG and NASCAR have a new deal in place too, with that as a big part of it) which leads to the third area of unrest – IndyCar. Look, I have loved the sport and it’s what got me hooked (OK, it was CART, but there are still some survivors from that late ‘90s era) on car racing.

After a seemingly endless barrage of negativity and rumors surrounding Randy Bernard’s future that was both amateurish and deplorable at the same time, he’s now been let go. For the first time in my years of watching, I felt the series had a CEO unafraid to make big changes to attempt to spice up the product, who didn’t hold prior grudges or agendas, made himself available to fans, was eternally available to the media, and yet was ridiculed by some people or inside sources who’d rather see his (and, to a degree, the series’) demise. He made mistakes and he wasn’t perfect, but he was far from a critical failure.

Lastly, there is the impending sports car merger for 2014 of Grand-Am and the American Le Mans Series. Some say privately it will be a NASCAR/Grand-Am takeover while the general, overriding public perceptions – and comments – seem to portray a championship that will truly take best assets of both series, blended together, and retaining a link to Le Mans and the ACO. It’s the only way for it to succeed; arrogance and egos from either side will kill a combined championship faster than whatever the class structure winds up being when it gets announced.

As my own personal news emerged regarding my future, I have to clear up a couple things. First, the ties aren’t cut between me and RACER – they’re now elastic. You have not seen the last of me there. It’s great thanks to everyone there to even take a flier on me to begin with, and were confident enough to attempt to fit me into the culture. For that, I’m eternally grateful.

Second, I’m now at a point where it would not throw me off my game one iota if I emerged from this news without being in racing full-time. I’d like to think playing the freelance and/or PR game next year could work. Basically, not being locked down to any one position frees me up to be able to pick and choose. At least that’s the plan at this stage.

Do I know what my future holds for 2013 and beyond? No. Does it faze me that I don’t know what I’m doing for the first time in ages, and that it may not be motorsports full-time, as I started a fan, then followed closer as a hobby, then found job(s) in it? A little bit.

But I do I feel this experience, at times challenging and frustrating, has been worth it? Abso-freaking-lutely. In the last 15 months, I’ve been able to learn and grow in a professional environment all while building, fostering and maintaining relationships with those in the industry. I can feel at ease in knowing I gave my best effort every single day, and the reason for the change did not come down to anything I did.

Most importantly, I can feel thankful for the people – those around me directly in the office, those I met at the races, those I exchanged 140-character bits on Twitter with (and some who have become close friends) – who have made this experience memorable, eye-opening and altogether rewarding, in ways I can’t even begin to describe.

Here’s to the future, and whatever the next change may be.

Reflecting on highs and lows

I’d originally put this together in more than 1,000 words – easy to do when fingers get on a roll – but I’ll refine it now to a few bullet points on some both exciting moments and challenging times that have come up within the last month.

The biggest low, first. My grandpa passed away only two months shy of turning 100. That meant an impromptu trip to Milwaukee for the funeral, and while seeing family and college friends was nice, you never want to do so under such circumstances. Being a pallbearer and having to give a memorial speech was very difficult. He had a wealth of great one-liners, excellent math skills, and an undying love for the Green Bay Packers – but those were the ancillary items compared to the love and unwavering support he’d provided to his family, my family, for those 99 years.

Some good highs – being back at a race track for the first time in two months. Sonoma was therapeutic in very way, shape and form, from being back to on-the-ground coverage, catching up with old friends and meeting some new ones, and was just an all-around great weekend. Baltimore was less so, given a high stress level and challenges in covering both IndyCar and ALMS, but it had its highlights from a social standpoint, too.

Another low – the aftermath of that stretch of 15 of 17 days on the road. Each of the three nights back after returning on Labor Day Monday, I’d passed out on my couch stressed and anxious about work, thinking about my grandpa and some of the other things that had happened as a result. There was a sign from above that my grandpa was looking out for me – I’d left my car door open at work while gone but nothing came of it. Then there was a thank you note from my grandma that was a gut punch, written for the first time just as “from grandma” without grandpa. They’d been married for 73 years as of this June.

A high – Alex Zanardi’s latest inspirational conquest, an amazing feat of two gold and one silver medal in his three hand cycling events at London’s Paralympics. There’s talk now he might be driving in next year’s Indianapolis 500 but that’s for another post.

A mixed high/low – the sports car merger and what could come out of it. I’ll withhold too much in the way of opinions until more details become finalized. Selfishly, I’d like to see more ALMS aspects (GT, technical rules, P2 and officials) integrated as I think it’s been the better product in recent years, but Grand-Am’s got a few key elements (marketing potential, a better TV contract) that will be good to have as well. It will be interesting to watch as this unfolds.

A low but not as serious – the Packers lost their season opener. It’s a long season and I don’t think it’s a sign of things to come, but it was a flat performance. Get a bounce back win against the Bears Thursday night and all will be right with the world.

A more serious low – Rahal Letterman Lanigan Racing’s COO Scott Roembke passed today, just 51. He was roughly half my grandpa’s age, but from those reactions I saw today, his impact was no less profound on the people he met and touched.

All of that has contributed to a whirlwind of emotions, where it’s been difficult to keep my head straight this last month. Sometimes you reach a point where, internally, you need to ask more questions about what’s truly important and trying to figure out what’s next. You don’t want a day to go by where you might not be happy or living each day to the fullest.

In the interim, it’s time to prep for Fontana and the MAVTV 500 at Auto Club Speedway this weekend, the IndyCar Series finale. We’ll see how it unfolds from here.

Oh, Canada. How I want to go to there.

It’s something I’m not proud to admit. It’s something that I’d rather not bring up unless asked. It’s especially disheartening because so many people I’ve met in racing are Canadians, and probably among the coolest people there are.

But yes, I’ve never been to Canada. Yet.

Unlike South Park (BELOW), I’m not going to blame Canada for my not ever being there, because, frankly, you people are waaaaaay too damn awesome to deserve blame for anything. This may, in fact, be an occasion where I’ll blame myself for not yet making it north of the border.

For all the domestic travel I’ve been fortunate enough to do in my years both as a fan and later as a media member in racing, and even for getting to twice go overseas to France for the 24 Hours of Le Mans, Canada has been the biggest and most obvious unchecked place on the career or personal travel checklist.

So when I see your tweets and posts about Tim Horton’s, and beer gardens, and everything else that makes Canada so great, I get jealous. It’s not because I’m avoiding you. It’s because for some reason there’s been an invisible barrier between me and your borders that I haven’t yet been able to tear down.

There were two legitimate opportunities to go growing up, and both fell through at the last minute. Here’s a brief synopsis.

In 1998, when I was 9, I had met Michel Jourdain Jr. at Long Beach – we had both stayed on the Queen Mary hotel. Jourdain, at the time, was 22, an unappreciated “backmarker” stuck driving for Payton/Coyne Racing in a very deep CART field. Still, Jourdain became my favorite driver at the time as we exchanged letters (a novelty) and emails throughout the course of the year.

Come July, about a day or two before I was to leave for a summer break trip to Milwaukee, I got a letter from his team – an all-expenses paid trip to Toronto for that year’s race (it was, as it turned out, the fourth straight race Alex Zanardi would win that year – the true “donut king”). Plans were all in motion to make the trip, even from Milwaukee.

The day before, however, a slight problem occurred. It had nothing to do with documentation. It was, in fact, a killer fever that sidelined me and put me out of commission while already out of town. The trip didn’t happen – well, one to a doctor’s office did.

Fast forward to 2009. IndyCar’s return to Toronto after a year’s hiatus could have been the perfect opportunity to make my first voyage. The stars began to align when I was notified by my then-editor, you’re covering the Toronto IndyCar race.

Slight caveat here. You’re covering it, but from home, per budgetary reasons. Again, Canadian access denied.

The Toronto ’09 race was easily the best pure coverage chance for on site, although I’d “covered” many Canadian rounds (Montreal, Mont-Tremblant, Edmonton Champ Car/IndyCar and the 2007 Canadian Grand Prix) remotely, never had the chance to get to go.

The one full year I worked as Michelin’s blogger, in 2010, I made all the ALMS rounds of the season except for, you guessed it, Canada. In this case, the Mosport race conflicted with the day before my first day of my last year of college, and the then-maligned Internet connection and, per usual, cost, were cited as detractors from making it to Mosport.

This year was the latest in “close but no cigar to Canada” as we didn’t have anyone from our RACER team on site this year, after several were there in 2011.

So, there’s that. And it appears with Edmonton and Mosport falling this weekend, and yours truly once again not in Canada, 2012 will be the latest year to pass into the record books without yet making a trip up north.

This has to be corrected in the near future, eh? 

A few random thoughts...And it's July?!?

It’s been two months since last posting an entry, and also, IT'S ALREADY JULY?!? In the interim I turned 23, and also I decided to put fingers to keyboard and chronicle a few random thoughts racing through my brain below. Nobody likes you when you’re 23 (see below). Thoughts after the jump.

“Summeritis” – The logical extension of senioritis, “Summeritis” is where you struggle with your first full summer working post-graduation. It’s not that you’re lazy, it’s just that you’re in that transitioning phase where the whole “year since graduating” timeframe has expired and now in the working world, there are no more summer vacations. I’m hoping this is a short-term deal.

Basically every summer in college, I didn’t have any regular summer jobs to come back to, but instead had racing work as an escape – freelancing for four straight years and doing some work at school on the side. It’s now moved to a point of being all-consuming instead of just an escape, and nearly a year here into my time in California, I’m still searching for the escape that temporarily breaks up the all-racing, all-the-time mindset.

HEAT – One upside of moving to California (there’s probably more, but it hasn’t been exactly all glitz and glamor, saving that for another post) is that in O.C., we’ve been fortunate to miss the massive heat wave engulfing the country at the moment. So much of the country is over 100 degrees at the moment, and yet there’s no reason to believe in global warming. Because it’s science, and we can’t have any of that…

Higgs-boson –  … and speaking of science, this discovery was made this week, and basically it’s the “God particle” that explains how mass has mass. I’m gonna be honest – I know this thing is big, but other than that last sentence, I haven’t got the slightest idea what the hell’s going on with it. Or how to explain it. But again, science.

Andy Griffith – There’s a racing tie-in for me when it comes to Andy Griffith, who passed away this week at the age of 86. My first trip to Long Beach for the grand prix (1998), my dad and I stayed on the Queen Mary, and the old TV in the room provided my first experience of The Andy Griffith Show. It was quaint, simple and down-to-earth – three qualities that would serve modern television much better in spades rather than the morass stinking up much of the American airwaves. And also, Andy’s son in the show – Opie played by then-called Ronnie Howard – has grown into the legendary director now adding racing to his repertoire. His F1 film Rush, scheduled for a 2013 release and chronicling the 1976 World Championship bout between James Hunt and Niki Lauda, has the potential to be captivating.

Really? – I was disappointed to read the other night that Steve Nash – one the few NBA players I could bring myself to legit root for, this as I used to live in Arizona – would go to the Lakers in a sign-and-trade. To me, it’s the NBA equivalent of when Brett Favre went from the Packers to the Vikings, although that occurred after a year pit stop in New York for the Jets. Still, and I get how it’s a myth that a player can stay in one city for the entirety of his career these days, but the last place you should ever go – unless you want to throw away that entire city’s fan base’s goodwill – is your most hated rival. The Lakers are that to the Suns, other than perhaps the Spurs. Late Friday a similar move happened when it was announced Ray Allen would leave the Celtics to go to the Heat, and the reverberations will be felt of that move, as well.

“Ted” – After seeing “Men in Black 3” on my birthday, and being rather underwhelmed, it was a welcome tonic seeing Seth MacFarlane’s “Ted” last weekend. Seth has pulled off the improbable and unlikely combination of a film that’s both incredibly vulgar and heartwarmingly cute at the same time. It’s also side-splittingly funny. Bottom line, for comedy fans, it’s a must see.

Busy weekend – All of Formula 1, IndyCar, ALMS, NASCAR, NHRA and their associated support series were racing this weekend, and Grand-Am is testing at Indianapolis. All of this made for a home-bound and very busy TDZ monitoring all the activity and focusing on IndyCar and ALMS coverage. Additionally, it marks a weekend not at either Toronto or Lime Rock, and either would have been fun to get to. C’est la vie.

Onward and upward from here. Out for now. Cheers.

Blogs out the wazoo

If you'll allow a brief moment of self-promotion, we've had a flurry of blogs on RACER.com within the last week, and chances are, you've probably missed one. In case you missed them, here's a recap:

Will Power: Take nothing for granted

Oriol Servia: Tying the bow on a fresh start

Bobby Rahal: Moving up for the month of May

Sage Karam: Time to speed up

Mike Hull: Keeping up with changing times

Justin Wilson: Sunshine through the rain

Dion von Moltke: Slipping and sliding in Miami

That's three IndyCar drivers (Power, Servia, Wilson), one legendary team owner (Rahal), one great team manager (Hull), and two up-and-comers from Star Mazda (Karam) and the Rolex Series (von Moltke).

Happy reading.

Living the meme dream

Long Beach was a crazy busy weekend even by my normal "crazy busy" standards, but there was one part of it that added a lighter, more humorous touch, and actually served to get through the laundry list of things to do.

It's merely two words, with a hashtag in front of it: #BlameTony.

Wednesday morning, the weather over Los Angeles county was fairly cold and overcast, cloudy, raining and a high of 62. My buddy Efrain, self-described "PR whore for hire," decided to send out a tweet saying the weather was somehow my fault.

The only logical reason I could come to was that because I've moved from Milwaukee since the last Toyota Grand Prix of Long Beach, I brought the poor weather with me. My other buddy Eversley, a.k.a Ryan Eversley, follows up to the reply with the hashtag #BlameTony.

As enough people had been in on the initial joke, #BlameTony became a theme throughout the weekend whereby anything that went wrong, this could then be used as a hashtag for it.

There are three ways to react, knowing they're using your name as the joke.

You can:

A. Be a dick and whine about it

B. Get angry and allow it to negatively affect your weekend

C. Laugh about it and embrace it

I chose option C.

The meme began to spread as I walked into the media center for the first time on Thursday, greeted not, as "Hey, Tony!" but as, "Hey, Blame Tony!"

With the joke beginning to grow legs, I went ahead and added it to several things as non-sequituirs. Some of the things I got blamed for besides the weather were rather trivial, while in contrast, the AP's Jenna Fryer had to go to a local hospital to tend to an eye injury - and Efrain added the #BlameTony to that, too. I told her about it and she was happy to put the blame on me, knowing full well we're pretty much on par in our respective levels of sarcasm.

But Friday late afternoon was when it REALLY took off. The ALMS qualifying session, held Friday the 13th for background, saw the slowest class - GTC - complete its qualifying run in the dry. Then the GT cars ran one lap as the weather shifted from sprinkling to near-Noah's Ark level downpour, and, as Efrain so poignantly put it, "you were doomed the second the skies opened up."

I actually felt for Falken's Porsche team - they would have been on the class pole having set the fastest times in both the wet morning practice and the one qualifying lap they did. I felt for ALMS PR ace Erin, who had to conduct a media press conference asking polesitters questions that were in no way related to qualifying.

Then, as Dyson Racing and overall polesitter Guy Smith walked in, my other friend John Dagys, SPEED's excellent sports car reporter (who I try to match but it's close to impossible) and I were joking with him that he needed a towel to wipe off the sweat or a water bottle to quench his thirst after he's run. Dagys added the hashtag to his tweet when he sent out his qualifying report.

The capper was Dempsey Racing, though, which tweeted from its account to #BlameTony - this to their 5,000+ followers - for the qualifying. Immediately there were about 30 or 40 tweets with the #BlameTony hashtag saying, "Hey, cool, we'll do this! But WHY? And who is this Tony?" or something to that degree.

I know Erin's weekend got better because she got to meet Packers LB Clay Matthews, the race's grand marshal, on Saturday. I know Falken's Porsche was the top finishing Porsche in the race. And I know the crap weather turned around for a great Saturday and Sunday.

Amazingly, the hashtag kept going throughout the weekend - a sampling are sprinkled throughout this post - which I found surprising but humorous. I hope those who used the hashtag got as much enjoyment out of it as I did reading them.

Regardless, the #BlameTony hashtag that spread around Long Beach - and beyond - for the Twitter world was a heck of a lot of fun, and something I'll remember for a while. At least until the next LOLCATZ or some other rather pointless but memorable meme takes off.

Out for now, cheers.

12 Days of the Surreal, Part 2: Post-Sebring

It’s only a partial pun on the 12 Hours of Sebring, but in reality, the period since March 14 until this evening has been the most surreal period for me personally and for us as a company since Las Vegas, last year. A recap of part 2 of the whirlwind is below, and here's part 1:

TUESDAY, MARCH 20

It became official Tuesday morning – RACER was no longer a subsidiary of the Haymarket Publishing empire, as it had been since 2001. Instead, the keys had been turned over to our original founder, Paul Pfanner, with other new colleagues also in play. Big, big news for us going forward.

Change can be scary, but it can also spur you to great heights – and that’s what this organization needed. I think this provides us a bit of both. We’ve been given a fresh start, set to fill a lot of holes, and begin our relaunch and rebranding for our 20th anniversary, for our next issue. Many of Mr. Pfanner’s ideas are nothing short of magnificent, and quite frankly, he was the only person suitable for this new role as the company takes on a rebirth. It's about us, though, as the people on staff, to reach those heights.

The goal for us now is making and implementing the changes we need to, and more importantly, to put it out in the market that we’re back.

FRIDAY, MARCH 23

With the shockwaves of the previous few days behind, it was off to Auto Club Speedway, formerly California Speedway, to cover the NASCAR Sprint Cup and Nationwide Series weekend.

I tweeted it a couple days ago, but honestly, sometimes it takes going to another type of an event and seeing how it runs to appreciate not having to go to it on a regular basis. While certainly, NASCAR is the 800-lb gorilla in racing, it’s not without its decline; and if someone who had never covered a race of any type before showed up at one of these things, they’d have been in for a rude awakening.

The ACS staff wasn’t the problem, as they were friendly and helpful throughout. I look forward to going back to the track for the IndyCar race in September to make sure that remains the case.

Instead, the issue I had came from was the iron hand of the sanctioning body – who implored the security guards present that, firmly, this is our house. Access is incredibly limited to both the garage and the teams and drivers, even with the right credentials. Now my only having a “cold” pit/garage pass didn’t help matters any, but the point stands – you’re not going to be given the top credential as a newcomer and it takes years of working to make it deeper in the secret garden. Poor word choice there, perhaps...

Anyway, trying to navigate and get everything done was a bit of a maze. A lot of, “You can’t go there from here,” “You can’t go here at this time, but you can go here at that time,” “You can go up this bridge but not up these stairs,” etc., etc.

Even trying to be respectful in asking of the security guards, you might be amazed at how someone gets a huge power trip once given even the slightest degree of it. At one stage I went to go back up a staircase which I had just come down not even 5 minutes earlier, but the person wanted to deny me!

There's also the issue of driver access and accessibility. Sometimes you get last minute requests for things you have to do. I've been able to get away with it in IndyCar and sports cars, but not so in NASCAR - and learning from others, sometimes requests go unfulfilled for months. Even if an answer may only require five minutes. Again, culture shock.

I get that people think because I’m young, I don’t have a clue of what I’m doing, but the fact is I’ve been working incredibly hard for the last seven years learning how to navigate tracks, get where I need to go and stay out of the way. It can be frustrating when you face the obstacles when trying to get work done.

Especially compared to the much more accessible paddocks of IndyCar and sports car, I was floored at how different and rigid a NASCAR garage and weekend operates.

One other postscript on the day – Danica Patrick’s PR rep, Haley, is about as tough as nails when trying to manage fans and also as pleasant as can be when you’re having a conversation with her. She has a thankless job and does it admirably, I think.

Danica herself? Well, my record of far-from-spotless run-ins with her continued as I was merely trying to say “hi” and ask whether it was weird not being at St. Pete. Our chat this weekend? Danica: “Hey, when did I see you last?” Me, somberly: “Vegas.” Danica: “This past Vegas or, uh, October?” Me: “October. Weird not being at St. Pete?” Danica: “Meh.”

So much for trying to get that world exclusive. At least give me a courtesy “you know,” you know?

Suffice to say I didn’t shed a tear when on Saturday her motor went Ke$haaaa (that thanks to international superstar Shane Rogers, @shagers on Twitter) and she finished 35th in her last race in her 20s, before turning 30 on Sunday.

SATURDAY, MARCH 24

Didn’t have too much time to enjoy it as had all four IndyCar-related stories on the day from St. Pete, via whatever Internet method I could, and the Nationwide recap. Plus other interviews. Typical 10-hour day.

The worst part of the day, bar none, was physically seeing Bruce Jenner’s face. Some things, you just can’t unsee. I didn't take a picture because the last thing I needed was a constant visual reminder of the world's worst stretch job.

I do have to give a shoutout – and I never thought I’d say this – to Rutledge Wood, who was actually a nice, cool guy when meeting him in person. Guessing he plays it up for TV a bit. Meeting Brad Keselowski and Matt Kenseth, albeit briefly for both, was also a highlight.

SUNDAY, MARCH 25

Never has doing nothing felt so glorious. I hoped to go to sleep, then get up early and cram in the F1 race before the IndyCar race. Plans didn’t materialize as anticipated.

The sleep part didn’t happen so instead it turned into an all-nighter watching F1 from Malaysia. Did it suck Sergio Perez didn’t win? Yes, but hopefully, the kid will have more opportunities going forward – granted, not likely in a Sauber ever again. The fact he’s F1’s first podium finisher born in the 1990s makes me feel old.

Five hours later and the IndyCar race happened. Far from the most exciting race I’d ever seen, yet for some reason, a dullish, largely clean, and most importantly, safe race was about everything I was hoping for from St. Pete. I’m not afraid to admit I lost it during the Dan tribute at the start of the show – about the best thing ABC did all day. That brought back the horror of October 16 all over again, but did so in a way that didn’t make it eery – instead, it was tasteful and tactful. Weird to say, but there you go.

I think I’ll have more thoughts later on all the opinions coming out of the day, but for now, calling it a night considering I only got a few hours of sleep. It’s been a crazy enough 12-day period, and now we head into the next week with even more to do. Sunday night ended the third day this month (March 3, 4) not traveling or in the office. Out for now, cheers.

12 Days of the Surreal, Part 1: Sebring

It’s only a partial pun on the 12 Hours of Sebring, but in reality, the period since March 14 until Sunday evening has been the most surreal period for me personally and for us as a company since Las Vegas, last year. A recap of part 1 of the whirlwind is below:

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 14

The inside joke here is that the cross country jaunt from Orange County, Calif. to Sebring, Fla. would take as long as the race itself. I called it, in a play off the official race title of: “Mobil 1 Twelve Hours of Sebring Fueled by Fresh from Florida,” the “Twelve Hours of Getting to Sebring Fueled by American Airlines.”

The flights were the easy part, going through Dallas and then landing in Orlando. No issues on the rental car, or obscene charges. Still, the issue sprouted up about 7:45 p.m. ET – about 10 hours after starting the day – in that it took nearly two hours to go some 20+ miles from one of America’s least favorite airports, MCO, to the State Route 27 connection with Interstate 4. The culprit was a massive pileup that caused a 10-mile, roughly hour-plus delay outside 27, on I-4, which shut down I-4 both directions and caused massive headache.

One of the things I get when I tell people I get to travel for a living is that, “oh, it’s so glamorous.” Well, yes, a lot of it is – but travel days such as this one are far from it – and it’s those moments that really test your patience when you’re drained, at night, in a rental car, in some remote location. I’d considered crashing at a hotel near the I-4/27 interchange but most were sold out, so the ride continued. A 12:30 a.m. ET arrival time then occurred at surprise number two of the evening, the Sebring Inn (RIGHT).

Without going into too many specifics, the easiest way to describe this place is that it makes the Motel 6 in Buttonwillow, Calif. look like the Ritz-Carlton by comparison. And, as your typical roadside, bare bones hotel available only when things are done last minute, it was what it was.

Bottom line, when all was said and done, it took longer to get to the hotel after a door-to-door journey than the race would be on Saturday.

THURSDAY, MARCH 15

The DeltaWing made its official public debut. Anything and everything else was secondary. This car has the potential to revolutionize motorsport in a way unseen by any other model or car in decades, even if people remain divided on its appearance. Certainly the night practice session was the other highlight, although a number of incidents made the day a little longer, nearly to 10 p.m. at the track.

FRIDAY, MARCH 16

I got a hot lap in a Corvette ZR1, thanks to Mobil 1. Sometimes you get one of those surreal messages in your inbox, like, “Would you be interested in a hot lap in a ZR1?” I didn’t respond back, “Do I have a pulse?” although I was tempted to.

SATURDAY, MARCH 17

Ah, race day. The joy of attempting to follow nine – nine! – classes at once while also monitoring whatever crazy stories popped up. Here’s more on the class insanity and thoughts about the politics of the thing, although I’ll touch on part of that directly in a few paragraphs.

First crazy race moment? The Team Falken Tire Porsche team, led by team manager Derrick Walker, barely even made the start. An engine issue struck the team at the tail end of the morning warm-up, and an hour and a half thrash by the crew – and constant social media updates from the team’s newly acquired PR ace Kelly – led to everyone cheering when Wolf Henzler made the grid literally at the last possible second. The German Porsche factory driver rolled to pit lane at the end of the second warm-up lap, but caught up before losing any time.

Not so lucky was a fellow German Porsche factory driver, former GT class champ Jorg Bergmeister, who was speared by Dominik Farnbacher in a Ferrari 458 right before the green flag. The Lizards were already screwed before the thing even started.

Eventually, the race ran its course, largely trouble-free although there were a few coming-togethers.

About 2 p.m., a handful of us were shuttled off to a meeting with top FIA and ACO officials. That included me, trying to not look too hideous in my one-off borrowed firesuit thanks to Dyson Racing (RIGHT).

Anyway, we got a chance to meet with a group of five led by FIA President Jean Todt. Now, the fan in me here wanted to punch him in the face for making a joke out of F1 for about half a decade in the early part of the 2000s with Ferrari and Schumacher, but my brain was able to kick in and avoid me going postal. That probably would have got me kicked out of media centers for the rest of my life, if not out of racing altogether, but I would have had a hell of a story…

As it turned out, Todt wound up in a verbal spat with a journalist who had the gall – some would say bravery or simply common sense – to question why the timing of schedule finalization was so late for several FIA World Championships. Something might have got lost in translation, but Todt basically turned the question around, claiming we should be “not criticizing, but thanking” the FIA for getting a calendar sorted so quickly. No one has ever officially accused the “A” of standing in FIA for “arrogance,” but I could have sworn I’ve seen “French Insisting on Arrogance” as one of the re-created monikers in the wake of the 2005 USGP at Indy…

Needless to say, the media briefing didn’t go quite to plan. It was a crazy moment that only has hit in magnitude several days after the fact, that about 20 of us were in a room with some of the most powerful people in motorsport and had the chance to go toe-to-toe on certain issues. It’s a chance I don’t know if I’ll ever have again.

The last bit of craziness came at the finish. The outright GT lead, I guess would be the best way to call it, came down to a battle between Joey Hand (BMW) and Olivier Beretta (Ferrari). Hand edged passed Beretta with a few minutes remaining, but on the final lap, a Ferrari which everyone thought was Beretta contacted Hand, nudging the American off the course and ending his win chances.

Not so. Hand then edged past this same Ferrari through the final corner. Turns out we were all wrong, Hand included, as to which Ferrari it was – it was actually the sister car driven by Gianmaria Bruni, more than 100 laps down.

Rather stupidly, it turns out both Hand and Beretta had won, as they had won the ALMS GT and WEC GTE Pro classes, respectively. But nobody thought of it that way, although technically that was how it was.

SUNDAY, MARCH 18

The day going back from Sebring is always a haul. You’ve usually been up til about 2 or 3 am, at least, the night before. Depending on your flight, you either can sleep in late and make your drive ahead of schedule for a mid-afternoon departure, or, if you’re stuck on an early morning one, get a brief nap in and then hit the road in pitch darkness.

Fortunately I had the former option, and a last-minute dart off I-4 onto a toll road (417) saved another near headache of backups and delays. Still, it took a little over 2 hours for the commute back.

To me, Sebring had a weirder vibe to it this year compared to the last two years. Maybe it was the late arrival at the track (Thursday versus Monday) where I felt like I was already behind, maybe it was not being able to stay at the nice hotel, maybe it was the FIA’s influence. Or maybe it was the brewing of things I’d heard in cryptic messages that bore themselves out when I resumed in the office…

What now for Italian drivers?

Maybe Jersey Shore has had more of an adverse effect on society than we all realized.

Of all the issues, controversies, unresolved contracts and other off-track racing news populating this offseason, there’s one I feel worth addressing.

It’s the quickly dissolving lack of Italian drivers in top-flight motorsport. And it’s a situation that I hope isn’t made worse by one of the most insensitive comments I’ve ever read, regardless of the fact I’m an Italian-American.

The last die cast in Formula 1 came when Jarno Trulli was jettisoned on Friday to make way for Vitaly Petrov at Caterham. Petrov’s far from inadequate and has certainly shown the chops to be a reasonable F1 driver in two seasons with Renault, now Lotus – to move to the team formerly Lotus, now Caterham. However, the undeniable reason Petrov is there is his substantial Russian backing.

Trulli gets unceremoniously dumped after a 15-year career as someone whose potential was never fully maximized in F1. On his day, Trulli was brilliant – his lone win at Monaco 2004 holding off an equally hungry (and at that time, equally winless) Jenson Button was fascinating and a refreshing interruption to Michael Schumacher’s reign of dominance that year. He had some great qualifying runs throughout his career for Toyota, Renault, Jordan and Prost, but was all too frequently beaten down by a car not suited for his style, and rendered invisible the last two seasons versus Heikki Kovalainen in equal machinery.

Still, the loss is what Trulli represents – a heritage that has spanned entirely throughout F1’s history, and one of the sport’s most iconic countries. Italy may only have two World Champions, but Italy is F1. Monza is hallowed ground – one of the races I’d most like to attend once in my life – and the tifosi exudes a passion unlike almost any other in racing. F1 has had an Italian on its grid every year going back to the '70s, save for a few instances in 1996 when gentleman driver Giovanni Lavaggi failed to qualify in another passionate Italian team, Minardi (it ain't Toro Rosso, but that's a topic for another day).

Ferrari is F1 too, and its inability to develop and foster a succession plan for young and talented Italians coming through the ranks – learning both the driving and sponsorship-gathering aspects of the game – has really been exposed. It was bad enough that in 2009, Luca Badoer and Giancarlo Fisichella went through the embarrassing seven-race saga in the worst Ferrari car in 20 years, doing damage to the likes of Italians driving Ferraris, and then were unfairly lambasted by the press (Badoer far more so).

On the North American side of the pond, there have been some opportunities for Italians to come over. While Alessandro Zanardi and Massimiliano Papis – or, as they’re better known, Alex and Max – were unheralded “F1 rejects” when they arrived in 1996 (my first year watching), they only managed to provide two of the most spell-binding moments I’ve ever witnessed in 17 years of watching motorsports.

Papis’ legendary drive at Daytona in the beautiful Ferrari 333SP prototype put his name on the map, with his chance coming under challenging circumstances in CART later that year. Zanardi, meanwhile, did this thing called “the pass” at Laguna Seca that year – I’m guessing Bryan Herta still curses it out – and my fleeting interest as a 7-year-old was cast in stone that day.

What Zanardi and Papis brought to CART in the late ‘90s was unquestionable speed, flair for the dramatic, a joie de vivre for their livelihood, and a passion and humor that resonated in the paddock and made them a hell of a lot of fans. I remember autograph sessions at Long Beach in ’98 and ’99; that while many of the lines were long, the ones for those two meant a lot more because you could just see how much they loved doing it.

On this side of the pond, we haven’t had a top-flight Italian in open-wheel racing since Papis left for greener pastures after partial seasons in 2002 and 2003.

The closest anyone’s came to getting there is Giorgio Pantano, an underrated F3000 and GP2 veteran who was tossed out of F1 after driving a geriatric Jordan chassis, and, unsurprisingly, a lack of funding.

Pantano first came over in 2005 and impressed in two road course outings for Chip Ganassi. Flash forward six years and Pantano was back, again with helmet in hand, if not deep pockets on his diminutive frame. Will Buxton was pleased. And like a duck to water, Pantano was fast.

In a Dreyer & Reinbold car, Pantano wheeled the thing damn near “best of the rest” at Infineon, finished sixth, and then got dropped to 17th after falling afoul of the blocking rule. Two races later, he set fastest lap at Japan, and we haven’t heard from him since.

This brings us to Luca Filippi, who may be in line for a seat in the 2012 IZOD IndyCar Series if he can do what few other Italians have been able to these many years – bring a paycheck to accommodate his talent. Filippi, like Pantano, has spent most of his career on the doorstep of F1, proving year after year in below average equipment he was worthy of a shot. And despite a record number of starts and a vice championship finish in this past year’s GP2 Series, no team made him an offer for him to refuse.

I’ve not met Filippi, but I’d be surprised if he was anything other than what the other three Italians are – amiable, personable, and generally enthusiastic about life. And damn quick behind the wheel of a car.

I was appalled, then, to read this comment in Robin Miller’s piece lamenting why Sarah Fisher’s all-American team, led by rookie standout Josef Newgarden, may not be on the grid:

"It’s still possible that if Luca Fillipi’s deal with Rahal for a second car doesn’t happen, then Fisher-Hartman could get Honda’s 12th engine.
…
As it stands right now, the popular Indy car loyalist whose team was the feel good story of 2011 and hired a young American star for 2012 may get to play if some Italian none of us have ever seen can’t write a check."

That, while nowhere near as bad as ESPN’s blatant racist headline describing Jeremy Lin’s first loss with the Knicks last week, is no less xenophobic. It’s a disgusting line that passes the blame on to an innocent young driver who, like anyone else, is trying to make a career out of driving in racing – and if he can’t do it in Europe, he’s trying to do it in America.

Does he forget Alex Zanardi and Max Papis were “some Italian(s) none of us ever seen?”

Full disclosure, I really like and respect Robin Miller most of the time. His passion is unquestioned. I’m thankful to have met Robin as I’ve been working on developing my own career in this industry. I’m thankful for his insights. His connections. His kind words to “this kid.” I appreciate his coverage of a sport I think kicks NASCAR’s ass.

And I love Josef Newgarden. I think he’s going to be a star in this sport – as soon as he gets an engine. He is mature beyond his years, well-spoken and articulate, and deserving of his opportunity.

It’s bad enough there aren’t enough Americans in what is this quintessentially American sport, and that’s part of Robin’s point. The fact there could only be six or seven Americans in a projected 27 or 28-car field is far from what the series should be striving for.

But Italy is a country with just as much racing history. It’s bad enough that its own economic uncertainty has wreaked havoc on its upcoming drivers gathering the necessary backing. Some of them have been able to attempt to make it into the U.S. after they were tossed out of or never given the opportunity to enter F1.

For an innocent newcomer to be blamed for someone else’s problem, that he didn’t cause, while just trying to extend his own career, is an inexcusable mistake I wish Robin wouldn’t have made.

Part of me thinks Luca Filippi should leave knowing he might be public enemy number one without ever turning a wheel. Part of me thinks his check might bounce. But another part of me wants him to come, get his money in place, and kick some ass on the racetrack.

Social media's ugly side and bad timing

Two days isn’t a lot of time in the grand scheme of things, but by social media standards, it’s an eternity. Two NFL conference championship games have since passed, bringing with them a kicker called Billy Cundiff missing a game-tying field goal and proceeding to crash Twitter’s servers, then a young wide receiver named Kyle Williams muffing one and fumbling a later punt to allow the New York Giants through to the Super Bowl.

The night before, Twitter was abuzz with the rumor that former Penn State head football coach Joe Paterno had passed. The first tweet I saw on my stream, actually, was from a former college classmate who was in no way tied to the situation or reporting of it. It read simply, “Joe Paterno has died.”

No link. No validation. No clue. Huh?

Obviously this person wasn’t the source, but it had originated from Penn State’s student newspaper, Onward State. The journalism school Poynter recaps how the misinformation got out, here, but here’s the Cliff notes version: Onward State reports it, it gets picked up by CBSSports.com, and within minutes it goes viral. An hour later, and without this having been confirmed by the family directly, they then have to deny the report.

By Sunday morning, it is later confirmed by his family that Paterno has died. So, in hindsight, the original reporting wasn’t wrong by the nature of the outcome, but it was incorrect by its timing and claim at the original time of posting. Onward State’s managing editor had resigned well by then, but the damage was done, and suddenly Onward State became known for all the wrong reasons. Poynter explains AP's stricter sourcing standards and how it didn't get dragged into the mess, here.

Two things I have to take issue with in this whole ordeal. The first is obvious: a family should, under no circumstances, have to spend the final minutes they have with their dying loved one in question having to refute an erroneous media report that said person has died. When that person passes, it should always be left to the family to make that report, and let it out when they see fit. I really don’t think I need to elaborate on that.

The second, and far greater issue as a journalism graduate and former news desk editor of my own school newspaper, is the quest to be first, rather than right, and how that quest can bite you firmly in the ass.

I don’t quite know when it happened, but somewhere along the line the quest of glory for being first and getting your name and publication out as “being first,” did, to some agencies and individuals, become more important than being right. I understand the competitive drive to want to break stories first, and frankly, the rush of digging and investigating for “the big story” is half the reason you get into journalism.

But it takes time to compile and verify those facts when dealing with a big story, get your OK from your sources, editors and fellow reporters the story is in fact, good to go, and then actually post whatever story it is you’re working on. Post it right, great – and if it’s first, then that’s a bonus in my view.

However, in the quest to make “big stories” first, if you get it wrong, you not only end up with egg on your face, smeared in every different direction; you also get the immediate and large scale vitriolic feedback from social media, who sees your every post, your every tweet, the nanosecond it leaves “enter.” And you better be damn well sure what you’re posting on there is accurate because even if you delete it, chances are at least one of your followers will have picked it up and re-tweeted it themselves.

Sports-wise, this has happened in Indianapolis with the Colts pulling a 180 on their local media and firing their head coach, Jim Caldwell, after it was hinted he would stay. Bob Kravitz of the Indianapolis Star explains here. In my direct world of covering motorsports in what’s been a very frantic offseason, there’s been a couple instances when reporters of opposing sites have rushed to post stories without the team, driver, manufacturer or series giving the OK. By the time the right entity posts something, they’re the last one to do so, and it looks bad on them that they’re reporting something “officially” that has been rumored for weeks and either leaked or written by someone who might have broken the embargo (wait, embargoes still exist? )

Those examples, of course, pale in scale to the Paterno outbreak on Saturday night. But the principle is the same. By trying to jump the gun in the name of the scoop, and refusing to let the right entity make the announcement on their own, you wind up risking your name and your publication for the sake of maybe five or 10 minutes. The only glory you get from being first, if you’re right, is being first on Google’s search listings for timestamps. Obviously this weekend, we’ve seen what can happen when you get it wrong.

Being right can mean keeping things in the dark. Since I started my new job in August, I’ve had to withhold sensitive and very key bits of information without posting it. But I respected my sources and respected the entities who gave that to me, and I know that two-way trust street will pay dividends going forward for both me personally, and my organization that I represent.

I certainly have embraced social media, as evidenced by my self-deprecating discussion of how I went from hater to addict on Twitter. I think Twitter can be great for news and networking. But it must be treated with care.

I can’t say it any clearer than this: to me, it is far more important to be right rather than first. I will always work to wait that if I’m not the person entrusted with breaking the news, that the right entity does so and I will let them do just that. It’s something I learned and have worked to implement into my career.

***

Another quick thought …

I’m glad I didn’t have a dog in the fight of the respective AFC and NFC Championship games this weekend, which were both fairly exciting. My Green Bay Packers got knocked out last week, putting the kibosh on a 15-1 season but one where the defense had more holes than a good slice of Swiss. Either way, I felt for both Cundiff and Williams in the aftermath, and wish people would look at it as just a game – which it is – and remove the ludicrous death threats or outrageous reactions. If you want to get mad at people, look at the ones who risked things on Wall Street and drove the economy off a cliff in 2008 …

Out for now, cheers. Off to Daytona on Wednesday for my first Rolex 24, and first visit to Daytona International Speedway.

An unrealistic dream

The racing offseason is funny, because every single press release you read is littered with unfiltered optimism, unbridled enthusiasm and an unnecessary amount of spin. That’s what they’re for – to give the impression that driver X, Y or Z is going to “deliver a championship by the pursuit of great race results and maximum exposure and return on investment for sponsors.” Or something of that ilk.

You can’t fault teams, drivers, sponsors or the PR reps for putting together releases in that way. That’s their job. But just once, I’d like to see someone rebel – the closest to irreverent, off-the-cuff releases come from Magnus Racing (which, unsurprisingly, represent the press releases I actually WANT to read instead of slog through thinking how I can rewrite it into a news story) – and create a press release that more accurately describes how driver X got the ride.

This is mostly tongue-in-cheek, but here’s what I’d like to see, just once, in a driver/team announcement press release:

Driver Y brings fattest check, gets seat at Team X

“Well, Team X is announcing Driver Y because frankly, he/she brought the biggest check. It’s not easy to hold back the fact we wanted to announce Driver Z, because he/she actually has the most talent, but we can’t afford to pay him/her and they didn’t want to take a pay cut. Which, to be honest, is totally understandable. Why should drivers have to pay for the privilege of driving when talent should be the ultimate judge of who gets a seat and who doesn’t?

Anyway, that aside, we’re more than happy to take Driver Y’s check, and we really hope that with the right amount of coaching, development, engineering assistance and a little bit of luck, that he/she will be more than a bottom feeder just taking up space and blocking Driver Z, who will probably be lapping them as of lap 7.

We feel Driver Y has the potential to grow – because he/she is woefully out of depth for this series and is only here because of the check they bring. But we anticipate that they will do a great job shilling for the sponsor they bring, will engage their clients (I mean, because who doesn’t know Pay By Touch, Grafiprint or 42 Below?) and maybe, just maybe, will get noticed by one media type who pays attention to his/her development over the course of the season.

“I’m really ecstatic that Team X took my check,” Driver Y said. “When you’re negotiating with teams, certain teams want you to bring a certain amount of money, some greater than others. But I feel that working together, with my check and this team’s potential to improve, we can deliver some results that won’t embarrass either of us.”

“Driver Y doesn’t have the talent of a Driver Z, but he/she does have the potential to grow, and we know Driver Y can do so as long as they keep filling our pockets so we can go racing,” Team X owner said. “We’re not going to be championship contenders. We’ll be lucky to score a top-five. But we know we can end the year better than we are starting, because we’re starting from a place that no one wants to be – stone last with a talentless paydriver. It’s one thing to have a paydriver with talent, but we’re not at that stage yet. We hope that with Driver Y’s improvement this year, we can manage to hire a paydriver with talent next year in a second car.”

We know you’re probably unlikely to read this, but we hope our honesty in our team’s approach continues to entice you going forward. Thanks for slogging along through this press release, and we are kindly available for any media inquiries.