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.
