Indianapolis 500 Memory: Mansell Mania

One of the more interesting events I covered in my nearly 20 years as a sports writer and editor was in 1993 when Nigel Mansell was a rookie at Indianapolis.

To put things in perspective, here’s a bit of context:

 

·         The Indianapolis 500 was still the only event at IMS – no Brickyard 400, no U.S. Grand Prix, no MotoGP, no Freedom 100, no Nationwide race, Porsche Cup, etc. The first Brickyard 400 had been announced about a month before the track opened, but the inaugural event was still more than a year away

 

·         The prelude to the 500 was still basically a month – two weeks of practice, four days of qualifying spread over two weekends

 

·         A healthy entry list meant no worries about a 33-car starting grid. The competition was so tough that Bobby Rahal, the reigning series champion and 1986 500 winner, was bumped

 

·         Interest in the 500 – nationally and worldwide - was perhaps at its high point. Basically every paper in Indiana staffed at least Pole Day and the race. I worked at the Logansport Pharos-Tribune, a paper with a circulation of 15,000 in mid-north Indiana, and I spent the entire first week of practice and Pole Day trackside, filing daily stories and gathering information to produce a special race preview section

 

·         Papers all around the Midwest and the country did the same – the 500 was that important. It was a major sporting event on par with the Super Bowl, Masters, World Series, Kentucky Derby and so forth

 

·         Adding Mansell – the reigning World Champion - to the mix brought in a healthy dose of international media. So much so that IMS was compelled to add to its press facilities

 

·         This press facility was NOT the nice one just north of the Pagoda. This was a one-level semi-baracks building behind the stands at the south end of the main straight. Unlike today, there was no food service. Hungry and on deadline? Go buy a hot dog and run back to your RadioShack TRS-80. Or bring a sack lunch. (I did a little of both.)

 

·         No real assigned seating – you just found a spot among the long tables and hoped that some big shot from the Chicago Tribune wasn’t used to sitting there. On Pole Day and especially Race Day, you were in close quarters, with someone on either side and directly across from you. It was so cramped that once the great Jim Murray yelled at me to get away from one of the monitors because he couldn’t see. (There were about four of them for 200-plus journalists.)

 

·         Also, not only was smoking allowed, it was in many ways encouraged as reps from the cigarette companies would come through and pass out samples

Anyway, back to Mansell. As has been recounted, Indianapolis was to be his first oval because he missed Phoenix (remember how that race was a bit of a prelude to Indianapolis?) because he spun and violently backed into the wall, resulting in a hole to the wall and Mansell’s lower back.

Still on the mend, Mansell didn’t get on track until Wednesday of that week – following an entertaining press conference that referenced golf balls (not the kind found on a golf course) and an impression of A.J. Foyt  (“Just watch it, boy” – you have to imagine an Englishman trying to sound like a Texan – I might still have the cassette tape of this somewhere).

As Mansell and car headed out to the pits, the press followed pied-piper style. Thank goodness ace PR man Michael Knight (I recommend his blog) was there with his bullhorn (yes, really) to maintain some semblance of order.

Mansell was THE story of the month, much to the chagrin, I’m sure, of the reigning Indy standouts like Emerson Fittipaldi, Al Unser Jr., Arie Luyendyk, and, say, Mansell’s teammate, one Mario Andretti. He was accessible, charming and affable – which all the blokes from the European press corps said he most definitely was not.

After qualifying a big lower than was expected, Mansell had an excellent chance of winning the race before being passed by eventual winner Fittipaldi and Luyendyk in the late stages to settle for third.

Phoenix notwithstanding, Indianapolis was the only oval Mansell did not win as he cruised to the series championship, clinching with one race to go. His other victories came at Milwaukee, Michigan, New Hampshire and Nazareth.

Alas, Mansell Mania was fleeting. About a year later, the top results disappeared and the moody Mansell returned – and returned to the grand prix circuit for what turned out to be an ignominious ending to a sterling career.

In addition to elevating IndyCar interest globally, Mansell’s arrival also temporarily obscured some storm clouds on the horizon.

 
In particular, the subject of one Jeff Gordon came up more than once during the month, with the question being:  Shouldn’t we be concerned that this American talent, who cut his teeth on the short tracks around the Midwest and has developed a solid fan base, was forced to abandon his hopes for an IndyCar ride because he didn’t have a big enough checkbook and instead is now pursuing what looks to be a promising career in NASCAR?

The general answer: Who cares about this Jeff Gordon guy? We’ve got Nigel Mansell, and he’s the best-known driver in the world. NASCAR can have all the Jeff Gordons it wants.

Photo credit: Indianapolis Motor Speedway