...Formula 1 racing in the United States, that is.
There's been talk for a while about F1 in Austin, TX, at the new Circuit of the Americas (which still has what looks to be an awesome Turn 1, but anyway).
Now, F1 in New Jersey starting in 2013... Comparisons made to Spa-Francochamps (Belgium), although the local leadership apparently wants to put people more in the mind of Monaco with a city course (and based on quotes from said leadership). But then, I suspect the references to the premier city course in the world (sorry, St. Petersburg, FL) are more to distinguish it from driving the Jersey Turnpike than anything.
Two major races in a country that hasn't really been motivated to support one in decades, in a ridiculously expensive and technical sport. This could be interesting to watch.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Godspeed, Dan.
I haven't posted in a while, although I've actually made some progress in weaseling my way into motorsports.
But it seems appropriate to say a bit today, after the tragedy in Las Vegas, if there are any words that truly capture it. Maybe it's just a selfish catharsis, but if so, here's hoping the Internet will indulge me, for the moment.
No matter how many safety innovations the engineers make (and trust me, they're always working toward it... Indeed, I was scheduled to attend a motorsports safety and technical conference later this year), there will always be that incident that brings reality back: Motorsports will never be entirely safe. Neither will football, or law enforcement, or any number of other fields where safety engineers and applied researchers (myself included) invest our time.
There are those who will say that Dan Wheldon knew the risks. And they would be right, as much as anyone can know the risks of any activity that s/he engages in.
Dan knew the risks, and so did all of us; the drivers, the crews, the fans, the research geeks, the engineers, and the safety and officiating personnel.
It doesn't change the fact that it's a tragedy, and a horrific loss.
No, there was nothing Dan could have done in this instance, and there was nothing that IndyCar could have done either. People (including drivers) argue that the speeds were too high; those same individuals will always want a faster car. They'll argue that the field was too large (one larger than the previous max of 33 cars, a limit set for a larger track), but no one wants to be the odd man out, and no one could question Dan's right to be there (starting last and already working his way through the field).
My opinion, for what it's worth, is that this will be to IndyCar what Dale Earnhardt's death in 2001 was for NASCAR. It has shaken the sport to its very core, and it will never be the same.
A colleague said that because this was the season-ending race, rather than the season-opener (as in 2001), that the time will give more time to recover. Perhaps, but it also gives more time for doubt and fear. My heart is broken for Dan's family, his friends, but also for the sport.
But it seems appropriate to say a bit today, after the tragedy in Las Vegas, if there are any words that truly capture it. Maybe it's just a selfish catharsis, but if so, here's hoping the Internet will indulge me, for the moment.
No matter how many safety innovations the engineers make (and trust me, they're always working toward it... Indeed, I was scheduled to attend a motorsports safety and technical conference later this year), there will always be that incident that brings reality back: Motorsports will never be entirely safe. Neither will football, or law enforcement, or any number of other fields where safety engineers and applied researchers (myself included) invest our time.
There are those who will say that Dan Wheldon knew the risks. And they would be right, as much as anyone can know the risks of any activity that s/he engages in.
Dan knew the risks, and so did all of us; the drivers, the crews, the fans, the research geeks, the engineers, and the safety and officiating personnel.
It doesn't change the fact that it's a tragedy, and a horrific loss.
No, there was nothing Dan could have done in this instance, and there was nothing that IndyCar could have done either. People (including drivers) argue that the speeds were too high; those same individuals will always want a faster car. They'll argue that the field was too large (one larger than the previous max of 33 cars, a limit set for a larger track), but no one wants to be the odd man out, and no one could question Dan's right to be there (starting last and already working his way through the field).
My opinion, for what it's worth, is that this will be to IndyCar what Dale Earnhardt's death in 2001 was for NASCAR. It has shaken the sport to its very core, and it will never be the same.
A colleague said that because this was the season-ending race, rather than the season-opener (as in 2001), that the time will give more time to recover. Perhaps, but it also gives more time for doubt and fear. My heart is broken for Dan's family, his friends, but also for the sport.
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