Bob Jennings

Finally it's cooled off after another batch of days in the nineties a few days ago. We're coming up on the third week of September. The local TV weather people tell us we had something like forty days with temperatures in excess of ninety degrees this year and it's been the most hot, dry season in these parts since summer 1991. 

I remember summer 1991, just before I returned to Chicagoland for a job in mid September, miserable days of love lost, broken relationships, despair, loneliness, second guessing and uncertainty for the future. There were July nights in 1991 when the wind would blow at 7 PM, with the temperature still past 90, and it felt like a blast furnace when I came out of work. Summer 2002 has been another of those very hot, dry seasons in central Indiana. One look at the sickly corn crop, so important to Indiana's prosperity, somehow symbolizes the summer of my 56th year. 

It was too cold and wet for farmers to plant crops until almost mid June and then once planting was completed, "Mother Nature" forgot about rain for so long the grass quit growing and lawns in front of the homes of local residents became barren and dusty. 

This summer's uncomfortable weather has epitomized the quality of life in Indiana and for that matter the entire United States over the past 18 months. We've had a faltering economy made much worse by the "911" terrorist attacks, combined with greed and dishonesty from the upper management thieves at places like Enron and WorldCom. Hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of people have lost their jobs and futility and fear, rather than hope and confidence, are the prevailing emotions across our land as I write these words. 

The weekend of the ninth annual "Brickyard 400," at the beginning of August 2002, was the hottest weekend thus far. As I drove north on Guilford (it used to be College) Avenue towards West Main Street in Carmel, Indiana, on Saturday August 3, I glanced at the horizon to my left. "Old Mr. Sun" looked like a huge fiery day glow red ball as it dropped in the early evening Western sky. 

I was on my way to the Carmel, Indiana post of the American Legion. My long time buddy John Dailey was back in town for a few days. I had been trying to persuade John to come back for the "Indianapolis 500" every May since his last trip to the "500" in 1993, to no avail. Yet John showed up, all of the sudden, for the "Brickyard 400" and he didn't even go to the Indianapolis Motor Speedway for the race.

John came to Indianapolis with a couple buddies from his current home town Phoenix late Wednesday. However we didn't meet up until Friday evening, when I saw him after getting off work. John and I proceeded to catch up on things Friday night, as we drank at the Carmel Old Town Tavern in the town's historic business district (although there isn't much business being conducted in Old Town Carmel on West Main Street these days) before moving to the American Legion post where John is a long standing member. After watching the NASCAR Craftsman Truck Series race at Indianapolis Raceway Park on the Legion's large screen TV and knocking down four or five "shots" of whiskey on Friday night, I felt bad all day Saturday and was slow getting started while I watched television coverage of qualifications for the next day's running of the "Brickyard 400." 

John went to the Legion around mid day Saturday, armed with all the ingredients to cook New Mexico style chili for his fellow legionnaires. By the time I got there, John was well on the way to a Coors Light buzz, feeling no pain and laughing in the same way he had since we first met at the start of the 1962 school year at Carmel High School. 

John Dailey is the "captive audience" for Bob Jennings' World O' Racing. The observations and memories I come up with got their start as hand written letters on yellow legal pads to John when he served in the U.S. Navy 35 years ago. When I compose my offerings, I often write them with John Dailey in mind.      

Why does John Dailey remain my captive audience? It's likely because he and I have been talking racing since 1962, whether we were chasing deadbeats for Chrysler Credit Corporation where John worked after his Navy tour completed, going to Michigan International Speedway and the Milwaukee Mile in 1971 for initial visits to each track, freezing in the mid April wind at Winchester Speedway while watching a USAC Sprint race together in 1975, trying to amuse myself by looking at whiskey bottles which were shaped and painted to look like Al Unser's Johnny Lightning Specials in a Carmel bar while John played pinball, picking him up at the Indianapolis airport in those years when he made an infrequent visit to see the "Indianapolis 500," flying to Phoenix to visit John and watch Nigel Mansell do his first race on an oval in 1993, talking on the phone after an Indy Racing League event or going to the post office to mail a package containing recent material published on this website to John, since he still hasn't purchased a computer, my old pal is a continuing source of inspiration as I spin my tales of things motorsport.  

John left the Carmel, Indianapolis area for good in late 1975, going to (I believe in the following order) Cedar Rapids, Iowa, Oklahoma City, Albuquerque, Phoenix, Gallup, New Mexico and then back to metro Phoenix. Along the way, he was the head marketing "honcho" for a couple credit life insurance companies, before taking the entrepreneurial route and creating and nurturing three successful truck conversion - after market stores.

I got so drunk on (I was probably drinking "sleu gin" or cherry flavored vodka) New Years Eve 1964, when I was a senior at Carmel High School, at an underage party in Fishers, Indiana (like Carmel, now another hustling bustling Hamilton County component in the metro Indy package but a still a sleepy crossroads village on December 31, 1964), I later fell through the plate glass window of a Phillips 66 station where Range Line Road meets Meridian Street on the north edge of Carmel. Who was with me at the time - John Dailey?

John Dailey is a natural born salesman. A facet of our relationship developed that featured John often trying to talk me into doing different things with him. Frequently John's ideas weren't especially appealing to me, but I usually ended up giving in and most times enjoying myself in the process and looking back on those adventures fondly. 

Who talked me into helping unload a railroad car filled with 50 pound bags of dog food on a sub zero January 1965 night, in the old New Augusta neighborhood on the northwest side of Indianapolis? You guessed it - John Dailey. I was skinny in 1965. Carrying bags of Jim Dandy dog food with the temperatures down to about ten degrees below zero nearly killed yours truly. I think I stayed out sick from school for the next two days.

Who talked me into driving to Springfield, Illinois just two days before the 1965 "Indianapolis 500" to pick up a high school buddy? John Dailey. I absolutely knew the 1965 "500" was going to result in Jim Clark's victory in what was going to be the greatest race of my life. Things were promising. I had just graduated from Carmel High School. I had a girlfriend - sort of - named Sheri. Unfortunately, but not surprisingly, I was but one of Sheri's many boyfriends. Jim Clark's "500" win was imminent in my mind. The last thing I wanted to do was leave the Indianapolis area with the "500" only 48 hours away, in a 1955 Chevrolet, traveling across a "two lane blacktop" bordered on both sides by corn fields, so John Dailey could pick up his pal for the "500" on Monday. But John talked me into going. 

I was never so glad to get back home to Carmel anytime in my life as I was late on Saturday May 29, 1965. I was certain John and I would end up along some central Illinois highway, with that two tone green 1955 Chevy sitting dead, and I would have to get to a phone so I could call my father, with whom relations weren't too good at the time, and beg him to drive 150 miles west to pick me up so I could get back home for Jim Clark's win in the 1965 "Indianapolis 500."  

However it all worked out. I was there on Monday May 31, 1965, at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway for my tenth "Indianapolis 500," while the "Flying Scot" Jim Clark swept the field in number 82, the beautiful "British racing" dark green Lotus Powered by Ford with the pale yellow stripe, to win in unmistakable and supreme fashion.  

My head is filled with a thousand John Dailey memories. A lot of them don't necessarily involve racing. 

Whenever I hear the Beatles "I Feel Fine," the Righteous Brother's "You've Lost That lovin' feelin. Oh that lovin' feelin'," Petula Clark's "Downtown" or "who wants to buy this diamond ring" by Gary Lewis & the Playboys, I recall riding with John through the snow covered streets of Northside Indianapolis in Winter 1965, listening to those records being played on WIBC and WIFE "lucky 13," and going to visit John's older brother Larry, who was a medical student at Indiana University and lived over a carriage house behind an old mansion about 3500 north on Washington Boulevard. I was feeling pretty hopeless at the time. My dad was having a lot of problems and that was shaking the foundation of my family. I was trying to get through my senior year at Carmel High School and into college, while Lyndon B. Johnson was digging a deeper hole in Vietnam for guys like me. But John was there, trying to give me something other than trouble to think about.

When I hear Tammy Wynette's Stand by Your Man," I think about a night in late May, 1969, a few days before the "Indianapolis 500." John and I drank in a dive on Kentucky Avenue, south of downtown Indianapolis. He was on a short leave from the Navy, in town for a few days, and we were making the most of it before he hit the highway for Minneapolis to visit his parents. 

There probably weren't five people in that old beer joint and it was something completely new to me as one Country - Western record after another played on the jukebox; George Jones, Johnny Cash, Merle Haggard and Tammy (what a set!) singing their sad stories while I drank one can after another of Stroh's beer.   

John camped out at my parent's apartment on East 62nd Street (I was staying at home then) after our binge. I had to go to work early the next morning and felt like hell with one of those pounding headaches combined with the sour taste of stale beer to make me feel miserable. When I called the apartment and John answered, I chanted Tammy (and her beautiful twins) Wynette's lyrics "stand by your man." John's hung over response was "do you think you're funny or what? Cut out that crap. My head hurts."     

I think of summer 1970 and I recall an overcast, cool Sunday afternoon in June when John and I drove to Union City, Indiana. John was after a guy who was two or three payments behind on his Dodge truck or something like that. Earlier we had watched the USAC Indy car race at Langhorne on TV at a house where some girl who John knew lived with her parents. 

My all time favorite racer Al Unser was having the racing season of his life in 1970 and fresh off his first "Indianapolis 500" win. But big brother Bobby in a three year old Leader Card Racers Eagle - Offy, prepared by Jud Phillips, passed Al for the lead with nine laps remaining at Langhorne, to win. John Dailey was a Bobby Unser fan in those days, although he was in the process of switching to Johnny Rutherford. John Dailey liked the turbo Offy while I was a Ford guy all the way. So John gave me a hard time about the Langhorne race. Even though Al was winning everything else in sight in 1970, I was still  pissed off and disappointed. In 1970, Al Unser was as close to being unbeatable and losing was the exception rather than the rule.   

John was just out of the Navy in summer 1970, living with brother Larry about 3300 north on Meridian Street. Before we took off for Union City, we grabbed Larry's bottle of Kessler Whiskey and I proceeded to do a number on that "rot gut." I think I passed out later (I was going through my wild period) and I was plenty drunk when we got to the deadbeat's house.     

John cautioned me to be cool while he talked to the guy who owed the money. He was trying to get into his serious debt collector demeanor. But I couldn't help it. I was full of the devil. I lowered the window on John's deep metallic blue 1970 Plymouth Fury (with a black vinyl roof - remember them?), stuck my head out and looked straight at him, bursting into hysterical laughter with my chin vibrating in uncontrollable spasms. 

John tried to avoid my hilarity and kept shaking his head no and making "be cool" signs with his hands. But the demon inside me wasn't to be denied. By the time the guy came to the door, John was damn near as hysterical as I was. When he came back to the car, John was still laughing but also mad as hell at me as he growled "Jennings you son of a bitch. How could I scare that guy into making his payments while I was laughing like an idiot?"

It was Friday August 9, 1974. I was living in Battle Creek, Michigan and hating every minute of it. I took a vacation day to drive to Indianapolis for the weekend. That was the day Richard Nixon resigned the presidency. I hung around my place in Battle Creek in the morning to watch TV, the swearing in of Gerald Ford, Nixon's departure from Washington D.C. and all that occurred during the earlier hours of  that historic day. 

I felt sad. Although I gave up on him in Spring 1973 during the Erwin committee hearings in the U.S. Senate on the Watergate scandal, Nixon had once been my political hero. So there was a terrific sense of letdown as I motored south on Interstate 69 in my white 1974 MG B roadster past Auburn, Indiana. But the sun was shining and I was full of anticipation. I had a weekend in Indianapolis and John Dailey was back in town to live, as an agent for one of the credit life companies where he was so successful.

On Friday May 27, 1978, two nights before the "Indianapolis 500," John Dailey came into town from Albuquerque for one of his infrequent trips to the "500." Later that night under starry skies in the wooded property around the house where one of John buddies Steve Statzer lived, he played an audio tape he had made while at the early season USAC Indy car race in Phoenix. On the tape, John was heard to be talking to Al Unser and telling Al about me, his biggest fan.

Two days later, Big Al drove Jim Hall's First National City Chaparral Lola - Cosworth (my favorite Al Unser car) to his third "500" victory. Unser would also win the other two Indy car 500 mile events at Pocono and California's Ontario Motor Speedway to become the only driver in history to accomplish that feat. Throughout that glorious "Indianapolis 500" weekend, John Dailey was on hand to add his brand of "small town, on the road, no one is a stranger" sense of adventure to the proceedings. 

I could go on and on with my favorite John Dailey memories but I think you get the idea of how important this guy is to me. When I think about he and I, a vision comes to mind of two men, still in their twenties, driving down a Hamilton County Indiana highway together, talking about John's adventures and acquaintances, mixed in with endless racing chatter.    

Carmel, Indiana was a part of my life as early as I can remember. Some time in the early 1940's, my maternal grandparents Charles and Ruby Yount moved from the Irvington neighborhood on the east side of Indianapolis, to a white frame house that sat on several acres of woods and meadows at the south edge of what was then the Carmel city limits, on what is now called 126th Street but used to be known as Mohawk Road.

Carmel was originally called Bethlehem and began as a Quaker farming community in the Indiana wilderness sometime after 1830. According to lore, there was another Indiana settlement with the same name. So the small farming settlement 15 miles north of the larger Indiana community Indianapolis became Carmel. When my awareness of Carmel began, it was still an unincorporated village and many of the residents of the area had names like Hinshaw, Moffitt and Kinser. There was an even a town blacksmith where my grandfather and uncle Joe, who lived nearby at one time, had their horses shod. 

The community was a far cry in those days from the bustling, trendy emerging suburban city it is today - the crown jewel of the north side of the metropolitan area. Although it was even then a bedroom community for Indianapolis and beginning to grow in population, when I moved into a new brick home in August 1957, on a plot of land just east of my grandparents' house with my parents and sister, Carmel was still a typical sleepy little town, sort of a somewhat faster paced Hoosier version of Sheriff Andy's Mayberry. 

For years, until I moved back to Indianapolis in September 1998, about the only time I went to Carmel was when John Dailey came back for the "Indianapolis 500." If I wanted to be with John, I had to be prepared to drink beer (Budweiser, Miller and Coors only - no Heinekens) at the American Legion post or the Carmel VFW where John was also a member. I would usually spot people from my youth, who I hadn't seen for so many years I could barely remember who they were despite the vague familiarity of their faces.

A throw back to the days when the Indianapolis 500" was like an annual ritual across the Indiana landscape takes place on the eve of each "500" at the Carmel American Legion post. The Legion conducts a "500" pool in which members bid on each of the 33 drivers in the race. I believe John Dailey bid on "500" winners Al Unser in 1987 and Emerson Fittipaldi in 1993, during race eve auctions at the Legion, which basically paid for both of those trips to Indianapolis.

Although I was keeping close company with John during those earlier trips, I had yet to actually witness the "Indianapolis 500" bidding at the American Legion. So I was in for an experience on the eve of the ninth annual "Brickyard 400" and the August auction.   

About 8 PM, the auction got underway. By that time, John was carrying even more fuel (ala Coors Light). He was primed and ready to show the Carmel folks a thing or two about how to bid on race winners. However in the years since John had made his previous race eve auction appearance at the  Legion, the price to play had gone up and it caught my pal by surprise.  

While John was taken off guard by the bidding price for the 43 drivers in the "Brickyard 400" field, the thing that got to me was the zeal with which the legionnaires put their money down for the right to play based on the fortunes of the NASCAR drivers. It was one of the craziest damn things I ever witnessed. 

I also wondered what the bidding had been like for the 2002 "Indianapolis 500" auction. A veteran legion member told me after the auction the stakes had been higher in May, but I wondered about the accuracy of his recollections. This was a big deal and these Hoosiers seemed very excited about the "Brickyard 400." Were they as excited about the "Indianapolis 500" or had NASCAR won another battle over Indy cars, this time with the old timers in Carmel, Indiana 46032? 

Many of these people were even more ancient than me, some looking to be well into their sixties and seventies. However these "seniors" were throwing money at the auctioneer in ferocious bidding dogfights, perhaps more intense than the battle for race positions that took place the following day at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. The old timers put up their dukes, so to speak, and fought for various drivers like they might've fought over who had the fastest car in the days of their youth . 

I kept a record of the bidding while John kept nudging me to alert me to his next move. "Watch this," he would say throughout the auction, "you're gonna see something."

Carmel American Legion post "Brickyard 400" auction according to my notes

My tally isn't exactly accurate because my auction totals exceed the $10,210 that was bid. Sometimes it was hard to hear the auctioneer. The payoff was organized as follows: $4,004 - winner, $3,003 - second place, $2,002 - third place, $1,001 - fourth place, $50 - tenth place, $50 - twentieth place, $50 - thirtieth place, $50 - fortieth place. But you get the idea. That's quite a haul and the bidders who held the pool chances with drivers finishing in the top four places all stood to make a nice profit, regardless of their bids.  

Other than an occasional friendly card game among pals, I have never been keen on gambling, let alone wagering on a racing event with all the variables and unknowns. But the legionnaires obviously didn't concern themselves with the unknowns of racing. I left the Legion about 11 PM not quite believing what I'd seen. However I couldn't quite determine whether these folks were NASCAR fanatics or they just loved to gamble.  

In case his wife reads this piece, I won't reveal the amount of John's bid or which driver(s) he spent his money on. Let's just say he didn't fare well. 

About 11 PM Saturday, I called my wife and she wanted me to come home and after too many whiskeys and beers, it was time. I suggested John sleep at my place, rather than try to drive back to the west side Indianapolis motel where he was staying. He had consumed quite a few. He said he would come but he never showed up at my place.    

I liked it better when they started the "Brickyard 400" on Saturday at 12 PM, as they did for the first seven runnings of the race. The schedule was changed for the 2001 race by NBC to a 1:50 PM start time on Sunday. There were a few times after I awoke Sunday morning when I considered joining John Dailey at the "Brickyard 400" party at the American Legion. 

The forecast was for temperatures as high as 98 degrees with high humidity. I didn't have a ticket for the race. The 1995 and 2001 events were the only times I had a ticket for the "Brickyard 400" before race day. I really don't get that big a buzz from NASCAR. At the same time, I haven't missed a "Brickyard 400" yet and in reality, there was no way I was going to miss going to the race this time either. So I swam before I left home at 12:30 PM, covered myself with SPF 30 sun block, dressed as light as I could, drank a lot of water and headed for the Indianapolis Motor Speedway in a relaxed way.

I decided I would be willing to even miss the opening laps of the race to get a cheap price on a ticket. The streets around the Speedway were empty about 1 PM. I parked for free in a mostly empty lot on Tenth Street, just west of Holt Road. I decided with the heat, I didn't want to do the long walk into the track from the north. 

Outside the Speedway main gate on 16th Street I came across a bunch of "scalpers" with tickets. One of them had seats high in the Southwest Vista for $75.00. I liked my seats last August in the same grandstand, so I offered $40.00. The "broker" sort of mumbled something and I told him I'd wait until the race was ten laps old and then offer him $20.00. Since there weren't any other customers and the race was starting in 30 minutes, he shrugged and accepted my offer. After closely examining his ticket for authenticity, since there had been reports of counterfeit tickets being sold, I walked into the track.    

It had been so hot at the 2001 "Brickyard 400," there was a constant movement of people up and down the aisle steps in the Southeast Vista where I was sitting with my wife and friend Bill Correll. People preferred to seek shade under the grandstands rather than watch the race. However it had only been 92 degrees last year during the eighth "Brickyard 400." The forecast called for temperatures as high as 98 this time.  

My pre-race swim had helped. I devoured a couple bratwursts (pretty good actually), purchased a large bottle of water and walked to my seat. The view from my seat was pretty good. There was a slight breeze blowing high in the Southeast Vista which alleviated some of the expected discomfort. The humidity was less than what had been forecast. But I was still sweating so much the sun block was melting on my forehead and stinging my eyes.   

I probably felt more enthusiasm about this "Brickyard 400" than any of the other eight NASCAR races at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. I was excited about Tony Stewart's prospects after he qualified for the pole the previous day. This seemed like a good time for Tony to win at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway and that built my anticipation for the start of the race. I also felt that another of my racing favorites Ryan Newman was on the verge of his first Winston Cup victory and in good shape for the race after qualifying fifth. 

However Bill Elliott looked to me like the guy with the most potential. I had been at Michigan International Speedway the previous Sunday to see Tomas Scheckter get his first Indy Racing League win.  So I didn't get to listen to or watch Elliott's Winston Cup victory at Pocono. However given the similarities between the Indianapolis Motor Speedway and Pocono International Raceway, the possibility of Ray Evernham's red number 9 Dodge Intrepid winning two weeks in a row seemed real to me.

John Dailey was optimistic Tony Stewart was going to win at the Speedway, on a track made very slippery by the intense heat. However during the auction at the American Legion John bid on a different driver. When he bid on "driver X," I tried to persuade John to wait for Bill Elliott but John was revved up and didn't want to wait. 

When the green flag was waved to start the ninth "Brickyard 400," Stewart jumped into the lead with Elliott and Dale Earnhardt Jr. following Tony into turn one. During the early laps, Stewart was able to maintain a slight margin on the red number 9 car. In the meantime, Rusty Wallace moved through the field quickly. During the first five laps, Wallace advanced twelve places from 35th grid position. Dale Jarrett was on the move too, passing nine cars in the first eight laps, after starting 17th. Todd Bodine also came forward, moving into eleventh from 20th on the starting grid. 

After ten laps, the order of the leaders was Stewart, Elliott, Mark Martin, Kenny Wallace, Ryan Newman, Robby Gordon, Kevin Harvick, Jarrett, Steve Park and Todd Bodine. Elliott made two attempts to get by Stewart on lap eleven. The first try came when Bill dropped inside Tony going down the backstretch but the 20 car stayed in front entering turn three. Elliott tried again into turn four but Stewart held him off once more.

The following lap Brett Bodine and Mike Wallace crashed coming off turn two, bringing out the yellow flag. Wallace became the first NASCAR driver to hit the SAFER barrier at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. On lap 12, Stewart, Elliott, Robby Gordon, Newman, Martin, Mayfield, Jarrett and Todd Bodine all made stops under caution. During the rush out of the pits, Johnny Benson and Jeremy Mayfield hit each other and Johnny's Valvoline Pontiac received some damage. 

By lap 25, Jeff Gordon had moved from 21st on the grid to seventh. Matt Kenseth was running eighth, coming from 18th on the grid. The order of the top ten after 30 laps was Stewart, Elliott, Newman, Robby Gordon, Martin, Jeff Gordon, Kenseth, Park, Harvick and Sterling Marlin. Earnhardt Jr. was troubled with a push on the Budweiser car 8 and dropped to 22nd.  

Jeff Gordon passed Mark Martin to move into fifth on lap 34. Going into turn three on the next lap, Jimmy Spencer gave Kurt Busch a tap on the left rear corner of car 97. That sent Busch's car into the SAFER barrier on the left side of the Rubbermaid Ford. This brought on another rush to the pits under the yellow flag.

Although they both had 16 second pit stops, Elliott beat Stewart out of the pits. When the green flag waved on lap 43, Bill led Tony, Newman, Robby Gordon and Harvick. For the next several laps, the red Dodge number 9 ran in front of the orange, black and white Home Depot Pontiac number 20 by a few car lengths. Robby Gordon's car 31 was working good with the Speedway track temperatures reaching 138 degrees. Within three laps of the restart, Robby passed five cars on the way to fourth place. Rusty Wallace continued his climb to the front and ran eleventh on lap 50.

On lap 51, Geoffrey Bodine hit the SAFER barrier hard exiting turn one and then the car slid across the track to hit the inside wall. Nearly every one came into the pits the following lap under yellow. When the race restarted on lap 56, Elliott led Stewart, Kenseth, Jeff Burton and Martin.

Evidently my "vendor" held many of the race tickets in the area I where I was sitting, because there were a bunch of empty seats around me. That was nice because I didn't have to feel like I was in a sardine can like I usually do at the "Brickyard 400." I'm not really a grandstand guy and I would've gladly traded my Southeast Vista ticket for a place on the spectator mounds across from where I was sitting. I wish the Speedway sold general admission tickets for the "Brickyard 400."

Apparently the heat was keeping people away from the ninth "Brickyard 400" because when I watched a replay of the TV coverage on NBC, I saw other empty seats scattered around the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. During the NBC telecast, they kept referring to a crowd in excess of 275,000 people. Nearly everyone knows there are more than 300,000 reserved seats at the Speedway which means if there were only "more than 275,000" at the race as NBC reported, there were quite a few empty seats. Perhaps the economy is beginning to affect NASCAR crowds the way it's affecting so many other areas of life in 2002.

I'm not embarrassed to admit the fact there were significantly fewer people attending the ninth "Brickyard 400" than were at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway on May 26 for the 86th "Indianapolis 500" pleases me. I can still recall some of the talk going around a few years ago that the NASCAR race had surpassed the "500" in popularity and enthusiasm and that notion bothered me a lot but it doesn't appear to be the case any more if it ever was the case.

Obviously the "Brickyard 400" still plays to NASCAR's largest crowd by thousands of people and I want that to always be the case. But I don't want a challenge to the supremacy of the "Indianapolis 500" in any way, shape or form.  

Elliott began to assert his superiority over the next several laps. Although it doesn't look like any Dodge Intrepid I've seen on the highway, Bill's number 9 looks pretty good in the photo on this page. Actually the NASCAR Intrepids have an appearance that more closely resembles the two door Dodge Stratus. 

The conservative red color scheme with white numbers and lettering sets off the Evernham Motorsports entry from every other car on the track, including the other Evernham Intrepid, number 19 driven by Jeremy Mayfield. Elliott's plain red number 9 is a sharp contrast from most of the gaudy "Mattel Hot Wheels" paint jobs on many of the other prominent Winston Cup cars. The Dodge Dealers/UAW car suits Bill Elliott's current "crafty veteran" style well just like the old Coors number 9 Thunderbirds used to symbolize the glory days of "Awesome Bill from Dawsonville."

The next yellow came out on lap 70, this time for debris. As per the usual situation, the field hurried to the pits again. This time Stewart beat the pack out of the pits and Tony led the field to green on lap 73. The Home Depot Pontiac number 20 was followed by Robby Gordon, NASCAR points leader Sterling Marlin, Dave Blaney and Elliott, back in fifth place.

However it didn't take Elliott long to charge to the front. Bill moved to second by lap 77. On the next lap he overtook Stewart for the lead going into turn three. I believe this was the moment when Bill Elliott undisputably grabbed control of the ninth "Brickyard 400." Prior to this time Elliott had gotten the lead coming out of the pits but now Bill raced into first on the race track. 

The yellow flag came out at the lap 80 halfway point of the race for Jeremy Mayfield, whose Evernham Motorsports Intrepid number 19 was trailing smoke. Some drivers chose to pit, while they had the opportunity under caution. When the green flag waved on lap 85, the order of the leaders was Elliott, Stewart, Robby Gordon, Newman, Todd Bodine, Ricky Craven, Kenseth, Jarrett, Martin and Harvick. On lap 90, the top ten drivers in order were Elliott, Stewart, Robby Gordon, Newman, Todd Bodine, Martin, Kenseth, Jarrett, Jeff Burton and Craven. Elliott began pulling away from the field and led second place Stewart by 3.74 seconds on lap 91.   

Casey Atwood hit the SAFER barrier between the first and second turn after being tapped by Ricky Rudd. The yellow flag came out again and there was a rush to the pits by the leaders. Elliott made it out first and Bill led the restart on lap 105, followed by Jeff Gordon, Martin, Newman, Robby Gordon, Stewart, Craven, Jarrett, Jeff Burton and Kenseth. By lap 108, Elliott pulled out a 1.8 second lead on the second place DuPont car 24.

Dale Jarrett had the UPS car 88 flying and on lap 111 he passed Jeff Gordon on the inside, going down the backstretch, to move into second place. By the time the defending Winston Cup and "Brickyard 400" champion came to the line on lap 111, Gordon had fallen to fourth after being passed by Mark Martin. All the jockeying for position behind him enabled Elliott to pull away. By lap 112, Bill had a four second lead on his closest pursuer Jarrett.   

Dale Jarrett is a popular racer with many fans and there was a stirring in the crowd. A slight buzz came from what had been a subdued (probably the heat) gathering to that point. Everyone was sweating too much to cheer I guess but they became excited about the 1996 and 1999 "Brickyard 400" winner's charge. However Jarrett didn't appear to have much for Bill Elliott. Over the next fourteen laps in which Jarrett tried to catch Elliott, Dale could get no closer than four seconds.  

On lap 127, Elliott Sadler brushed the wall in the south chute, bringing out the yellow again. As expected, there was a rush to the pits for what would likely be the final series of pit stops. The Yates 88 crew had some problems when Jarrett stopped. Dale didn't get all his fuel and the catch can was stuck in its opening as the UPS Taurus pulled away. The "faux paux" by Todd Parrott's guys cost Jarrett any chance of a top five finish. On lap 30, the white and brown car 88 came in to serve a stop and go penalty, getting two fresh tires and more fuel in the process. 

Mark Martin won the dash out of the pits and led the pack into turn one on lap 134 when the race restarted. Stewart followed the Viagra car 6. Rusty Wallace climbed forward from his provisional grid position and ran third. Kevin Harvick was fourth. Bill Elliott had taken four tires while the four drivers in front of him had only replaced right side rubber which put the 9 car back in fifth place. Robby Gordon, Kenseth, Jeff Burton, Newman and Jimmie Johnson followed the top five leaders into the corner.

There were a couple young women to my right, watching the "Brickyard 400" with two guys sitting directly behind them. The girl closest to me was an Oriental lady, looking more Chinese than Korean or Japanese. She was gorgeous, beautiful in a delicate and perfectly formed way. Apparently this striking young Asian miss (possibly 22 to 25) was a Mark Martin fan because when she saw the Viagra car was leading, she clapped her hands and did the wave with her slender arms in the air in an innocently seductive movement.

However "Miss Mark Martin" fan had a short time to be happy because Stewart went inside car 6 in the south chute to move back into first place. Rusty Wallace went by Martin too and set after Tony's Home Depot number 20. Two laps later (lap 137) Rusty got under Stewart going into turn three to grab first place. On lap 138, Elliott moved into third place and set his sights on Stewart. The next lap Bill went by Tony into turn three to take second. 

It's too bad I'm not a more enthusiastic NASCAR fan because three of my favorite racers are among the Winston Cup elite. 

Tony Stewart, despite his flawed personality, is the best racer in the United States and in my opinion among the three best racers (the other two are Michael Schumacher and Juan Montoya) in the world. He's the driver who most excites me among the contemporary batch of racers, the guy who along with the majesty of the "Indianapolis 500" made me fall in love with the Indy Racing League, the competitor, in addition to Al Unser Jr., who I most want to see win the "Indy 500," one of my very biggest all time racing favorites to be sure.

I like it when Tony Stewart wins NASCAR Winston Cup races but it doesn't turn me on that much because down deep I think he ought to be running Indy cars. I would like to see Tony win the "Brickyard 400" because it's a big deal and his name belongs on the list of winners but it's essentially a secondary goal in my eyes.

Ryan Newman is the racer who made me a USAC fan during the 1999 season. I believe Newman is the best former USAC graduate this side of Tony Stewart. He should also be racing in the IRL, but NASCAR is where Ryan wants to be so I have come to accept that.

Every time it appears Newman might be headed for a Winston Cup victory, I pay close attention to the TV and hope the kid from South Bend gets it done. Cup win number one is just around the corner and once he gets the first one, they're going to come a lot easier. 

The last time I was especially excited about NASCAR was early season 1992 when Bill Elliott ran strong in the "Daytona 500" and then had something like four wins within about six weeks in Junior Johnson's Budweiser Ford number 11. Before that, the previous time I became enthusiastic about NASCAR was in 1987 when Bill Elliott won his second "Daytona 500." That was the final year the "Daytona 500" was something special, before they ruined the "great American race" with restrictor plates. Two years earlier came the "Cinderella" story of the three Elliott brothers at Daytona Speedweeks in February 1985, followed in September at Darlington with Bill winning the "Winston Million." Elliott's time at the top in NASCAR is a story unto itself and one of these days I'll delve into it in great detail. 

The glory days of "Awesome Bill from Dawsonville's" career are among my collection of special racing memories. I have two big NASCAR heroes, David Pearson and Bill Elliott. It's well documented the emergence of Bill Elliott to the top of NASCAR was one of the key foundations in the structure of the rise of Winston Cup. 

Although Elliott has always been known as an introvert who guarded his privacy, the fans responded to Bill in such a big way he was voted NASCAR's most popular driver year in year out. Although it seems impossible to imagine now with the sainthood cast upon Dale Earnhardt since his death, for most of the previous 15 seasons Bill Elliott was a bigger hit with racing fans than the beloved, legendary Intimidator. 

Recent years were not kind to Bill Elliott however. When Junior Johnson decided to close his NASCAR operation, Elliott put together a new team with sponsorship from McDonald's. That phase of Elliott's career didn't yield much success however. Prior to the 2001 season, when Bill moved to Ray Evernham's Dodge operation, his previous Winston Cup victory came at Darlington in September 1994. 

The association with Evernham brought instant payoff for Elliott when he won pole position for the 2001 "Daytona 500" in the red number 9 Dodge Intrepid. Last November Bill's long victory drought ended when he brought the first Winston Cup win to the Evernham team at Miami - Homestead Speedway, followed by Elliott's win at Pocono International Raceway one week before last month's "Brickyard 400" at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway.  

With the laps winding down in the ninth "Brickyard 400," there was Bill Elliott again looking a lot like he did fifteen years ago when the world of NASCAR was his oyster and he was the guy to beat week in week out at all but the ovals measuring less than one mile in distance.

I became caught up in the excitement of the moment as Elliott chased down Rusty Wallace, his main rival for the 1988 Winston Cup championship. Over the ten laps after he passed Tony Stewart for second (lap 139), Elliott got closer and closer to Wallace's deep blue and white Miller Lite Ford. On lap 149, Elliott's red Dodge drew even with Wallace's Taurus on the backstretch and moved inside to beat Rusty into turn three. By the time he got to the starting line to begin lap 150, Bill pulled out .7 second on Wallace.

After 151 laps, Elliott increased his margin to nearly one second. I have never been a Rusty Wallace fan but I felt a bit sorry for him. Two years earlier in the seventh "Brickyard 400," I watched Rusty lead most of the race only to fall prey to Bobby Labonte's charge in the closing laps. This time Wallace drove an outstanding race, picking his way through the pack from a provisional grid position at the rear of the field. But Rusty was no match for the red number 9 Dodge.

Matt Kenseth was on the move as the race progressed into the final stages. Kenseth, who has justified his selection as 2000 NASCAR Winston Cup rookie of the year over Dale Earnhardt Jr., with a season high four victories in 2002, was running about eight seconds behind leader Elliott. 

Elliott had a 1.5 second advantage over Wallace when caution flashed on lap 154 for debris. Ward Burton and Mark Martin bumped on the main straightaway while the field ran under yellow. The green came back out three laps later with Elliott leading Rusty Wallace, Kenseth, Stewart and Harvick. 

I never found out why Tony Stewart fell back to twelfth on the restart. I heard Tom Carnegie comment on the Speedway public address but I still don't know what happened. Whatever it was, it pissed my boy off to the point that he punched a freelance photographer for The Indianapolis Star as Tony was walking to the garage area after climbing from the Home Depot car. 

Tony get a grip! If you don't learn to keep things in check you're going to create a lot of problems for yourself and your associates and you're too good to do that.

It didn't take long for Elliott to pull away from the field on the restart. When Bill received the white flag on lap 159, he led Wallace by 1.2 seconds. The next lap "Awesome Bill" took the checkered flag for what he indicated, in post race comments, was the biggest win of his long and distinguished career. 

Look at the list of "Brickyard 400" winners. Jeff Gordon, Dale Earnhardt, Dale Jarrett, Ricky Rudd, Bobby Labonte and Bill Elliott, those are some pretty good names. Unlike recent winners of what is reputed to be the number one event on the Winston Cup schedule, the "Daytona 500," where first time or infrequent race winners often triumph, the "Brickyard 400" has been dominated by some of the all time NASCAR "biggies." That takes nothing away from recent Daytona winners Michael Waltrip and Ward Burton, both of whom I enjoy watching race. However it does seem like the NASCAR winners at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway comprise a more exclusive list. 

That begs the question. Is the "Daytona 500" really the biggest race in NASCAR or has the "Brickyard 400" become the number one event on the Winston Cup schedule? 

Certainly in the viewpoint of NASCAR, the Daytona season opener is the bigger event. The "Daytona 500" paid a total purse of $10,562,654, which is the richest in racing. By comparison, the total payout for the 86th "Indianapolis 500" last May was $10,028,580 and the total purse for the ninth "Brickyard 400" was $6,246,271. 

Another means of comparison is race day attendance. Even with an attendance figure reduced by extreme heat last month, the crowd for the "Brickyard 400" was 100,000 more than the number of fans that went to Daytona International Speedway on February 17 for the 44th "Daytona 500." Perhaps that isn't a fair comparison because the Indianapolis Motor Speedway has more seating.

The Winston Cup cars run faster at Daytona but not by much. With the restrictor plates butchering lap speeds at Daytona, the stock cars raced around Indianapolis within a few mph of the top speeds turned last February. They basically run a follow the leader, one groove pattern through the corners in the "Brickyard 400." The cars race in a closely bunched pack throughout the "Daytona 500," but the closeness is artificial since no one can pass anyone else. It all comes down to who has the best air. At the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, the guy who runs in front has to work for it. That was especially true last month when the high temperatures turned the IMS track surface into an greasy skating rink.  

Perhaps the "Daytona 500" versus "Brickyard 400" argument is pointless, like comparing apples to oranges. Maybe the best way to close this issue is to recall that Jeff Gordon, a two time "Daytona 500" winner, was quoted recently as calling his 1994 "Brickyard 400" win the most "cherished" victory of his career.  

As I walked back to my car after the race, I was trying to feel tough about the way I was challenging Mother Nature and the intense heat. I liked the ninth "Brickyard 400" and I was pleased with Bill Elliott's victory. I enjoyed this race more than any of the previous eight runnings. But it was still wonderful to get to my car and crank up the air conditioner.

I headed to the American Legion post in Carmel to meet up with John Dailey as planned. When I arrived at the Legion, John was deep in conversation with three of his fellow 1964 Carmel High School graduates, John Collins, John Lamar and Dave Kemp. It had been twenty years since I'd seen John Collins and maybe 35 years since I last saw John Lamar and Dave Kemp.

Since I graduated in 1965 I wasn't familiar with much of the conversation taking place. So I let my mind wander back to old Carmel memories these guys symbolized. I was never especially close with Lamar or Kemp, but I had experienced some good times with John Collins. One of these days I'll do a feature about the trip John Dailey, John Collins and I made to Mosport in September 1974 for the Grand Prix of Canada.

After the Legion closed, John Dailey, John Collins and John Lamar and I went to the Carmel Old Town Tavern to keep memory lane opened. The heat and the race caught up with me after we got to the Old Town Tavern and I sort of withdrew into myself while the "three Johns" proceeded with their shared memories. They were laughing and carrying on while I put down a few Heinekens and stared at the pretty girl behind the bar. Tammy Wynette (and her twins) had nothing on that cute little bar tender.

About 9:30 PM, my old body told me it was time to go home. John and I made arrangements to get together the next day but he never called. I think by then John had consumed all the Carmel he needed. It pisses me off that he didn't call on Monday August 5 but I came away from the weekend with a boxful of new memories.