And now, he’s gone.
I got so bored watching the ABC announcers yapping during the forever-long red flag period during today's race that I went upstairs to take a nap. It was during that time that my 11-year-old, Nick, came in to tell me that a buddy of mine had just called. Dan had died.
I had DVR’d the race, and was able to watch the now-riveting parts of the ABC coverage that I’d missed. I saw the announcement of Dan’s death, the crying of the other drivers and teams, the five-lap tribute (during which they played “Danny Boy,” of all things).
During all this while, there were NFL games on other channels. I love football, too. I thought of all the times I’d seen an NCAA or NFL guy go down with an injury and heard the announcers get all serious, the players kneeling in prayer. But those guys don’t die.
In racing, they do.
I love racing. IndyCar, in particular. The cars are so fast, so sleek, so cutting-edge and beautiful. Nothing in sports eclipses the glory of the Indy 500. But those open wheels . . . oh, those open wheels. In Cars 2, female cars swooned over the open wheels of the Italian-sounding F1 character. But those darned, sticking-right-out-there wheels—the nonsensical, aerodynamically unsound grandfathered-in homage to Indy’s early days, when they’d strip the fenders off of road cars to make them lighter and faster—have proven time and again to be horrifically dangerous. Wheels touch, often on the counter-rotating leading and trailing sides, and carnage ensues.
Nothing surpasses the beauty and sleekness of an IndyCar. These slim, hyper-powered darts are the essence of motorsports. But something has to change. Ironically—and tragically—a new IndyCar chassis is in the pipeline for next year. It’s a car Dan Wheldon test drove repeatedly—going so far as to jokingly call himself a “crash-test dummy” for the new chassis. It features fairings that essentially enclose the rear wheels, reducing the likelihood of the very sort of wreck that cost him his life today.
I keep seeing Dan’s photo from his Indy 500 victory this year—the one where he’s posed at the start-finish line with his wife, two-year-old and newborn. The racing community and its fans loved this little Brit. With his passion for racing, his impish smile and engaging personality, he’s the exact sort racing fans always love to see win.
Godspeed, Dan Wheldon. Grace and peace to you, your family and friends. As the weeks and months pass, may we learn the lessons you taught us.
