By Bill Oursler

CHARLOTTE, N.C.
As much as those of us who have grown up in motorsport during the latter part of the 20th century may not like it, the 21st is bringing changes that could radically alter our sport in ways we might not like or appreciate.
In America, motorsport has long been more about the “show” and less about technology; the opposite being true for the Europeans. Yet, those lines are being blurred these days.
This past weekend, Lewis Hamilton made history by winning the Canadian Grand Prix to cap off what has been and most likely will continue to be the most spectacular entrance into Formula One by any rookie in recent memory. Despite the excitement of watching Hamilton achieve such a lofty goal, I could not help come away with the underlying feeling that somehow the racing had become lost in a myriad of regulations that only an experienced Indianapolis lawyer could understand.
On the other hand, though, the bewildering regulatory maze was not confined to the rarified air of F-1, for the Grand American Rolex Sports Car Series’s Six-Hour affair at Watkins Glen with its mandated pit stops and intricate rules about how many inches one can push one’s car alongside of a rival on a restart, brought nearly equal confusion. It is one thing for a team to need an attorney to help them cope with the regulations; it is another when the spectator and television viewer must seek the same sort of help to understand what’s happening in a relatively simple environment where speed should be king.
The idea, at least on this side of the Atlantic, of “smoothing out the rough edges” to equalize racing and thus improve the spectacle of the sport in order to create more fan interest is a laudable goal. The problem is that the complexity in this currently fickle world, where the majority appears to worship simplicity, could leave the sport, at least here, swinging in the wind if its overseers aren’t careful.
Still, this coming weekend enthusiasts will be treated to what arguably is the single most agenda-shaped and important sports-car race on the calendar: the 24 Hours of Le Mans. Over the years, the l’Automobile Club de l’Ouest has taken its own path, sometimes for the betterment of the sport, sometimes not, but always being guided by its own attitude of what it saw was right. Currently that vision is “green” tinted, which is why this weekend Le Mans is all about the fight between the Audi and Peugeot turbocharged diesel entries.
To see these two manufacturers go head-to-head using cars that would have been unthinkable just a few years ago should be fascinating. The problem is that because there is so much at stake for both commercially, the two have spent hundreds of millions of dollars designing, building and running these cars; numbers that no one else can match. Thus, like the so-called “little” teams in Formula One, whose budgets are $30 million or less, the interest in challenging the “big guys” by the second-tier competitors diminishes each year.
At Le Mans few will be watching the non-diesel LMP1 prototypes or their LMP2 counterparts because they’re in the “also ran” category. Yet when Audi and Peugeot have had enough, they will pull out, leaving a hole that could cripple Le Mans and the sport because there is no one to replace them. Racing is, in the end, an escape from the reality of the times; a look into what might be in the future, or what we might want the future to be. We need in this sport to take on the challenge of technology, to embrace it as the American Le Mans Series has with its introduction of Ethanol-blended fuels. At the same time, the sport must also understand that if it becomes too complex and too dependent on technological advancement, it could wind up with no one paying attention. Here in America, sports-car racing has dodged its demise more than once. Hopefully, it will now prosper as its caretakers blend practicality into its recipe for the future.