Reflections of Indy 500 usually hint at hindsight

INDIANAPOLIS – Dario Franchitti won yesterday’s Indianapolis 500, and deservedly so, as Franchitti and his Target Chip Ganassi teammate Scott Dixon worked their way up to the front of the field, an idea that seemed far-fetched at best as the team struggled to find pace early in practice and qualifications, and made even more difficult with a pit road incident that sent Franchitti to the back of the pack early in the race. It was a fitting win, and sentimental and emotionally-satisfying, what with Frnachitti’s long friendship with the late Dan Wheldon, winner of last year’s race.

Yet, after the emotionally charged victory celebration wore off, talk in racing circles turned to Takuma Sato and his ill-fated attempt to pass Franchitti in turn one of the final lap, an effort that saw Sato’s race end against the turn one wall and Franchitti leisurely roll under the caution flag to his third 500 victory.

Race fans and commentators looked at Sato’s dive into turn one as further prove of the widely held perception that Sato lacks patience and poise on the race course. Even Dixon chimed in, saying, “I don’t know why he didn’t wait a little longer. I really don’t.”

Sato didn’t wait because it was the Indy 500, a race whose storied history and fierce competition demands victory be earned – rewarding those who seize the opportunity to take and leaving those waiting for gifts thinking of what might have been. As 1986 Indy champion Bobby Rahal has said, “the history books don’t talk much about those who finish second or third.”

Sato certainly would have preferred using draft to slingshot past Franchitti on the final dash to the checkered flag coming off turn four. Those best laid plans were pushed out of his mind though when he grabbed a great “tow” from Franchitti at the end of lap 199, one that put him right behind Franchitti entering turn one.

It was an opportunity too good to pass up; an opportunity that if pulled off successfully puts Sato in the annals of racing history, forever an Indy 500 champion. In the end, it was an opportunity that just didn’t work out.

A race as big as the Indy 500 usually teases racers, crews and fans with the allure of hindsight. What if Al Unser, Jr. hadn’t lifted for traffic in turn two in 1989, allowing Emerson Fittipaldi to get a run down into turn three, where the two collided, with Little Al’s day ending along the wall, Emmo’s in Victory Circle? What if J.R. Hildebrand had lifted just slightly in turn four of last year’s race, taking the chance that his margin over Wheldon was big enough to hang on to the finish? 

Hindsight can be a cruel mistress; so tempting, so teasing, yet in the end a futile pursuit. Yet, we can’t help ourselves. 

As for Sato, after the race he said, “He (Franchitti) didn’t seem to be giving me enough space. I was well below the white line. I just couldn’t make it.” Sato thinks Franchitti didn’t give him room to complete the pass, but don’t misconstrue his statement. He’s not blaming Franchitti, just stating fact. He undoubtedly would have done the same thing, given the roles reversed.

It’s the Indy 500. Victory is never a gift. Even hindsight tells us you have to take it.

Growing up in Indianapolis, Ray spent the better part of each spring at the “brickyard,” losing a lot of his hearing, but gaining a life-long appreciation of all things fast. Run laps with Ray on Twitter @RayHartjen.