Back Home Again in Indiana.

I was pretty excited all day Friday about going to Indianapolis for the race so much so that I could barely wait to get the trip started. After turning in my work for the day at the temp job, went home to kill time and was basically ready to leave at 8 pm that night. This of course was idiotic since my hotel reservation weren’t until 12 pm Saturday check in. Fortunately for me, Tim came by and hangs out with me for a couple of hours to calm me down. Which was good because I probably would have left that early. After he left I went to the gym for my usual late night work out and then came home and got cleaned up afterwards. I had looked at the schedule of events for Saturday and had seen that there was a drivers autograph session that lasted for an hour at 9 am. I had gone back and forth on whether to attempt making this but at about 12:30 am in the morning that night I realize there is no way am going to be able to sleep. I load the car up and get ready to leave. It’s now about 2 am and I hop in the car after checking for the seventeenth that I have the ticket to the race and the lot 8 parking pass. As I head towards the interstate 70 to the on ramp, I see something next to the car in the other lane, as I pass it I realize I was about this close to doing a Rory Gilmore “I hit a deer.” Fortunately the deer decided not to move in either direction and I pass by safely and get on the interstate.

The drive to Indy is surprising uneventfully and straight, there was one period where I felt drowsy about 4 am but I stop at a rest stop and grab a mountain dew and I ready to keep going. Just about 6 am I’m outside of Indianapolis and the sun is coming up over the city and looks beautiful. There is another rest stop so I pull in and take bathroom break and try to get a picture. Unfortunately in that small amount of time to pullover and use the rest room the sun is out behind the clouds and all I get is a picture of a blinding sunrise full of glare. I hit the road again and drive though town, there are signs for Conseco field house where the Pacers play and Lucas Oil field where the Colts and Payton Manning play. I look for signs directing me to the speedway but find none. I continue on to find my hotel on the other side of town. I can’t check in but at least I know where it is. There is a Denny’s there so with time to kill at 6 am, I go in and I am surprised by the quick service. I get my breakfast and eat it in 15 minutes. I guess everything is fast in Indy since Denny’s is usually an hour no matter what you order.

I decide to head to the speedway even though gates don’t open until 8 am that day, I follow my directions and look for any signs pointing me to the speedway. There are none to be found but I keep going. The part of town continues to get worse as I drive, and starts to become one of those neighborhoods where you don’t even feel safe in your car. According to the directions I am close but still no signs saying Indianapolis Motor Speedway this way. Finally I make a turn and I see a brick over pass that has checked flags painted on it, this must be it. Passing under the overpass, a block or two more I finally see the speedway grandstands. I have directions to the museum but I am not sure where I can park today since I don’t have a pass for Saturday. I pass several parking lots and wonder if it is okay to park there but am not sure.  I turn back around and see that they are letting people in at 7 am. This surprises me and it will take me another 2 hours to realize I have lost an hour because Indy is on Eastern Standard Time.

I pull up to ask a policeman that is directing traffic where I can park and he motions me to turn inside the entrance to the speedway and directs me to go inside there. Wait a minute; you mean I can take my car inside the speedway? Yes, they allow people to park in there on Saturday only and it’s for free. My car is now inside the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. My piece of junk car that is ten years old and barely holding together is inside the track. After some confusing direction on where park, I finally am directed to a place to park. I get out still not believing that I’ve been allowed to do this, I flag down a person who works there and ask, “Is it okay for me to park here, do I need a pass?” She says that “it is fine and I don’t need a pass”. I grab my backpack that has things to be autographed and start to look around. I’m pretty much in a daze right now just trying to take it all in but I notice directly across from where I parked is an Indycar. I race over to get a picture, it is Alex Tagliani’s car and there are some people setting up camera for a photo shoot. About the time I snap a picture, someone from behind me tells me I can’t be here. It’s okay if I get one picture but I must leave. I tell them I already have my picture and say I’m sorry and get out of their way explaining this is my first time here and I’m overwhelmed.

I see the pagoda, the 33 car-scoring tower, and the sign that says Gasoline Alley. Holy shit, Gasoline Alley is right over there. I walk towards it and right up to the gate. I see people with passes walking though the gate into the garage area. I don’t have a pass or know where to get one but I don’t care. I’m looking right though the gate into Gasoline Alley. I just stand there at the gate dumbstruck for a moment and look. I want to try to go in but I know I am not supposed to be in there and I don’t even attempt it. I don’t belong in there and I know it. There is a souvenir stand off to the side that is just opening, I need a hat since I know I will sunburn without it. I walk up and get a hat and then they try to sell me some other things I need. The lady tells me I will need earplugs for the race, I am not sure about this but she assures me I will so I buy them. I ask her if she knows “where the driver’s autograph session is?” She doesn’t but then sells me a sharpie that it turns out I will not need since the drivers already have them.

I head back to Gasoline Alley and walk around the fenced in area, and finally find someone who directs me to the where the driver’s will be signing over by the pagoda. I walk past newly built legends suites that read like a who’s who of the brickyard. I pass Al Unser’s suite, which is followed by AJ Foyt, Rick Mears, and just about ever racer car driver I worshipped as a kid. I reach the autograph area and there are long lines already, I still haven’t realized I’m on Eastern Time yet so it’s an hour later than I think. I see the tables with the drivers name cards on them but I’m having trouble reading them. I try to walk up to read them better and locate Sarah Fisher’s line when somebody from the speedway yells at me about walking up closer. I explain that I’m not trying to cut in line or anything I’m just trying to read the nametags. He informs me in not too nice a way that he has a list of where the driver will be sitting. I’m like okay, I didn’t know, “I’m just looking for Sarah Fisher’s line”. He tells me it’s over there. It is about that time I realize that they have the drivers seated by rows they qualified so Sarah is in row 10. Her line is long but not too bad. Next to her is the line for row 11. Tony Kanaan is that row since he had trouble qualifying I want his autograph too. His line is way longer. I look at Sarah’s line again and then back at Tony’s. They are only signing for one hour there is no way I can get both. There is no decision to be made really. I walk to back of Sarah’s line and wait.

As I stand in line something wonderful happens, I strike up a conversation with people in front of me. I don’t normally do this but it just happens. What happens next is hard to explain. I realize I am talking to people “who get it.” There are no blank stares or puzzled looks in return when I speak of Indycar. They know as much as I do. I can’t convey they joy this brings to me. I am talking to people who get Indy. Nobody since Mom passed away has filled this void with me. No matter how hard I try friends will never get it like these people do. We discuss how Paul Tracy got screwed out of his win and it was given to Helio instead even though Paul clearly passed him before the yellow came out for the accident. They bring up how Scott Goodyear got screwed with the ruling he passed the pace car and didn’t win. I realize this is all gibberish to most of you reading but this really means something to me. We discuss Sarah Fisher’s trouble’s qualifying this year along with Tony Kanaan’s and how we thought neither would make the race but they did. We talk about who we think will win the race this year, they think Helio, and I think Will Power. As we talk, a young woman walks up and gets in line about 7 people behind me. She is carrying a giant Sarah Fisher standup that was an in store display for her breast cancer fundraiser that has her in the pink fire suit. Another person who gets it. You realize you are surrounded by people “who get it”. You make a mental note to tell that girl she is awesome for having that stand up. You could not be happier.

The line starts to move seems to be moving quickly. You pull the Hot Wheels of Sarah Fisher’s car out of the backpack; you have the pink breast cancer shirt to be signed but think that would be too much to ask to have her sign two things so you put it over your shoulder. As you arrive at the front of the line and there she is, you ask her to sign your hot wheels and tell her that you have converted a lot of you friends to being fans of hers. They may not know anyone else, but they know who you are. “That’s neat,” she says. You want to take a picture with her but are afraid to ask and slow down the line. She spots the shirt draped over your shoulder and asks, “Do you want me to sign your shirt” Yes, I really did but didn’t want to impose. As she signs it and you tell her “to tell Tony Kanaan not to run over you on his way to the front”. She laughs and says “No Kidding!”  Unfortunately that quickly it is over, and you must move on to get the rest of the row’s autographs. As you finish you realize that you have lost track of the girl with the standup but then find her a minute or two later and tell her “You are awesome for having that!” Another person who gets it.

This story is long and probably means nothing to the few of you who are reading, but I find myself surrounded by people “who get it” like I do all day. From the guy on the track tour who has been to 15 races but never taken the track tour before and agrees to take your picture on the bus, to the group of Brazilian women speaking Portuguese next to you at the rookie press conference, to the Asian mother in the museum who speaks no English but puts her 5 year son in the Indycar to be photographed behind the wheel of an Indycar. Everywhere you go people get it. Much later in the day after you’ve finally eaten and slept and are in the motel alone, you wake up and flip though the program from tomorrow’s race and it finally happens. You start to cry for no real reason. You thought it might be when you saw the speedway, or the sight of the Johnny Lightning special driven by Al Unser, or the Marmon Wasp driven by the first winner Ray Harroun, or the Foyt Coyote Gilmore race car that AJ won the record fourth 500^th or just the Borg Warner trophy itself.  Instead it’s because you are finally in place where “people get it.” You now understand why people are compelled to pick up and move here leaving their homes just to be in a place where everyone understands. Although this is your first time here you are “Back Home Again in Indiana.”