This isn’t Latvian Formula 3... THIS is the IZOD IndyCar Series. The most absurdly challenging open-wheel discipline on the planet. So, as a fan, every time I see a driver whip out his tiny bottle of bubbly and attempt to celebrate a hard-earned victory, as Mr. Judd did last weekend, I feel like donning a dress.It’s embarrassing. IndyCar may not be ruling the popularity wars just yet but, as the saying goes, “act like you’ve been there before.”
With props to you, Mr. Bernard, for your accomplishments, thus far, and with due respect, my charge to you is to allow that champion to wrap his hands around something that turns the dudes green with envy and the ladies rosy with embarrassment—in other words, CHAMPAGNE SHOCK AND AWE.
A monumental magnum of the authentic stuff (or a nice domestic sparkling wine, would also be lovely) that allows the winner to put his full manhood on display and bathe those adoring fans, over and over again, in the shared fruits of victory—a bottle that shadows Wilson and Rahal... one that Viso could swim in.
Not too much to ask, I dare say. I’m confident there’s a plethora of fine vintners out there that would leap at the chance to provide the goods, F.O.C., in exchange for a bit of pub with the Series.
Are there bigger fish to fry? Nope. It's a small thing, but one that will make a measurable difference in the perception of IndyCar.
Cheers.
—JM
