Analysis: Chaotic first NASCAR Cup road race at IMS ends with more questions than answers
INDIANAPOLIS – Excitement was the goal, but chaos took its place Sunday at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway during the NASCAR Cup series’ inaugural race on the road course. What transpired may very well go down with Formula 1’s tire debacle, and NASCAR’s own rubber mess in 2008, as one of the darkest days on the competition front in the history of the Racing Capital of the World.
Years later, record books will state that A.J. Allmendinger, racing’s definition of a journeyman, won the Verizon 200 at the Brickyard — the replacement for the Brickyard 400 — with a NASCAR Cup Series team still in its infancy. Together, Kaulig Racing and Allmendinger have run just four races during the 2021 campaign, and Sunday’s victory is just the second in Allmendinger’s Cup career.
A résumé that includes 2004 Champ Car Rookie of the Year honors, a 2003 Atlantic Championship, a devastating near-miss in the 2013 Indy 500 and various other close calls, now has the type of memorable victory at the world’s most famous racetrack that elevates the 39-year-old into a different class.
But five, 10, 20 or 50 years into the future, it will serve as a footnote to a race created nearly a year ago as Roger Penske’s first major experiment in his IMS track ownership. Through his first 19 months in charge of IMS and IndyCar, Penske has fought tooth and nail to keep a track and a series alive amid a once-in-a-century pandemic and has, so far, come away with an ever-growing, thriving series and a race venue that was bustling with energy, excitement and intrigue Sunday morning.
It started with the Brickyard 400
In 1994, then-owner Tony George finally opened the track’s gates to the world of stock cars, permitting them to run on the world’s most famous oval at a time when the world’s most famous race may have been at or near its peak. Those were the days when overhead shots of IMS on the Sunday of Memorial Day weekend couldn't find untouched swaths of grass. The crowd was too big.
And for a few years in the Brickyard 400’s infancy, it, too, took central Indiana and the racing world by storm, with the grandstands that now hold 250,00 nearly full. The racing was great, or as good as it could have been expected on the “asphalt rectangle.” Before long, though, NASCAR’s technological developments and regulations created a form of racing that many have long deemed untenable.
Though a not-so-quiet fraternity of veteran drivers have long staked their claim that any racing on the IMS oval has and always will be worth what it takes to have that opportunity in the first place, the powers that be – Penske and the France family – finally ruled nearly a year ago that change had to come.
In late-September of last year, NASCAR announced that, for the first time, and after what appeared to be a rousing success for its Xfinity series in July of last year, the Cup field would tackle the IMS road course and put the series’ oval history in Speedway on pause. After spending an initial $15 million during 2020 to bring the infrastructure of IMS up to his "Penske Perfect" standards, Penske spent another five-plus-million in recent months, including bolstering the road course’s curbs for this weekend’s impending stock car races.
Deeper investigation in the coming days by officials from Penske Entertainment Corp. and NASCAR will determine whether those curbs – particularly around Turns 5 and 6 on the road course – were the cause of Sunday’s late-race hysteria that ultimately saw nearly a dozen cars lost to the carnage, or whether it was repeated driver error, a poor racing series-track marriage, or some combination of all three.
Immediately after Allmendinger’s race, the driver who had a front seat for much of the wreckage that took place mid-pack near the end of Sunday’s race didn’t yet have an answer.
“I think it’s tough with these cars. I get it, in the sense we’ve all got to race to the limits of the track, but when these (cars) get out of control, you’re along for the ride at times,” Allmendinger said post-race. “In IndyCar, you can save and correct a little, but you need room to be able to maneuver (stock cars) and make a mistake and still get away with it.
“With these curbs, you pay a price, and we saw that when you hit it wrong, that’s a lot of money these team owners have to go through. Sitting under red, I looked over and thought, ‘Holy moly, we’ve gone through a lot.’ But it’s our job not to run over it that way. It’s a fine line, and this track doesn’t allow for much.”
Hints of issues in Xfinity action
On Saturday, the Xfinity series dealt with issues with what’s called a turtle curb that was inserted on the outer left side of Turn 6. On the first lap of the Pennzoil 150, several cars ran too wide a launched into the air and flew yards down the track. For Sunday, NASCAR removed that and left the traditional curb along the turn’s border, along with one on the right that, theoretically, would prevent cars from cutting straight through Turns 5 and 6.
The ideal racing line through that section was already nearly a straight line, and the closer you could get to the curb, the more speed you could keep, but a straight line a few feet the wrong way sent drivers soaring.
“That was wild during the end,” Kyle Larson said. “I couldn’t always see where I was going, and it was really easy to get off-line there a little bit.”
With 10 laps to go, NASCAR called a caution for debris in Turn 6. With most of the field pitting, series vet Denny Hamlin took over the race lead with Hendrick Motorsports’ trio of Chase Elliott, William Byron and Larson not far behind on fresh tires.
With five to go, Martin Truex Jr. spun following Turn 6, but as watchful eyes saw him skid down the track, they missed the debris cloud stemming from the Turn 6 curb that was nearing a breaking point. The next lap, Byron, running in the top-10, ran over it, and his 3,400-pound machine turned the metal curbing into something more like paper.
Nearly a dozen cars spun behind him, with some days ending in the tire barriers and others with thrashed bumpers and side panels at-best. After a nearly hour-long red/yellow flagged period – delayed by oil leakage from James Davison – the first of two overtimes took place after IMS’s AMR safety team removed the problem curb.
But the one that could still send cars visibly airborne existed, and the risk-reward dilemma still weighed enough in favor of taking risks. Michael McDowell went airborne, sending another pileup into motion.
At that point, some in the paddock wondered whether NASCAR and IMS would elect to finish the 200-mile experiment at all.
Though not without more spun out, busted cars, they did, and Allmendinger was left kissing the bricks.
But not without more questions than answers for a track and a series that knew it was taking a risk with its controversial move. Entering Sunday, two-time defending Brickyard champ Kevin Harvick called it “just another race,” and Kurt Busch said sliding around the track felt like racing in a parking lot.
The inaugural Verizon 200 by no means lacked in viral clips and quotes or memorable moments, and its second edition won’t be seen as “another race” on the calendar by teams and fans alike. Intrigue will no doubt follow, but not with the sparks Penske and NASCAR had in mind.