100th Indy 500: 100 Most Important People In Indy 500 History -- 100-51: MY VERSION

The Indianapolis Star recently published its list of 100 Most Important People in the history of the Indianapolis Speedway. It's a good list. Obviously racing fans can differ on their evaluation of contributions and impact over more than a century of racing. But I think the Indy Star's list missed the mark a bit. The Star's list overrated several, underrated the contributions of others, and simply omitted some people who deserved to be on the list.

Here, in reverse order, are my selections (100-51).  The top 50 will follow in a second post:

100. The anonymous Smith -- Names of drivers in the Indy 500 range from Ader (Walt) to Zuccarelli (Paul). There have been 8 Jones, 5 Millers, 4 Johnsons, 6 Unsers, 4 Andrettis, 3 Foyts, and 2 Rahals, Luyendyks, Snevas, and Mears. Heck, there were even two unrelated drivers named Howdy Wilcox. There was a Farmer and a Plowman, an Oldfield and a Newgarden, a Rose and a Thorne. But in 100 races, not a single driver named Smith has competed in the Indianapolis 500.


99. Don Kerston --U.S. Ballooning Hall of Fame pilot. In 1966 his hot air balloon got away from him in a reenactment of the first event ever at the Speedway, a 1909 balloon race. The runaway balloon knocked over the women's privy in turn 4 which was occupied at the time. Until recent years, the women's restroom in Turn 4 had a hot air balloon painted on it. The U.S. Ballooning Nationals conducts an annual Don Kerston Memorial Outhouse Race.

98. J.R. Hildebrand:  Heartbreak is as much a part of the legend of Indianapolis as is victory. And no one ever suffered the heartbreak of J.R. Hildebrand. 2011 was the 100th Anniversary of the Indianapolis 500. Driving for Panther Racing, Hildebrand headed into the last turn of the last lap with victory in sight. Then the unimaginable. He crashed.

97. Willy T. Ribbs: First (and only) African-American driver in the Indianapolis 500. 

96. Sarah Fisher: One of Indycar's most popular drivers and car owners, but she never found much success at Indianapolis. 

95. Larry Bisceglia -- For nearly 40 years from 1947 to 1986, driving a beat-up hand-painted van, Bisceglia was first in line for the Indianapolis 500, adding to the lore and legend of the Speedway.

94. Leon "Jigger" Sirois:  On a rainy first day of qualifying in 1969, rookie Jigger Sirois tried to qualify. His crew waived off his qualifying attempt. But when the rain started again and no one else could complete a qualifying attempt, everyone realized that Sirois would have been on the pole. His speed that first Saturday was fast enough to make the race, but for the rest of the month Sirois could never again attain a speed fast enough to make the race. Sirois came back to Indy seven straight years, but he never made the race. The "Jigger Award" was created in his honor, awarded annually to the driver or team with the worst luck of the month.

93. Frank Wheeler: Indianapolis businessman and one of the Speedway's four founders.

92. Frank Lockhart: Won as a rookie in 1926 and won the pole in 1927. Died the following year trying to set a world speed record at Daytona Beach.

91. Peter de Paolo: Nephew of legend Ralph DePalma, he won the 1925 race, the first to average more than 100 mph for the entire 500 miles.

90. Bob Collins: Longtime sports editor and writer for the Indianapolis Star. During the court battle between USAC and CART for control of Indy racing, Collins took both sides to task by writing about a new organization he was forming: Fans Against Racing Temper Tantrums. I'll let you figure out the acronym. 

89. Harlan Fengler: Race's chief steward from 1958-74.


88. Jim McGee: Longtime race mechanic.

87. Lem Trotter: On a difficult road trip to Dayton in 1908, Trotter encouraged Fisher to go forward with his long-simmering idea of building a race track. He also suggested the Memorial Day date for the first Indianapolis 500.


86. Jim Hall: His Yellow Submarine car in 1979 and 1980 revolutionized Indycar design.

85. Jack Snyder: Indianapolis lawyer who advised and represented the Hulmans and the Indianapolis Motor Speedway for several decades.


84. Johnnie Parsons: Won rain-shortened 1950 race in a car with a cracked block. After retirement, served as a popular ambassador for racing.

83. Nigel Mansell: Former world champion surprised many by joining Paul Newman's team and racing at Indy in the 1993 and 1994. His appearance drew international attention to the race.


82. Jimmy Bryan: Winner in 1958, a classic vision of a 1950s driver, he was a legend wearing a tee shirt and chomping on a big cigar.

81. Lloyd Ruby: Oh so close so many times. One of the best drivers never to win the race, finding one heart breaking way after another to lose. No one ever drove so fast and talked soooooo S . . .L . . . O . . . W.


80. Mike Boyle: Manger of IBEW Local 134 in Chicago, and rumored to be a mob boss, Boyle was owner of Wilbur Shaw's two-time winning Maserati, one of the most beautiful and most successful cars ever to race at Indy.  

79. Leo Mehl: Goodyear executive who headed the tire makers racing tire effort for twenty years.

78. Danny Sullivan: "Spin to win." 'Nuff said.

77. Rex Mays: Four-time pole winner, two time runner up. He was Tony Kanaan before Tony Kanaan, leading 9 of his 12 starts -- and that was before pace cars bunched up the field on yellows. One of the greatest drivers never to win the 500. 

76. David Letterman: Indianapolis native and lifelong fan, he became a team owner with Bobby Rahal. At a time when Indycar was going through a difficult time, Letterman was one of the few who gave the sport enthusiastic national exposure.


75. Floyd Clymer:  From 1946 into the 1970s, Clymer's yearbooks documented the history of the Indianapolis 500. His yearbook encompassing the founding of the track until WWII is a must for anyone interested in the history of the race. 

74. J.C. Agajanian: Colorful Californian owned winning cars for Troy Ruttman and Parnelli Jones.

73. James Garner: Actor and racing fan, Garner brought a touch of Hollywood to the track. He drove the pace car three times and was the subject of a race track ditty "Jim Garner Won't You Save Me."


72. Billy Arnold: His win in 1930 was the most dominant performance ever. He lead 198 laps with a winning margin over seven minutes.

71. Fred Duesenberg: Builder of extraordinary passenger cars that were as much works of art as machines, he designed and built four Indy 500 winners in the 1920s.

70. Dan Wheldon: Popular two-time winner. While most remember that he took advantage of J.R. Hildebrand's last corner accident to win in 2011, many overlook the amazing job he did driving through the field in the last 30 laps to put himself in position to win.


69. Bobby Rahal: Won 1986 race by passing Kevin Cogan on a restart with 2 laps left. Brought David Letterman into Indycar as a co-owner of Rahal Letterman Racing, gave Danica Patrick her first ride and owned race-winning car for Buddy Rice.

68. Tony Kanaan: Maybe the most popular foreign driver since Jim Clark, Kanaan lead nearly every race in which he competed, but never grabbed the brass ring -- until 2013. One of the most popular winners in recent race history. 

67. Dean Sicking: Led development of the SAFER barrier.

66. Clarence Cagle: Another  part of the Hulman team, he was the Speedway superintendent for nearly 30 years. 

65. Clint Brawner: Long time chief mechanic, he built the Brawner Hawk that gave Mario Andretti his only 500 win in 1969.

64. Frank Kurtis: His Kurtis Kraft racers won five Indianapolis 500s in the 1950s.

63. Mari Hulman George: Chairwoman of the Speedway board who annually, but often somewhat pathetically, gives the command to start engines. She may not embody leadership, but for the past quarter century nothing has been done at the Speedway without her consent.

62. Gordon Johncock: Vastly underrated two-time winner and 24-time starter. He won the race no one wanted to remember (1973) and the race no one could forget (1982 battle with Rick Mears).

61. Jack Brabham: Sir Jack brought an underpowered rear-engine Cooper Climax car to the Indianapolis 500 in 1961 and astounded skeptics with a seventh place finish. His race signaled the death knell for the front engine roadster. The Indy racing community just didn't know it yet. He drove in four 500s.

60. Paul Page: Following the death of Sid Collins, Page took over as the "Voice of the 500." In 1988 he moved to ABC to anchor the live television coverage of the Indianapolis 500. He recently returned to the radio broadcast, where this year he will formally retire.

59. Donald Davidson: Race historian whose photographic memory of the race astounded all when he made his first trip to the track in 1964. His race day appearances on the radio network, his Talk of Gasoline Alley show each May, and his 500 history classes keep alive many of the stories and legends of the race and its drivers. 

58. Lew Welch:  Owner of the famed V-8 Novi engine cars that appeared at Indy after WWII and continued to thrill crowds with their unequaled roar until 1964. Some of the sport's top drivers tried to tame the Novi -- Duke Nalon, Ralph Hepburn, Paul Russo, Chet Miller, Jim Hurtibise , even a young Bobby Unser. None could. But how the crowds loved the Novi.


57. Arie Luyendyk: Two-time winner and still holder of the track qualifying record at just under 237 mph, set in 1996.

56. Danica Patrick: People loved her or hated her, but no one can question her results at Indy. She led her first race with only 10 laps left and finished fourth in 2009, the highest ever for a woman driver. She gave credibility to the idea that a woman might someday win the Indianapolis 500.


55. Jim Hurtubise: Perhaps only Walt Faulkner burst onto the racing scene with the impact of "Herk". As a 1960 rookie, a day four qualifying effort brought him within a whisker of breaking the 150 mph barrier -- nearly 2 miles per hour faster than the pole position car of Eddie Sachs. After a horrendous accident at Milwaukee in 1964, he was never quite the same, but the fans loved him and his quixotic efforts to make the race in his front-engine Mallard.  

54. Paul Newman: A championship sports car racer in his own right, Newman starred in the movie "Winning" in 1968, the last big-budget movie set at the Indianapolis 500. He co-owned a very successful Indycar team, but never walked into Victory Lane.

53. Sam Hanks: Won in 1957 and promptly retired in Victory Lane, the only driver to do so.


52. Jackie Stewart: The Scottish mouth that roared. The three-time world champions nearly won as a young rookie in 1966. He only competed in one more Indy 500, but served for 15 years as the expert commentator for the ABC television broadcasts.


51. A.J. Watson: Leading car-builder during the heyday of the front engine roadsters. He continued to compete with rear-engine cars, but never at the same level.

.

Fear and Loathing at Rolling Stone: A Rollicking Ride Through the Essential Hunter S. Thompson

For the better part of two decades, wildman journalist Hunter S. Thompson ripped a savage path through the landscape of American politics and journalism. Punctuated by alcohol (rum and Wild Turkey) drugs, guns, fast cars and out-of control parties, Thompson utilized a wickedly astute eye, vulgar uninhibited language, supercharged imagination, an unfailing bullshit detector and a savage typewriter to lay open the American landscape of Vietnam, politicians, society, personalities, the Super Bowl and whatever else his furtive mind took aim at.

Thompson called it Gonzo Journalism. It was a swirling mess that was part fiction, part autobiography and part insightful reporting, all whipped into gut-grabbing long-form articles that told more truth than the "who what when where" of mainstream journalists. And for the most productive part of his career, those articles ended up on the pages of The Rolling Stone. They are collected here. There is some editing for length. But the editing is sparse, and the editors have done a masterful job of keeping the integrity of the original writing. 

Perhaps the most amazing aspect of his writing is how relevant Thompson's writing remains. Thompson's observations about the campaign of George Wallace in his epic piece "Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail 1972," does more to explain Donald Trump's surprise success than any current piece I have read.

His heart-wrenching, anger-drenched piece "Strange Rumblings in Aztlan" reports on the death of Chicano award-winning LA Times reporter Ruben Salazar, who was doing investigative reporting highly critical of the LA Police Department. Salaza was shot by LA Police at close range by a tear gas canister as he sat unarmed in a cafe as an anti-war protest took place outside. The shot took off the entire back of Salazar's head. There were no consequences for the police. In an age of police shootings in Chicago, Furguson, Cleveland and elsewhere, Thompson's reporting still rings true, while traditional news accounts have long since faded.

Who else but Hunter Thomson can give you an account of a drug-crazed, gun-toting, hooker-accompanied escapade with a familiar black judge only coincidentally written while Judge Clarence Thomas was going through his confirmation hearings (Fear and Loathing in Elko). It's outrageous. It's spit coffee through your nose funny. But at its core is a truth that the national media couldn't touch. 

At the heart of Hunter Thompson's writing, even when liberally peppered with fiction, was an unvarnished truth as Thompson saw it. Perhaps the best example was his obituary to Richard Nixon. Eschewing the "don't speak ill of the dead" mantra, his article "He Was A Crook" is a scathing recounting of Nixon's abuses and an unblinking view of how history should perceive him. 

This book captures all of Hunter Thompson's massive talent, along with notes and letters from the Rolling Stone's editors that reveal much of Hunter Thompson's personal troubled journey. It's a wild ride that will grab you by the throat and not let go. But that was Hunter Thompson.

The Quiet American -- Two Films Worth Watching

This week flipping channels I landed (as I frequently do) on TMC, which was showing the 1958 film The Quiet American, based on Graham Greene's novel. Filmed mostly in Vietnam, the movie was written and directed by Joseph L. Mankiewicz, and starred Audie Murphy, Michael Redgrave, and Giorgia Moll.

Watching it prompted me to go to Netflix and rewatch the 2002 film, a much more true-to-the-book version starring Michael Caine, Brandon Frasier and Do Thi Hai Yen.

Both movies, as is the book, are set in 1952 Vietnam in the waning days of French rule as Ho Chi Minh and his communist forces move toward victory. The films present an interesting look at a view of global politics in southeast Asia, one from a  movie made before the Vietnam War, and the other made afterward. 

The 1958 movie is good. It is probably one of Audie Murphy's best performances, and Mankowitz created an interesting plot twist, though by doing so, he sanitized Greene's story into an American view of the world at the height of the Cold War and the Domino Theory. 

The 2002 movie is more richly textured. It features an Oscar-nominated (and deservedly so) performance by Michael Caine as a jaundiced aging British reporter trying to hold on to his relationship with a young Vietnamese girl. Brandon Frasier is the quiet American, a CIA operative posing as an economic development attache'.  

If you are going to see only one of these movies, the 2002 version is the one to see. It captures Graham Greene's view, even in 1955, that questioned the morality and wisdom of American involvement in Vietnam, and his ultimate outlook that no matter who emerged from the Americans / Communist conflict, it would be the Vietnamese people who lost. 

In these days when some belicose politicians keep wanting to send young Americans to spill blood in every hot spot around the world, it is well worth two hours to watch the 2002 version of The Quiet American.

Besides, Michael Caine is superb, and it's just a damn good movie. 

2016 Milo Awards for Best Movie

The Golden Globes have been awarded. Oscar nominations have been released. But now it's time for the awards that really count -- my annual Milo Awards for Best Movies, Actors, Directors and Songs.

This year there are six movies that really standout for me -- and another 10 or so that are truly outstanding.  There is no common theme other than that they are engaging and well-crafted. 

Note:  I have seen most of this year's notable movies, but there are a few that are not included because I have not seen them, among them: Room, The Danish Girl, Steve Jobs, Trumbo and Anamolisa.

Here are my Milo Award winners:  

BEST MOVIES (Top 20)


Winner:  The Big Short  --  This film about the 2008 financial crisis takes a topic that is almost incomprehensible, and not only explains it, but thanks to incredible writing, acting and directing, makes it a remarkably gripping and entertaining movie. Steve Carell and Christian Bale turn in remarkable performances.

2.  Brooklyn -- This is the way romance movies should be made -- It's not just a boy/girl romance. The movie tells the story of an immigrant Irish girl in the early 1950s torn between her family and a known life of some comfort back in Ireland, and a life of uncertainty but unrestrained promise among strangers in Brooklyn. It's a choice between looking back and looking forward. This is tour de force by Saoirse Ronan, who is simply spellbinding, and deft directing by John Crowley who knows how to use Saoirse Ronan's eyes to tell a story.

3.  Bridge of Spies  -- This is storytelling at its best, an evocative and compelling story of the tension-filled years at the height of the Cold War. Steven Spielberg and Tom Hanks are at their best. So is Mark Rylance as the multi-faceted Russian spy at the center of events. Based on a true story.

4.  Chi-Raq -- Spike Lee's retelling of the Greek play Lysistrata in the context of urban gun violence in present-day Chicago is pure genius. The script is remarkable, the acting powerful, a the direction is spot on. 

5. Straight Out of Compton -- This story of NWA, Dr. Dre, Ice Cube and Easy E is powerful, inspiring and tragic. The script and direction take a story that could have been a mess, or worse, a trite melodrama, and make it a powerful film. 

6.  Ex Machina -- Original. Suspenseful. Provocative. The best science fiction film in the past dozen years. Can't say more for fear of spoiling it. Just make sure you watch it.

7.  Carol -- This too is a love story, but one between two women trapped in the world of 1950s New York. Cate Blanchette and Rooney Mara are outstanding in this deeply textured movie. The uncredited star of this movie is 1950s New York City. The only down side of this movie is the lack of joy at any point in any relationship.

8.  Beasts of No Nation -- This is a brutal unforgettable film that follows a young boy caught up in the indecipherable political violence of central Africa. Idris Elba is the rebel commander and Abraham Attah is Abu, the boy whose family is killed by government troops. They were snubbed by the major awards, but their performances are griping. After his village is decimated, Abu wonders into a rebel camp where he is transformed into a soldier willing to kill on demand. But beneath the violence, he still remains a boy, and there is some hope in that. Streaming now on Netflix.

9. Creed -- Oh no! Someone trying to milk one more movie out of the tired Rocky series. That's what I thought. But good reviews convinced me to go see it. And I was blown away. This is a reboot that is better than any movie in the series except the original -- and it even gives the original Rocky a run for its money. Sylvester Stallone delivers the best performance of his career, and young Michael B. Jordan is outstanding.

10.  Spotlight -- Perhaps the best inside journalism movie since All The President's Men some 40 years ago.  It is the newspaper equivalent of a police procedural. Michael Keaton and Mark Ruffalo lead an excellent cast. But whether it's because we all know the end, or because we don't feel a real fear that the Catholic Church will hire a hitman to do away with the reporters to keep its secrets, the movie lacks a bit of tension.

11.  Mad Max: Fury Road -- Another surprise for me. I didn't like the Mel Gibson original Mad Max movies -- except for Tina Turner. But this update drew me in from the start. It is well written, well paced, and the acting is top notch. 

12.  Room -- Highly regarded emotional drama. Brie Larson has won all the best actress awards, and she is very good. But the movie belongs to 8-year-old Jacob Tremblay. 

13. The Revenant -- I know this won the Golden Globe for Best Drama. I put it this high on my list largely because of the performances by Leonardo DeCaprio and Tom Hardy. It is a well-made movie. But unlike t many movies on this list, I really don't have a desire to see it again.

14.  The Martian -- This is Apollo 13 meets Castaway. Matt Damon does a great job of injecting a bit of believable humor into his dire situation. But did we really think we were going to sit through a 2+ hour movie only to have the guy who was on camera 90% of the time die in the end?

15.  Tangerine -- This movie got a lot of publicity for being entirely filmed with an iPhone. But it deserved attention for far more than this technical oddity. A transgender prostitute is released from jail on Christmas Eve, and spends the day seeking out her cab driver / pimp who has cheated on her while she was in jail. Meanwhile, the cabby is trying to keep his secret life from his family and particularly a disbelieving snooping mother-in-law from the old country. It is a slice of street life, with fascinating characters that take you through a range of emotions from sadness, to anger, to isolation. It also includes perhaps the funniest scene of any movie I've seen this year.  Streaming now on Netflix.

16.  Trainwreck -- Rude, crude and pee-your-pants funny. I'm not a big fan of comedies, but the struggles of Amy Schumer's flawed character clicked with me.

17.  Star Wars: The Force Awakens -- The biggest money-maker in film history takes its place as a deserving part of the Star Wars legend. But tell the truth -- didn't it seem like you had seen this movie before a long time ago in a theater far far away?

18.  The Walk -- Having already seen the award-winning documentary Man on Wire about this same event, I wondered if it would hold my attention. It did. Warning:  If you have vertigo, this may not be the best movie for you. I actually flinched at one point when he was on the wire -- something I never do in theaters.

19.  Spectre -- I know that reviews of this last and perhaps final installment of the Daniel Craig version of James Bond didn't set critics on fire. But I really liked this, particularly as a concluding segment to Craig's Bond. For those of us who have been Bond fans since the beginning, and have a love affair with the character as created by Ian Fleming in the books and Sean Connery in the movies, this was a nice way to wrap things up -- until the next Bond comes along.

20.  Man from UNCLE  -- This was one of the most delightful surprises of this year. Those in charge wisely elected to keep the movie set in the 1960s, as was the original television series. The action is fun and exciting, and unlike all the Mission Impossible movies, the plot is not so convoluted as to defy understanding. This is just plain old movie fun.

21.  Mr. Holmes - Ian McKellen brings to life an elderly Sherlock Holmes after WWII, now concerned with his failing intellect, and being looked after by a housekeeper and her son. It's a movie more about aging and regrets than solving a mystery, although that is there, too.

22.  Far From the Madding Crowd  -- This is like a richly woven tapestry. A wonderful version of the Thomas Hardy classic. Carey Mulligan and Tom Sturride play the star-crossed loves who cannot cross the societal barrier into being lovers. 

23. Dark Places -- This second movie made from Gyllian Flynn's books far outpaces Gone Girl. The story centers on a girl who was the sole witness and only survivor of a family massacre for which her brother was convicted. Now an adult and in need of money, she turns to a group that has an unhealthy interest in sensational crimes. The movie is very true to the book, and Charlize Theron's performance is riveting. 

Other movies of note:  Paddington,  Inside Out, Me and Earl and the Dying Girl, A Walk in the Woods

Most Disappointing Movie of the Year:

Joy -- Okay, I know it got a Golden Globe Nomination and Jennifer Lawrence won the award for Best Actress (Musical or Comedy).  But there was no joy in this movie, outside of Bradley Cooper's performance. The script was nonsensical. 

Worst Movie of the Year:

Sicario -- A lot of critics liked this for some reason. But the entire scenario just didn't make sense. Is the CIA really going to take along an FBI agent as a witness when it sets up a plan to start assassinating people, including families? Is the CIA going to stand by while a rogue criminal threatens to kill an FBI agent? One word comes to mind:  contrived.

Best actor:

Winner:  Leonardo DiCaprio -- The Revenant
Tom Hanks - Bridge of Spies

Matt Damon - The Martian
Michael B. Jordan - Creed
Steve Carell - The Big Short
Abraham Attah - Beasts of No Nation

Best actress -- 

Winner:  Saoirse Ronan - Brooklyn
Cate Blanchette - Carol
Amy Schumer - Trainwreck
Brie Larson - Room

Charlize Theron - Dark Places / Mad Max

Kitana Kiki Rodriguez - Tangerine

Best supporting actor -- 

Winner:  Sylvester Stallone - Creed
Mark Rylance - Bridge of Spies
Tom Hardy - The Revenant
Christian Bale - The Big Short
Idris Elba - Beasts of No Nation
Jacob Tremblay -- Room
Nick Nolte -- A Walk in the Woods

Best Supporting Actress:

Winner:  Rooney Mara - Carol
Alicia Vikander - Ex Machina

Mary Steenburgen - A Walk in the Woods
Joan Allen -- Room
Olivia Cook - Me and Earl and the Dying 

Best Supporting Actor (Non-Human):
The Bear -- The Relevant

Best Cameo:
LeBron James - Trainwreck (He was VERY funny)

Best Director:
John Crowley - Brooklyn
Alejandro G. Iñárritu - The Revenant
Todd Haynes -- Carol
Adam McKay -- The Big Short
Alex Garland -- Ex Machina
Lenny Abrahamson -- Room

Best Song:
Winner:  See You Again  - Furious 7 (Inexplicably not even nominated for Oscar)
Writing's on the Wall (Sam Smith) - Spectre (Likely Oscar winner)
Love Me Like You Do (Ellie Goulding) - Fifty Shades of Grey
Til It Happens To You (Lady Gaga) - The Hunting Ground”

The Colts Are (Rhymes With "Lucked") -- But Not Yet

That sound you hear is the thumping of people jumping off the Colt's bandwagon. 

Yes, Colts, a team picked by many to be in the Super Bowl, are 0-2, and worse, they look awful. The vaunted basketball-on-grass offense looks more like poop on your lawn. The offensive line looks like a chef demonstrating a sieve on the Food Channel. And the word heard most often after Colt passes rhymes with Luck, but isn't.  



But the good news -- The Colts are still in the hunt for the AFC South Division championship. That puts them in the playoffs.

Despite an early season win, the Titans and Jags don't strike fear in anyone. And the Texans have already benched one starting quarterback, and just seem lost. 

It's hard to imagine the Colts not winning the AFC South. So that means that IF the Horseshoe can play decent at all, they are in the playoffs. And IF they can get the offense righted and the defensive backfield healthy, they could make a playoff run. 

That is, unless they get beat by division rival Tennessee this Sunday. Then truly they are . . . rhymes with Lucked. 

The Price of Indycar Racing -- #PrayersforJustin

Indycar driver Justin Wilson - Photo by Stephen Terrell

Ernest Hemingway wrote, "There are only three sports: bullfighting, motor racing, and mountaineering; all the rest are merely games."  And of all the forms of auto racing, the most spectacular, the most dangerous, is open wheel racing.  

Participants know this. Devoted fans know this. It is the cruel truth of the sport. And no matter how much safety is improved -- no matter how new designs, materials and technology make it possible for drivers to survive the seeming unsurvivable -- the sport can bite.  And it can bite again.

And it does so without concern as to who are the good guys, who is quick to laugh, who always has a smile and a comment for waiting fans, or maybe most disturbingly of all, who has incredible racing skill. In 2011, it happened to Dan Wheldon, a 2-time Indy 500 champion and perhaps the sports most popular driver both with fans and fellow drivers.

Racing fans care, and care deeply, about the men and women who risk their lives at speed. And when something happens, like happened Sunday to driver Justin Wilson near the end of the Pocono 500 Indycar race, it just saps something from you.

Sage Karem, the brash and talented young gun driving for Chip Ganassi, was leading the race. Exiting turn 1 at 210 miles per hour, his car snapped around and hit almost head on into the outside "safer barrier" wall. Even by Indycar standards, it was a particularly violent crash at an sharp angle. You could tell from the race announcers' voices that they were concerned for Karem's well-being. 

It took a while for Karem to get out of the car. He had to sit for a few minutes before walking with a bit of a limp to the waiting ambulance. But clearly he was not in danger.

But there was a second car involved. Justin Wilson's car never made contact with Karem, but he crashed into the inside wall and came to a stop. Casually watching, it seemed maybe he ran over some debris that may have damaged his tires and suspension, not an unusual occurrence in all forms of racing. Emergency crews were quickly on the scene, and it became apparent from their actions that this was not routine -- that something more serious was involved.

On replays, it became obvious that the nosecone from Karem's car had flown into Wilson's path. He had no time to react. Traveling at over 200 mph, Wilson hit the large piece of bodywork with direct impact in the cockpit, likely with Wilson's helmet.

It was a fluke. A devastating happenstance. 

The force of this impact is evident in the video. After hitting Wilson, the nosecone flew high into the air, perhaps 100 feet above the track. Such are the physics and forces of physical bodies colliding at more than 100 yards per second. 

Wilson was airlifted to a nearby hospital in a coma and in critical condition with a severe head injury. It has happened to other drivers. James Hinchcliff was hit with a flying piece off of Justin Wilson's car at the innaugual Grand Prix of Indianapolis and missed qualifying  for the Indianapolis 500 due to a concussion. Grand Prix driver Phillipe Massa was hit in the helmet by a spring dropped from the car in front of him at the Hungarian Grand Prix. He was knocked unconscious. Both recovered and raced again.

But Wilson collided with a bigger piece of debris at a much higher speed. So as Indianapolis Star racing reporter Curt Cavin wrote, "Now we wait."

I met Justin Wilson in 2014 at the annual Burger Bash on the Friday night before the Indianapolis 500. He is well over 6 feet tall, much taller than any other Indycar driver. He has a warm smile and is quick to laugh. He has an easy engaging way with fans, enhanced by the charm of his British accent -- a throwback to those who remember Graham Hill charming Indycar fans in the late 1960s and early 1970s.

But make no mistake. He is an incredibly gifted driver with a burning desire to win -- something he has done seven times in Indycars. When he joined the Andretti racing team at mid-season this year, the Andretti stable of drivers was suffering through perhaps its worst Indycar seasons. But Wilson joined the team, lending his expertise on car setup, and the fortunes turned. Almost overnight, the Andretti team was again competitive.  Wilson finished second at Mid-Ohio and former Indy 500 winner & Indycar champion Ryan Hunter-Raey, who was having a miserable season, suddenly won two races, including Sunday at Pocono. 

So now the Indycar drivers and crews will pack up and head west to Sonoma, California for the season ending race. It is what racers have done since the earliest days of the sport. It is what racers will always do. But that does not mean their thoughts and hearts, and those of Indycar fans, will not remain in a Pennsylvania hospital room.

#PrayersforJustin

Note: Hours after this was originally posted, it was announced that Justin Wilson died from his injuries. Thoughts and prayers are with his family and many friends.

Reflections in Shadows Past

I recently attended the 45th Anniversary Class Reunion of my high school graduation class -- Muncie Central High School, Class of 1970.  Even though the class has reunions ever five years, it was the first time I attended. I thought maybe it was time.  Maybe I could put to rest some of those long ago ghosts from a high school experience that was, at best, a very unhappy time.

The reunion resulted in a surprising swirl of emotions -- some good, some not so good, some so multi-faceted that they are taking a while to digest.  In the end, this reflection about more about me than my classmates and the reunion itself.

To understand nearly anything, you have to start at the beginning.

I grew up on the east side of Muncie, the youngest of seven born to older parents (father 52, mother 45). My dad worked at Chevrolet and had a third grade education. By the time I started high school, he had retired with health issues. My mother had, at best, an eighth grade education. For most of my school years, she was an elementary school cook. Although they lacked formal education, they were among the most intelligent people I've ever known, interested in politics and the world around them.

I grew up mostly with kids who came from families that relocated from Jamestown, Tennessee and Morehead, Kentucky, seeking factory jobs. They brought with them their prejudices, but that mattered little since our neighborhood and elementary school were all white.

But that changed in junior high. Muncie Schools, in their infinite wisdom (sarcasm intended) took the poor white kids from the east side (Mayfield and Ault Shire additions) and the poor black kids who came from Whitely, an ironically named all-black neighborhood that carried the moniker of its developer, and threw them together in a new school -- Kuhner Junior High.  It was a volatile mix.

In my first day in junior high, two older black students jumped me and took the money I had on me. My joyfully innocent view of school was gone in an instant. I never viewed school quite the same after that. And the tension in the school spilled out in other ways. The most vicious fight I ever saw was at Kuhner when two girls attacked each other with knitting needles right outside the school office. Still, I got along with most of my classmates. Black and white alike, we shared one thing in common -- our economic status.

I didn't have great grades at Kuhner, but I topped the charts on all the standardized tests.  When I got to Muncie Central, I was placed in the "college prep" classes. The problem I faced was that those classes contained almost no one else from Kuhner. LouAnne was in a couple of my classes my sophomore year. Gary Marcum, who was a math whiz, was in my science classes. But that was about it. Everyone else in my classes came from McKinley and Storer junior high schools.

 I was shy, socially awkward and tremendously insecure. I was quite immature in most respects, though I didn't know it at the time. I didn't know how to make new friends. I was nearly petrified around girls. And now I felt isolated, like Robert Heinlein's "Stranger in a Strange Land." 

In my junior year, my father died suddenly. After missing most of that week, I returned to class only to have my English teacher confront me about why I hadn't been in class the previous week. Seems no one from the office bothered to tell my teachers. The experience confirmed that few at the school really knew anything about me.

This is not to say that I was bullied or picked on. I don't remember any instances of name-calling or classmates making fun of me (except in gym class, of course) -- not that I didn't give them the material. It's just that my life seemed so different from those others who sat in my math, history and English classes. They knew each other from junior high and before. They had an easiness and familiarity in their conversations. They hung out with each other, went to dances, ballgames, movies.  I stayed to myself. After school, I went home and read or watched television.

When Muncie schools erupted in race riots in the tumultuous late 1960s, police roamed our school hallways. But even then, I never had any confrontations. The experience of my first day in junior high was never repeated. 

My only activity was band. It helped me more than anything to get through my high school experience.  In the end, my absolutely awful grades as a sophomore gradually improved to mostly As and Bs by my senior year.

In college, life changed. I found my footing both in the classroom and socially. I graduated with honors. My life has traveled a long way from those days of high school insecurity. I've practiced law more than 30 years, trying cases and handling appeals in federal and state court. I've received numerous honors from the Indiana State Bar Association. I've written two novels and hosted an online radio show. And in 2014, the Muncie Central Alumni Association honored me with its Distinguished Alumni Award.

But still, sometimes in early morning dreams, those shadows from high school linger. Maybe that is why I decided, after 45 years, to attend my class reunion.

The reunion really started a night early. As I left a downtown restaurant after dinner, I ran into three classmates. I recognized Bruce Munson, a Muncie lawyer with whom I have had occasional professional contact over the years.  The other two were Portia Henshaw and Phil Scruton.  I recognized Portia, with whom I shared most of my academic classes. Phil was a leader in the band and dance band, which were my only school activities. 

Particularly heartwarming was the genuine excitement Portia showed at seeing me after all these years. We had connected several months earlier on Facebook, but there was nothing like a face-to-face meeting.

One of our classmates later described Portia as the type of person you knew, even in high school, would become a fascinating woman. You knew she would grow even more interesting and beautiful as she aged.  And he was right. She lives with her husband in Colorado where she teaches school, hikes and is an ultra-marathoner. And she bears that calm self-confidence that comes from being content and at peace with herself and her life. 

Saturday evening I walked into the Delaware Country Club not knowing quite what to expect. Part of me wanted to turn around, but the chance meeting the night before encouraged me to go forward. So I did.

Of course the first reaction is, "Everyone is so old!" Then the  realization hits -- you are that old, too. I glimpsed a couple of faces I immediately recognized, and saw some familiar names on people I didn't recognize at all.

Phil Scruton, who I had seen briefly the night before, was one of the first people I saw. Some things don't change. He is still the smoothest guy in the room, always ready with a winning smile, flirting a bit with woman, sharing stories with guys, and always seeming to know just a little something that you don't.

I saw Larry Ratchford, a slight man who for years played keyboard with various local musical groups. He is Muncie's version of Paul Schaffer, even bearing a likeness to David Letterman's long-time band director. I didn't get a chance to talk with him -- and he probably wouldn't have remembered me. But it was fun watching him scurry people up onto the dance floor, enjoying the music and encouraging people to move to the rhythm of the evening.

Stephen King wrote in his story "The Body" (later made into the movie "Stand By Me") that you never have friends like the ones you had when you were 11 years old. My biggest disappointment of the evening was that none of my good friends when I was 11 years old were present.  None of them. David True, Bradley Smith, Bruce Downing, Steve Miller, Benny Wyman, Gary Store -- the guys I played ball with and rode my bike with -- none of them were there.

But some of the guys I knew from elementary and junior high did make it. Sam Moore wasn't a close friend, but we played baseball together and were in the same elementary school classes. Sam moved to Dallas when he got out of service, the same city where my son currently lives.  He's now retired. You can tell something from a face, the way someone talks, the way a man carries himself. Sam is a just a good guy. I was happy I saw him.

Gary Marcum, who was a math whiz, was there, too. He seemed to be the center point for many of the Kuhner folks, most of whom sat at his table. Gary is a man of faith and a high-intensity bike rider who I enjoy following on Facebook.

There were another four or five Kuhner Junior High students who attended, but I only found out through post-event Facebook posts by Gary. Charlie Boggs, Dale Kiger (both good basketball players) and a couple more were there. I wish I had been able just to say "hi."

I spent a good part of the evening talking with Mike Frame. Mike was a bit of a wild man in high school, testing the limits of his 1968 big-engine Dodge Charger. But he survived -- including getting a ticket for doing 137 mph.  Mike ended up with a construction business in central Florida. With two heart surgeries behind him, he just retired, turning his business over to his son. Mike is a big personality, and one of the few people who dominates a discussion to the point that even I have a hard time getting a in a word or two.

He's a big bear of a man, oblivious to subtleties and nuance.  Like Popeye, "he yam what he yam, and that's all that he yam." I'm not sure Mike and I have much in common anymore. But I can't help myself. After all these years, I still like the guy. I hope to sit down with him over beers again some day.

There were two somber moments during the evening. The first is to be expected. In a corner of the room was the poster with the photos of all our classmates who have passed away. I stood looking at it with Portia. Her best friend's photo was there, a victim of cancer. I recognize maybe a dozen photos and names. All those young faces staring back at our no longer young eyes.  By the 50th Anniversary there certainly will be more of those once young faces on that board. It is the way of life.  And time.

The other moment was a long discussion I had with a classmate who had recently battled cancer. She was a sparkling sprite of a girl, full of life and energy. Her experience with cancer, her parent's strokes, and the aftermath in which people she had always counted upon had turned their back on her, have sapped much of the joy of life she always exuded. It was tough to hear. She's recovered from the cancer and has a good man in her life.  I hope it all goes well for her. She deserves better.

The Muncie Central Class of 1970 had well more than 500 graduates. Yet as I sat looking over the room, I realized that part of our graduating class was missing. In a school where perhaps 15 percent of the graduates were African-American, there was not a single face of color in the room.

Not one.

There were some serious racial tensions during our high school years. There were riots in the Muncie high schools all three years we were there. When racial tensions soared, we had uniformed officers patrolling the halls. 

But despite the tensions, the school was not overtly segregated. At least in my classes and in band, whites and blacks generally seemed to be at ease with each other. Of course it didn't help when the football coach's son punched out a black girl in the cafeteria when she cut in line. But that was the way of things in those often troubled times.

I don't know the reason such an important segment of our class was missing. Maybe class reunion organizers need to make a stronger effort to reach out to African-American leaders in the Class of 1970. I just hope that when the 50th Anniversary rolls around, that all segments of our class are represented.

When I arrived at the Reunion with Diana, my date from the Muncie Central Class of 1969, we chose to sit at an empty table near a window. The table was the only one that did not substantially fill during the evening. Throughout the evening, only Mike Frame joined us at our table.  Next to me was Gary Marcum's table, filled with those who attended Kuhner Junior High.  Elsewhere there were tables full of classmates with whom I shared classes, but who were only acquaintances rather than friends.

It was a strange feeling.  All these years later -- all these years, and miles and experiences later --  here I was in the same position as I was in high school.   I remained in that void between those with whom I grew up and those with whom I shared classes -- not really belonging in either world.