Formula one. IndyCar. NASCAR.
Breakfast in Monaco. Lunch at Indianapolis. Dinner in Charlotte.
Slender tree. Bloody Marys. Beer.
This is the highest racing day of the holy days, and it’s not even close yet. The harmonious convergence of motorsport does not happen every year but more often than not. Thank you horsepower heaven. Sunday was filled with that perfect octane when one… two … three signature events caught on in alignment like the perfect chassis setup, the crossing of speed boundaries since those of us. in the United States wake up until we collapse back into our pillow like it’s a SAFETY barrier. One can start and end a day of racing while lying in bed. And why not?
You may not care a thing about car racing. You probably don’t know a nut from a walnut. But that shouldn’t stop you from getting into a fuel-filled dip on Sunday. Take a moment… OK, take a day, to fall into the sensory overload that only real racing cars – even three very different race cars – can provide. .
So hold on to the wheel. Put down the hammer. Ahoy poll and boogity, boogity, boogity!
All the things that Tom Cruise was doing with a fighter jet in “Top Gun: Maverick” or what Bruce Wayne did in his new muscle car Batmobile in “The Batman”, or all that The stunts that Spider-Man did with all of that tricked-out gadgets in “No Way Home,” the unrealistic act you paid a lot of money to see this year? These riders do it all the time with no special effects, and on Sunday they do it all at once.
Numbers: 90 riders, 678 laps, 1,267.1 miles. Three really big titles.
It begins with the Monaco Grand Prix (8:55 a.m. ET, ESPN). Since 1929, race cars have raced through the streets of Europe’s sexiest adult playground, whizzing past casinos, skating around fountains and glowing alongside a fleet of seemingly endless yachts. like infinity, where men and women sunbathe and breathe in ethanol. This is the first race to be organized by the royal family, under the supervision of Prince Louis II. Almost a century ago, a course was taken on the streets of Monte Carlo for Bugatti and Mercedes machines producing 140 hp. Drivers wearing shirts, full upper body exposed, drove their cars on small tube tires through Saint Devote’s stiff right hand, slid past the Hairdressing Station, and sped out of Le Tunnel for a dash downhill towards a dangerous road. threatened to throw them into the Mediterranean waters below.
During Saturday practice sessions, Charles LeClerc out of that tunnel in a 1,000-horsepower Ferrari traveling 185 mph.
Nearly 4,600 miles to the west, more than 300,000 fans will listen to and watch the action from Monaco as they make their way into the stands and in the yard of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway on Sunday morning for Indianapolis’s 106th run. 500. They call it the Greatest Circuit. The spectacle in Racing and it’s run in what they call the Racing Capital of the World, and there’s no hype associated with either title. there. What is known simply as the “Highway” opened in 1909 with a hot air balloon race, a 2.5-mile rectangle built by four entrepreneurs eager to build a proof-of-concept platform. can showcase America’s still new auto industry.
On Memorial Day 1911, a noisy, smoky field of 40 machines producing 100 horsepower turned heads at nearly 80 mph, wrestling Marmons, Fiats and steel Buicks around a toothed surface. The sprinkle is made up of 3.2 million bricks. Only a dozen cars made it to the end, leading to Ray Harroun’s checkered flag on his bright yellow Marmon Wasp, a car decorated with the first rearview mirror.
During last week’s extreme elimination session, Scott Dixon drove into that same first turn in a 750-horsepower Honda at 241 mph.
Everyone will sing along with the Purdue Marching Band. They will stand and applaud the hundreds of active military members who marched down the tunnel for the duration of the match. They’ll gasp as the US Air Force’s Thunderbirds rocket overhead. They will weep as the lone trumpet player fills the air with a haunting yet flawless performance of “Taps” honoring those who died in defense of freedom.
After watching the winner drink his own milk, a tradition dating back to 1936, when winner Louis Meyer took a sip of buttermilk to soothe his overheated stomach, Indy 500 fans will return to the area. their campsite, hotel room and bar to see the Coca-Cola 600 from Charlotte Motor Speedway. In 1960, future billionaire Bruton Smith and even future NASCAR Hall of Fame driver Curtis Turner bulldozed and moved a 1.5-mile oval into the countryside north of Charlotte. , when it was a sleepy southern town. Highways are still a new concept in vintage car races, and 500 miles is seen as the limit that those cars and their drivers can go. So, in an attempt to steal some advertising from Indy and Daytona, Smith and Turner chose to make their race 600 miles. They called it the World 600. They wanted to run it over Memorial Day weekend to compete with Indianapolis, but the track wasn’t ready. So on June 19, 1960, an endless line of 60 cars producing 325 horsepower, many equipped with cow- and chicken-wires to ward off crumbs of asphalt, moved to turn 1 at 140 mph. Joe Lee Johnson won a Chevy race, passing the Thunderbirds, Pontiacs and Oldsmobiles courts, 42 of which failed to complete the 5½ lap.
When this 40-year-old field fights their way into the first corner, they’ll be pushed there by nearly 700 horsepower and at 180 mph.
Is Monaco too old, too slow and too crowded? Right. Just this week, Red Bull boss Christian Horner said just as much.
Was the Indianapolis Motorway layout designed for tin cyclists at a time when fans still used horse-drawn carriages to get to the track not exactly the best fit for passenger rockets? guests today? Maybe. In the last practice session of Friday, Colton HertaIts upside-down collision in the air is a reminder that we’re watching surface-to-air missiles kept firmly on the ground.
In an age of NASCAR’s bulletproof Next Gen car and rugged engines driven by skilled drivers, is 600 miles the true measure of endurance it used to be? Not an opportunity. And will the days of all-fuel-powered, fossil-fuelled cars suffer the same fate as the dinosaurs whose remains are now burned up? Sure.
But that’s not the problem. The problem is that this Sunday is still the coolest of the cool days. So great that when Hollywood made a movie about this day, it went into legend. James Garner for Monaco (the first 15 minutes of “Grand Prix” are better than most racing movies). Clark Gable and Paul Newman for Indy (“To Please A Lady” and “Victory”). And Charlotte? It has Elvis (“Highway”).
Monaco, Indy and Charlotte are not revered for what they are now. They are cherished for what they have always had. And if there is any consciousness inside the helmets of runners, that will never change. It should never change. This day is a reminder of why. The best day.
The day that Max Verstappen and Lewis Hamilton can walk the trails of Ayrton Senna, Graham Hill, Michael Schumacher and Sir Stirling Moss, knowing that their views on Monaco remain the same as theirs. The day that Marco Andretti can follow the line running around Indy by his bloodline, grandfather Mario and father Michael. When rookie Jimmie Johnson possibly based on the legendary Scott Dixon, when AJ Foyt can shake hands with Rick Mears who can shake hands with Helio Castroneves, and the surviving members of the four-time winner’s club were able to connect 500 people from 1963 to the present day, instantly. The day when a NASCAR field full of 20 things will roll down the same Charlotte bench, where David Pearson, Richard Petty, Darrell Waltrip and Dale Earnhardt all aim for victory.
Every Sunday driver – all 90 of them – wants to win a trophy. But more than that, they wanted to know how they compared with their predecessors. Today, these races and these venues are the yardstick. Everyone wins. Everyone loses. All riders lost their lives. This day is about every one of them.
It’s about wearing a wreath in Monaco. It’s about hugging the Borg-Warner Trophy at Indy. It’s doing the hat dance and hugging your loved ones in Charlotte.
Casino Square. “Back home again in Indiana.” Speed Street.
Mr. Jackie. Super Tex. King.
Formula one. IndyCar. NASCAR.
Drivers, start your engine. Fans, start your remote. Everyone, let’s start your memories. All of. Day. Long.
