Monday, July 24, 2006 | 7:19 a.m.
And in the lonely cool before dawn
You hear their engines roaring on.
But when you get to the porch they're gone.
When he wrote "Thunder Road," Bruce Springsteen was referring to the boys Mary sent away. But he could have been foretelling the future of open-wheel auto racing in Las Vegas.
There are a lot of burned-out Chevrolets haunting the dusty beach roads of our auto racing past. Only most of them don't have fenders.
First to come was Formula One, to a parking lot at Caesars Palace in 1981. It was first to go in 1982.
"You can't hold a Formula One race in a bloody car park," the great Jackie Stewart once told me.
Second to come was Championship Auto Racing Teams, also to a parking lot at Caesars Palace, albeit with fewer turns and better-known drivers - do the names Mario Andretti, Al Unser and A.J. Foyt ring a bell? - in 1983. It was second to go in 1984.
Apparently, you can't hold an Indy-car race in a bloody car park, either.
Third to come was the Indy Racing League, to Las Vegas Motor Speedway in 1996. It was third to go in 2000.
It took five years for attendance to dip so low that not even the Speedway could find a way to make money on an open-wheel race.
Fourth to come was Champ Car, the remnant of the once proud CART series, to LVMS in 2004. It was fourth to go in 2005.
In the 2004 race, teammates Sebastien Bourdais and Bruno Junquiera staged the most exciting duel in LVMS' 10-year history. Too bad nobody saw it. Most of the crowd left after the NASCAR truck race.
Fifth to come will be the second coming of Champ Car, to a temporary downtown street circuit next spring. The sanctioning body has a five-year contract with the city to turn the streets, avenues and parkways bordering Fremont Street into the world's fastest taxi lane.
The Vegas Grand Prix will probably be fifth to go in 2012.
Don't get your fireproof coveralls all in a bunch, Champ Car fans. I'm one of a dwindling number of American motor sports enthusiasts who still believes that real race cars don't have doors. It's just that our city's history for supporting Indy-style racing is as checkered as the flag at the end of the race.
Yet, why do I think this one still has a chance to succeed?
Could it be the 750-horsepower engines that produce the kind of high-pitched whine that hasn't been heard around these parts since Little Richard last played the Orleans showroom?
No.
Could it be the cars themselves, low-slung 200-mph missiles that could probably fly to Saturn and back if their aerodynamic wings were pointed up instead of down?
No.
Could it be the brave and skillful drivers, such as Bourdais, the baby-faced assassin from France, and Paul Tracy, the bad boy from Summerlin, and all those female fans in the short shorts who long to meet them?
Maybe. But probably not. I'm getting too old and too married for short shorts.
Could it be a novel business model by which promoters hope to turn a profit solely by selling corporate sponsorships, thus allowing spectators who don't mind standing to watch for free. Free as in the parking in Monopoly when you roll double sixes from Vermont Avenue. Free as in the rock band that said it was "All Right Now."
Yes. The value of a free ticket well, simply cannot be overstated.
I've been on Fremont Street standing elbow to elbow, three and four deep, for Joan Jett and the Blackhearts. For the Grass Roots. For Bachman Turner Overdrive without Bachman. Or the overdrive.
Maybe these were just classic rock fans in need of a fix. Most likely they were just people who live here looking for a cheap night out.
It doesn't get much cheaper than free. A Champ Car race through the streets is just an excuse to throw a king-sized party. If you've been to Long Beach for the Grand Prix, you already know this. They could put chimpanzees behind the wheels of those cars and nobody would mind. Or for that matter, notice.
So as The Boss said to Mary, why not climb in? Las Vegas may be a town full of losers when it comes to open-wheel racing. But at least this time, it won't cost you a thing.
archive
