I admit to having a checkered past, after living in the Indianapolis area for over 25 years. I couldn’t help but become a race fan, but now I’m a spoiled one. I’ve traveled to most every Indycar track in the U.S. The last race that I attended was September 2, 2018 at the  Portland International Raceway. In 2017, I took my grandkids to the Daytona 500. 2018 was the inaugural Formula One race in Austin, and in 2002 & 2004 I last attended the Indy 500 after years of  practically living at the Speedway. Being in the media business, I always had total access to the drivers and I couldn’t remember the last time I paid for a ticket – until yesterday at the St. Pete Grand Prix. I went with a couple of neighbors, but felt left out without credentials or special seating. We sat on the metal bleachers with the other common folks on the airport straightaway and the only familiar face I saw was Mario Andretti. 

I stood at the pit access entrance for an hour,  hoping for an encounter with an old friend. I was cheering for Conor Daly, a friend’s son, but he had a disappointing day. Most of the drivers I had never heard of, except for the sons and grandsons of those from my era. Parnelli Jones’ grandson was on the podium for the Indy Lights competition. Graham Rahal was competitive most of the day.  Jimmie Johnson made the transition from NASCAR. Teams from Andretti, Penske, A.J. Foyt, and Ed Carpenter Racing created some sense of familiarity. As the cars flashed by, I couldn’t recognize their color schemes or sponsors since it was the first race of the year. Scott McLaughlin scored his first career Indycar victory, after winning Rookie of the Year in 2021. I was a stranger in a strange land of about 150,000 spectators. 

I wore an old Red Bull racing shirt that was purchased at the Austin Formula One event, but that team is not even involved in Indycar this year. As a result even my clothing choice was out of date. I’m apparently now a dinosaur, even as a fan, with little association with the sport any more. For years, I sold sponsorships and knew the players, but yesterday I was just part of the crowd. I didn’t have a stinking badge for VIP access or a suite seat to get out of the sun, and even had to pay for a beer.  I didn’t arrive by helicopter as was the case for one Indy 500 or in a custom motorhome. I also wasn’t part of the pit crew or hang with the team. There was no police escort, special parking pass, or golf cart. I was just a regular, old race fan for once, but with a checkered past.