It was going on 4:00 AM Sunday morning when we finally paid tribute to a fallen friend. Because there in some crazed campground outside of the Speedway, we honored the life & death of IndyCar in Chicago — and we did it in our own inebriated fashion: by senselessly burning anything resembling fuel. We torched most of our tents & also a railroad tie we found & various electronic goods, among other things. And as we stood around the noble funeral pyre taking turns eulogizing the departed, massive PLUMES of black (and certainly toxic) smoke filled the Joliet sky. Bill Withers’ “Lovely Day” blared from the speakers, but that was not by design. It was a moment. It was a glorious tribute befitting a life well lived, and if throngs of downwind campers awoke in the morning freshly paralyzed & genderless, so be it. Sacrifices are necessary on these occasions.
Because this race — this trip — had become THE seminal moment of the IndyCar season for us. More than the Indy 500, frankly. And now it is gone. Likely forever. The good ones always leave too soon — and yet Mid-Ohio lives eternally, like one of those giant turtles at the zoo that never die.
The otherwise festive atmosphere had grown a bit morose as we began shutting it down for the night. Some still had functioning tents, but not me. Not most of us. We lied there in the grass wondering aloud what was next. Short of a wire fraud conviction and a stint in Joliet’s lockup, we shan’t be returning to these parts. Ever. What would become our NEW Chicago? Where will we go? Texas, perhaps? Iowa? Would it be the same? Would it still be the wondrous & magical event that this had always been? Probably not, we concluded. Certainly not. How it could it be? A sorrowful & collective sigh was quickly followed by sleep, but it was not restful. It’s always darkest before etcetera etcetera, I suppose.
Because there at daybreak, an odd & wonderful thing happened. There was rustling in one of the few tents not set ablaze hours earlier, and it was silhouetted by brilliant & piercing sunshine. There were terrible rumblings from inside its walls, all panicked and groan-y, the sounds of wickedness. We were all awake because of it, watching with painfully squinted, confused vision. We said nothing. Everything was still. It was captivating theater. It would become more so.
Because the tent took on the persona of a regal Gypsy horse or your mom, and she was pregnant! With our friend! The majesty of Nature was revealing Herself before our blurry & awestruck eyes. The tent door became a birthing canal as a trembling leg poked through. And then an arm! And then another leg, followed awkwardly by the torso and the other arm. Newborn colts typically do not emerge from the womb wearing awful tighty whiteys, but this one did. (IT’S A BOY!!!) At long last, the head emerged & he was free!! He had survived the taxing ordeal, but he did not prosper. That much was certain. He was whimpering incoherently & trembling. We remained silently awestruck.
Completely unaware of his surroundings, the poor little guy was lathered in grotesque birthing fluid(?) as he struggled to keep his footing. Like any newborn colt, he was totally blind and had no real motor skills to speak of. Or balance. Or coordination. He took one clumsy step and promptly tripped over a cooler. Felled by a Coleman 40-quart, he remained face-first in the grass too exhausted to move. Being born is never easy.
The symbolism was not lost on us. Nor the humor.
The death of Chicagoland was mourned festively & with great vigor, but it was mourned nonetheless. We went to sleep broken-hearted — we awoke laughing uncontrollably & with a renewed sense of optimism.
Death is unavoidable, yes — but so too is birth. Circle of life and all that. Because while Chicagoland is gone forever, something else will emerge. It always does. And we will make an event of it — a wondrous, debauchery-laced trip full of merriment & facial lacerations. We will go to Texas or Iowa or Kentucky or some other track we’ve never been … some place we wouldn’t otherwise go had this race not been murdered. It won’t be just like Chicagoland, but so what? It can be equally spectacular — maybe even more so — but in entirely different ways. We at last understood this, and decided that we will not go gently into that Chicago-less schedule. Nor will we go dejectedly. Quite the opposite.
Because there against backdrop of a sun-drenched Illinois cornfield, that regal tent gave birth to a 200-pound & spectacularly hungover gent named Tom who had no earthly business being alive. That was the least of what it gave us.
By Rodger, August 30, 2010 @ 12:50 pm
again a great column! We too mourn the fact that NASCAR is doing this to us; As if, they don’t have the auto-racing world by the jock…pricks.
By Rick, August 30, 2010 @ 1:06 pm
I feel the pain. One season back in the CART days I went to 4 different races-short oval, big oval, road course, street course-and slept in my own bed the same night. And that was even with skipping Cleveland. It wasn’t that long ago that there were 3, 4, or more open-wheel races within a day’s drive and return of my current address. Last year there were 2. This year there was 1. Next year… Well, I really don’t know what I’ll do. Besides weep.
What happened? Where did all the races go?
By Tom G., August 30, 2010 @ 1:27 pm
Was it just me, or was the Battle Hymn of the Republic playing softly in the background during the WTR?
No, do not go gentle into that good night Pagodians! Wherever Indycar goes we shall follow! With our water bongs, our paint thinner, and our spatulas! Whether it’s a corn field in Iowa, a Sao Paolo favela, or a Freeway Underpass in Long Beach, we will be there setting stuff on fire, and wondering what bodily fluid stains those are exactly on Hobbson’s sleeping bag.
Chicagoland is dead.
Long live Chicagoland!
By pressdog, August 30, 2010 @ 1:37 pm
manly tears
By Larry Phelps, August 30, 2010 @ 2:13 pm
Anybody know a talented maxillofacial surgeon in Chicago? My jaw is definitely broken after trying to carry that railroad tie. I’m an idiot.
By Rodger, August 30, 2010 @ 2:19 pm
and I forgot to mention one of the sights and some of the sounds from the campground-for-racers was the writer and his bunch trying to figure out how to get up a pardon-the expression “pop-up-awning” I admire that bunch because they said the heck with it, wadded it up and went on with the preparations for race watching.
The IU fans around were hoping they would put out a Purdue chair while going thru those antics.
By Johnny Montona, August 30, 2010 @ 2:20 pm
Blew my eardrums out holding in the riotous laughter, for fear of disturbing the other inmates. A small price to pay for the amusement… well done.
By Jason McVeigh, August 30, 2010 @ 2:22 pm
I’m crying twice the tears of everyone since I’ve yet to attend a gathering of Pagodians and probably will never attend an Indycar race at Chicagoland. If I can’t watch a tent give birth to a man beast then what’s the point following Indycar racing anymore? (Weeping to self)
By BP, August 30, 2010 @ 3:14 pm
Just beginning deliberations in the Great Pagoda Hunt of 2011:
While you would think that 190-proof Everclear would be available in the Grain Capital of America, only 151-proof can be bought in Iowa.
Everything is bigger in Texas.
By DZ, August 30, 2010 @ 4:53 pm
“He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster. And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.”
-Friedrich Nietzsche
“The highest order of mind is accused of folly, as well as the lowest. Nothing is thoroughly approved but mediocrity. The majority has established this, and it fixes its fangs on whatever gets beyond it either way.”
-Blaise Pascal.
I don’t really have any idea what these quotes have to do with Indycar, other than they are old, wordy, and a bit confusing, but I think you all have come to expect that from my comments.
The ‘monsters’ and ‘fangs’ and ‘mediocrity’ parts remind me of NASCAR and makes me wonder if ISC will see a Karmic retribution for its eschewing of glorious Indycars. I only hope we’re there to see that day.
Surely Ioway would ne’er turn it’s back upon us, the outcast?
By DZ, August 30, 2010 @ 5:00 pm
PS: Beautifully writ, this day your prose Mr. Hobbson.
By Susan Rae, August 30, 2010 @ 5:43 pm
“Is this Heaven? No, it’s Iowa”. Come on over, boys. ‘Cause we’re all that… and more. After all the Adult Superstore is right on up the road. Newton’s got it all!
By The Speedgeek, August 30, 2010 @ 6:08 pm
In my opinion, nothing goes better with creosote fires and mayhem than pork chops. Next year’s Remote Pagoda location really oughta be Iowa. And if it is, I’ll promise to bring all the flamable goods that my car can carry.
By cappy, August 30, 2010 @ 6:21 pm
“I brought you into this world, Tom – and I can take you out of it!” -The Tent
By Jason McVeigh, August 30, 2010 @ 6:40 pm
I’m all for Iowa being the place that Hobbson leads the Pagodians next year. Imagine the debauchery that would be unleashed in corn fields if allowed to play with tractors, pitchforks and assorted critters. I’m soooo there.
By SP, August 30, 2010 @ 6:57 pm
The guilt is consuming me!!! I can’t remember who Tom is, but I probably supplied him beer and hard liquor. I am sure the cigarettes didn’t help him either. Oh, I feel so guilty… Sorry, Tom. Sorry, Roy. Let’s do it again next year.
By irlfan360, August 30, 2010 @ 8:38 pm
This is what Randy told several of the drivers in IndyCar right before the command to start engines:
“Good evening. In less than an hour, IndyCars from here will join others from around the league. And you will be launching the largest wheel to wheel battle in the history of IndyCar. “IndyCar.” That word should have new meaning for all of us today. We can’t be consumed by our petty differences anymore. We will be united in our common interests. Perhaps it’s fate that today is the last Chicagoland Race, and you will once again be fighting for our freedom… Not from tyranny, oppression, or persecution… but from annihilation. We are fighting for our right to race. To exist at this track. And should you win the day, Chicagoland will no longer be known as an IndyCar Race, but as the day that IndyCar declared in one voice: “We will not go quietly into the night!” We will not vanish without a fight! We’re going to live on! We’re going to survive! Today we celebrate….well crap…I guess there isn’t much to celebrate. This is our last run at this track folks”.
So much for giving up without a fight….
By Bob, August 30, 2010 @ 9:00 pm
You guys need to come to Kentucky.
By irlfan360, August 30, 2010 @ 9:04 pm
Bob, I’ll be there come hell or high water…for me, hell being the more logical outcome…
By Todd Watson, August 30, 2010 @ 9:34 pm
No “afterbirth” dribbled out with him, did it? “Afterbirth” with a nice perky rack?
By Oilpressure, August 30, 2010 @ 10:10 pm
What else is there to add?
Bravo, Roy. Well done, young man!
By Christopher Leone, August 31, 2010 @ 12:27 am
Thank you for this, Roy. Hopefully I can join y’all out in Iowa next year.
And yes, Chicagoland will be sorely missed, but like the original singer of AC/DC, can be replaced with something very similar that’s almost as good. I’m sure of it.
By lazlo, August 31, 2010 @ 8:02 pm
Professionally twisted. Well done, sir.
Ps – I told you that Coleman lantern fluid would be a big hit…
By Savage Henry, September 2, 2010 @ 1:43 pm
Not since Hunter S. Thompson’s “Wave Speech” has such a profound and beautiful epitaph been given to something which delivered much in a short time but died too young.
By Weevil96, September 7, 2010 @ 11:32 pm
I-O-WA! I-O-WA! I-O-WA! I-O-WA!