And now, into the future. So we’ve got reconciliation in Indy-car racing. For the first time since 1979 — really, the first time in history — we have one person in charge of the sport. No splits, no dissent, no threats, just one guy leading and defining the direction of our sport.
This might come off as negative, but I don’t mean it to. Just call it honesty. But within one segment of the American motorsports world — grass-roots, short-track racing — this whole reconciliation thing is being greeted with a resounding, “So what?” Or even, “Who cares?”
Hey, I write this not in anger, or bitterness, in victory or defeat. I write it, you might say, in the acceptance of reality.
For the past 20 years, you could find stories about all kinds of auto racing in this space. But in recent years, you might have noticed very few stories about Indy-car racing. Why? Because the sport has once again morphed into something I don’t find particularly interesting.

... many people believe this is the dawn of something great for Indy-car racing. Maybe it is, but for most of us American short-track fans, it’s nothing new. See, we got our hopes up once before, only to be told that our interests — or our vision of what Indy-car racing should be — isn’t where it’s at.

I say “once again” because I’ve been here before. I grew up an ardent fan of the Indianapolis 500—still the greatest race in the world — and of open-wheel racing. But by the early 1990s, the sport had left me behind. Not just me, but nearly the entire American grass-roots fan base, comprised of die-hard short-track fans like me.
Indy-car racing had become completely Euro-centric. And, fact is, Euro-centric sports have never appealed much to American sports fans. You know, like trying to sell soccer to a football audience. So we found other things to follow. For most short-track fans, that meant NASCAR.
For many of us, the advent of the IRL in 1996 renewed our interest. Ovals were back in vogue, as were American short-track racers. Alas, it was a fleeting dream, and today’s IndyCar Series is nothing like it was 10 years ago.
So, instead of writing about how disappointed I was, about how the sport had again left me behind, I simply found other things to write about. Which is as it should be; most people don’t come here every couple of weeks just to listen to me bitch and moan.
Why write about it now? Because in the glow of reconciliation, many people believe this is the dawn of something great for Indy-car racing. Maybe it is, but for most of us American short-track fans, it’s nothing new. See, we got our hopes up once before, only to be told that our interests — or our vision of what Indy-car racing should be — isn’t where it’s at.
There is another group of fans who are excited and happy today. They like road and street racing, and they don’t care anything for short-track racers. For them, today’s Indy-car racing is very much to their liking.
That’s cool. I understand. But I can’t help but feel a great sadness, because — at least from my perspective — now there is no hope. See, there was always a chance that somehow Indy-car racing could morph back into something that could again appeal to short track fans, and renew a connection with short-track racers. But from what I’ve seen so far — and maybe I’m jumping the gun, I don’t know — it seems that we are simply back to CART 1994, only this time it’s forever. It’s final.
You know what’s ironic? In the coming weeks and months, there will be lots of discussion on how to grow Indy-car racing. Marketing, and all that. Yet, one of the most significant markets of race fans in America — short-track fans — is off the table. I mean, why pursue former customers who left because the product no longer appealed, when you haven’t changed the product they rejected?
This is a fact: There is a total disconnect between Indy-car racing and the American short-track community. Go to any short track, in any town, and look around. You’ll see lots of NASCAR hats and shirts, and virtually nothing of Indy-car racing, not even the Indy 500.
If you think that’s simply because of “the split,” then you’re not listening to short-track fans.
There are many people within Indy-car racing who believe this isn’t important. If short-track racing is so big, they say, why don’t they sell out massive grandstands at every outing? What they fail to understand is that vast numbers of fans and competitors are scattered across thousands of tracks every week. Individually, at one small track, it looks insignificant; collectively, it amounts to hundreds of thousands of people. Maybe millions, I honestly don’t know.
I do know this: It’s a significant enough market that it could provide a solid foundation for a big-time racing series. In fact, when NASCAR in the late 1980s began to reach mainstream America — in a way unprecedented in American motorsports — it couldn’t have been successful without a foundation of grass-roots race fans, most of whom are avid short-track fans.
I’m glad the split is over in Indy-car racing. I truly am. I hope Tony George and the people in IndyCar can figure out how to grow their series, and become a healthy and vibrant form of motorsports. If they do, I’ll lift up my glass and sincerely toast their success. But I’ll still be sad, and remember the long-ago time when Indy-car racing appealed to grassroots America.