What’s Missing on This Sentimental Sunday?

Historic Indianapolis Motor Speedway won’t be pulsating today with the excitement of the Indianapolis 500. The race has been postponed to August due to the coronavirus pandemic, but race fans instinctively yearn for the speed, sound, and adrenaline rush that only comes from “The Greatest Spectacle in Racing.”

INDIANAPOLIS — An alarm is set for 4 a.m. on this particular Sunday each May.

That’s the best time to drive into Indianapolis Motor Speedway on the morning of the annual Indianapolis 500, “The Greatest Spectacle in Racing.” Traffic is minimal because most race fans are still asleep, thousands already on or around the grounds in motorhomes, campers, or tents.

Arriving as early as 5 a.m. means a nap in the media parking lot. Thoughts inevitably dwell on one question: “Whose life will change forever today with that celebratory swig of milk in Victory Lane?”

But in a surreal turn of events, the Indy 500 won’t happen today.

It pains to type that. The Indy 500 won’t happen today.

These Indianapolis Motor Speedway grandstands were supposed to be filled on May 24th for the 104th Running of the Indianapolis 500. Due to the coronavirus pandemic, "The Greatest Spectacle in Racing" has been postponed to Aug. 23 :: Robert Scheer/USA TODAY Sports

Instead, I’ll sleep in and try not to think about how the coronavirus pandemic has pushed this race back to Aug. 23. I’ll try not to dwell upon what is missing from this day, those 200 laps on the famed 2.5-mile IMS oval, an unforgettable annual occurrence I’ve had the pleasure of writing about 24 times.

From my first time in the IMS grandstands as a wide-eyed kid, the high-pitched sound of those race cars resonated. That's the first thing that gets your attention. It’s so damn loud. My father never forewarned that after a first Indy 500, later that night when sleep is impossible, your ears are still buzzing from the unmistakable sound of those cars.

Who knows when my ears crossed over the sound barrier to not hearing cars when the head hit the pillow. It happened at some point, an inevitable rite of passage from attending the race so much.

Like many fans, this race first became important because of family. It’s passed on through the generations. That’s saying something when remembering how my late father and I had a love-hate relationship. In the early stages of dealing with the lymphoma that would end his life after 57 years in 1998, the last thing my father said before being wheeled into surgery was, “Son, you’re a pain in the ass, but you’re a comfort to me.”

But we didn’t need to say anything to connect on the Indy 500.

After attending a couple of Indy 500s, the family Memorial Day weekend tradition meant listening to the race on the radio. Dad was a Mario Andretti fan. I cheered for A.J. Foyt. We were about 15 minutes away from Indianapolis Motor Speedway, a late arrival for pole day because of my father’s real estate commitment running long, when Foyt called it a career and pulled off with a wave goodbye on May 15, 1993.

David E. Wilson saw disappointment and anger in his oldest son’s face. All he could say was, “I’m sorry, son.”

Yeah, it’s impossible to avoid thinking about what’s missing this race day. In good times and bad, the Indy 500 was always a constant in an ever-changing universe that for me revolved around sports.

You can’t forget seeing 300,000 people create an incomparable buzz as they filed into IMS. As a journalist, one of the favorite pre-race rituals was walking on the track, checking out each of the 11 rows of cars, then sitting on the pit wall far beyond the starting grid, and staring up at the grandstands.

It’s important at such moments to just take in the atmosphere. You never know when you won’t be back. A few years ago, David Letterman decided to venture out past the cars as well. It’s not every day the pre-race routine includes shaking hands with Dave and sharing a laugh.

Another annual expectation has been Foyt giving me a hard time when I walk into his A-1 garage in Gasoline Alley. My nickname for the first four-time Indy 500 winner is “Grizzly Bear.” His bite isn’t nearly as sharp as it once was. He’s still capable of asking, “What the hell do you want now?” But he was actually polite for the entire two-week process a couple of years ago. He had to be asked about that.

“Yeah,” Foyt said with a smile, “I’m mellowing in my old age.”

What can replace that personal interaction? Nothing.

Whenever Roger Penske greets you with a nod and a handshake, how can you forget being in the presence of another legend whose name is synonymous with the sport? You can’t.

Hall of Fame team owner Roger Penske, who celebrated his record 18th Indianapolis 500 victory in 2019, agreed to purchase Indianapolis Motor Speedway in November :: Brian Spurlock/USA TODAY Sports

Then there are the current drivers, an interesting collection of personalities. Each car has so many stories attached to it, starting with those behind the wheel. That human-interest angle is fascinating. Countless interviews allow you to get to know most of them well. You look forward to the next chat with Scott Dixon, Simon Pagenaud, Will Power, Alexander Rossi, Josef Newgarden, Ed Carpenter, Tony Kanaan, and Graham Rahal, among others.

The “yellow shirt” IMS safety patrol members are good friends who provide great stories. The 2017 story of Gold Badge member Ken DeLion meeting John Andretti, both battling colon cancer, is an all-time favorite. DeLion passed away less than two months after his final Indy 500. Andretti just departed on Jan. 30, with his hearse making a drive-by on the IMS track. But I can still see Andretti and DeLion sharing laughs after being introduced, a bond for the ages.

The last chance for a journalist to be a fan on race day is the start. Few things in life compare to seeing all 33 cars roar down the front straightaway to that first green flag. Back in the day, we would walk down to inside the first turn. Seeing the cars come from a vantage point outside the first turn is unforgettable.

The start to 2019's Indianapolis 500 at Indianapolis Motor Speedway :: Mykal McEldowney/USA TODAY Sports

Then, it’s time to flip a switch and focus. The race is always a blur. Even after more than two decades, the actual time when cars are speeding around doesn’t register because it’s an adrenaline rush to keep tabs on everyone — with one ear listening to the IMS Radio Network, the other ear paying attention to the TV broadcast. What place are the cars running? How are the lap speeds changing? Who is set up for a final pit stop and dash to the Yard of Bricks start/finish line?

The Indy 500 removes everything from the mind for about three hours. What else can do that? It’s another exhilarating perk, that you can be so intensely riveted on a race for that amount of time. Everyone should be so fortunate to call this work. I’ve said more than once, I’d do it for free.

That’s why when leaving at night, you look back at the track and the infield Pagoda, uniquely illuminated on each level, including the top-finishing car numbers. At that moment of farewell, there’s sadness. The next Indy 500 is a year away, and you won’t feel what you did this day for a long time.

In the interest of full disclosure, my contract as a writer for Indianapolis Motor Speedway and INDYCAR wasn’t renewed for a fifth year in 2020. Penske bought IMS and had to make some bottom-line budget decisions. I understand. It wasn't personal. It was business.

Penske always has been respectful. You don’t forget how many times he granted a one-on-one interview that can be one of the most difficult chats to get because “The Captain” is the busiest of men. These days, even more so.

I cheered the November announcement of Penske’s IMS purchase. I sincerely hope they can run the race in August. It’s that important to everyone. Just remembering the pep in the step of seemingly indefatigable IMS President Doug Boles on any day at the track inspires a smile.

Nothing can ever change my affinity for the place or the race.

That’s why there’s no use trying to ignore being overly sentimental on this particular Sunday.

It’s time to grab a cold glass of milk and accept reality. Or maybe I’ll just pour it over the head, my tribute to a driver deprived of this traditional honor today.

Frenchman Simon Pagenaud of Team Penske soaks up the milk and Victory Lane adulation of winning the 2019 Indianapolis 500 :: Grace Hollars/USA TODAY Sports

(Phillip B. Wilson attended his first Indianapolis 500 in 1980 as a 15-year-old kid seated in the outside grandstands North of pit row, which offered an ideal view of Johnny Rutherford’s triumph in the Pennzoil Chaparral 2K, dubbed the “Yellow Submarine.” Wilson has covered 24 Indy 500s, including four for IMS.com and indycar.com. He’s now editor of AllColts.com, a Sports-Illustrated site providing coverage of the Indianapolis Colts. He authored the 2013 book 100 Things Colts Fans Should Know & Do Before They Die. He’s on Twitter @pwilson24, on Facebook at @allcoltswithphilb and @100thingscoltsfans, and his email is phillipbwilson24@yahoo.com.)