Building a Better IndyCar in the Wake of Dan Wheldon's Passing

Thanks to my years as an IndyCar blogger, I was fortunate enough to have met Dan Wheldon more than once. He was fantastic company—always smiling, more than willing to take pictures or chat up fans, and actually gave me my first PR contact in the sport at Watkins Glen in 2010. He was affable, witty, charming—many things that folks who knew him far better than I will assure you, and probably already have.

I'm not here to harp on those brief memories that I had with him, however. I've had those therapy sessions with folks already. In fact, I just got through with one before sitting down here to write. I'm not done grieving, by any means, and neither is anybody else. But I'm ready to take stock of what happened on Sunday, and try to glean some immediate lessons from it, as tough as that may be.

It seems a bit cynical to try and do so right away. Then again, I have a friend who used to live and race in England, Dan's home country. He told me that everything over there was very "stiff upper lip"—that you carry on because there isn't much else to do. Yes, there is grieving, but grieving doesn't take precedence over pushing forward. The thought process is, so-and-so would want you to push on instead of spending too much time being sad over his loss, so go out and do it. I'm fairly certain that Dan, for all of his joking boastfulness about his skill in a racecar, would have said the exact same thing. And it is in his honor that I will try to do so.

But that doesn't mean we ever carry on the same way. Dan's life and career will leave an everlasting legacy upon all of us. The tributes and memorials are already pouring in. The Gold Coast 600, a premier Australian V8 Supercars event, has named the trophy for best international co-driver the Dan Wheldon Trophy. Some have suggested that IndyCar's Most Popular Driver trophy be named in his honor as well. Next year's IndyCar, a Dallara chassis which he spent much of this season developing, will be named and dedicated in his honor.

And it is with that new, hopefully much safer, car we should start to apply these lessons. The safety requirements, already extensive compared to years and cars past, must be even more stringent, as they were in NASCAR after the passing of Dale Earnhardt.

But, what most particularly concerns me, is the propensity for these cars to simply take off, especially when they rear-end other cars. That's an inevitability with the way that open-wheel cars are built and, hopefully, the covered rear wheels will alter that significantly. But I wonder if nothing else can be done to keep the front end low to the ground at those speeds, in the event of a collision.

I do know this: any criticism that I once had of the height of the roll hoop on the new Dallara has disappeared. I thought it was ugly, something that made the new car look like Hot Wheels' ugly Formula 1 models from the 1990s. Now I realize its necessity. Imagine if the roll hoop on the old car had been even lower.

On the subject of the track itself, Las Vegas Motor Speedway, many have questioned the necessity of running oval races with IndyCar at all. Most notably, five-time NASCAR champion Jimmie Johnson, admittedly out of concern for his many friends in the IndyCar paddock, thinks that the cars are too fast and too unstable for such an environment.

Johnson is right about the ovals on which he normally races—the cookie-cutter, banked, 1.5-mile tri-ovals that dominate the Sprint Cup circuit. They're too small, especially for a 34-car field like the one that raced on Sunday. The cars are too fast, hitting the same speeds as they do at the series' biggest track, the flat, 2.5-mile Indianapolis Motor Speedway. But the Indianapolis 500 alone dictates that IndyCars can never disavow ovals permanently. The 500 will not be run on a road course.

But racing on the right type of oval is not worth striking from the schedule just because of an accident on the wrong type. Pack racing cannot be done with open-wheel cars—the risk is too great. But on big, less banked superspeedways like Indianapolis, Michigan and California, where the pack has enough room to spread out and split up, the high speed events aren't as bad. Same with the shorter, flat ovals like Phoenix, Milwaukee and New Hampshire, which almost handle like road courses.

Regardless of the track, though, from ovals to road and street courses, the catchfences that surround the racing surface must also be looked at. While protecting the fans from being victims of an even worse catastrophe, the harsh reality is that these fences do even more to tear up racecars. Paul Tracy, an oft-controversial voice but also one of the most experienced drivers in the sport, suggested something akin to plexiglass on the inside of the fence to put a damper on that. That may not be the most practical answer, but something has to change.

Safety, as NASCAR driver Jeff Burton described it, is an effort. And although effort has been made for the most part, we will still have accidents. But, we need to further reduce the possibility for catastrophic incidents like these. Too many drivers—top names like Tracy, Tony Kanaan and Will Power among them—have admitted to rethinking their career in this discipline right now. And that must change.

I know that it seems incredibly quick for us to have any, if not all, of these thoughts. They should play second fiddle to remembering the person that Dan was, for sure. But do remember that Dan was a great development driver, keenly interested in what would make IndyCar racing better. That's why he was chosen to develop the new car. And it is in his spirit of continuous improvement to the on-track product that I offer these suggestions.

But, most importantly, we must remember one other thing. Yes, Dan Wheldon died doing what he loved, but IndyCar racing was not Dan's only love. He was a family man; he and wife Susie had two children, two-year-old Sebastian and six-month-old Oliver. In fact, Dan and Susie had just gotten tattoos of each other's initials on their wrists the night before the accident.

Go hug somebody you love today. Go tell them that you love them. You never know when they'll be taken from you. Keep Dan's family in your thoughts and prayers. Grieve. Mourn. But don't forget to come back, because Dan would've gotten on your case if you stayed down too long. Learn from his passing. Carry on in his memory. That's the best way to honor him.