So, here yours truly sits, trying his best to write The Best Sports Car Racing Book Yet Written (no, it’s not going to be a “coffee table” book having more pretty pictures than intellectual challenges) while coincidentally producing a companion The Best Sportscar TV Series Yet Broadcast (which won’t have intellectual challenges of any sort, being mindless, anti-Egbert Roscoe Murrow TV at its finest) and, still yet (one of my favorite words, yet) devise and implement in support of the preceding an accompanying cutting-edge media juggernaut spreading across multiple electronic mediums, the object of which to separate as many clueless souls as is possible from hard-earned money, when in the midst of it all up walks someone (aware of the aforementioned projects, by the way) who says with a completely straight face, “I haven’t seen anything on your blog lately; you slacking?”
Not as pertains run-on sentences, certainly.
To top it off, “The King’s Speech” enters the fray absent of nekkid women (and “Daisy Dukes,” too), slapstick, The Dude (a recent Oscar winner) or George Clooney (this writer was tempted to instead cite “Patrick Dempsey,” he being familiar to many in this part of the sports world, but he’s well-liked over here).
The “Speech” flick being about some other dude named “George” who tries and successfully overcomes a stutter. Accompanying that accomplishment are 12 Academy Award nominations and has now caused the trashing of the aforementioned “Best . . . Sports Car. . .” book’s screenplay which, of course, had nekkid women (and “Daisy Dukes,” too), slapstick and Patrick Dempsey (as previously noted, well liked on this side of the sporting world) in the lead role.
I mean, can we get real, here?
Giving immediate birth to Rolex 24 At Daytona “team orders” rumors was the second place overall-finishing No. 02 Target/TELMEX BMW-Riley (at right, just after sunrise Sunday) with the driving crew of Dario Franchitti, Juan Pablo Montoya and Jamie McMurray.
Settling into chairs upon the Daytona International Speedway Media Center’s post-race interview stage – the fourth chair noticeably empty – the first question posed of the three: “Where’s Scott (Dixon)?” he being the team’s fourth and race-closing driver (pictured below).
“He’s got a stomach ache,” McMurray answered with a laugh which, like an automatic gun’s unleashed firing pin set off laughter from Montoya and Franchitti; the “joke’s” import being largely lost on the other 200-or-so folks in the media room.
For far too long their giddy laughter continued as each took turns cracking inside jokes about Dixon’s stomach ailment with few, if any among the assembled media throng “getting it.” Really, we even asked around. Yet, with some semblance of understanding at hand, it was a long, long race that could’ve made anyone crack.
Seriously pursued between guffaws, coming only from those sitting upon the stage, was a line of questioning concerning Dixon’s health, each being answered with some variation on the inside-joke theme.
So, what’s a motorsports journalist supposed to think at that moment?
“Fix.”
More often quaintly termed as “team orders,” did the assembled media suddenly become witnesses to the first moment of future history? Perhaps the kind of future history which when loosed likely will result in the messenger’s injury as much as anything? Whack a dog’s nose enough and he’ll chill, you know?
The reader perhaps remembers former F1 driver Nelson Piquet Junior’s primary transgression (the whole of the matter detailed here) which, boiled to its essence, had the junior Piquet ex post facto (it’s in The Constitution, look it up) reporting skullduggery to the Fédération Internationale de l'Automobile (FIA) that involved his team having ordered a crash during the 2008 Singapore Grand Prix chiefly benefitting the other Renault driver, 2005-2006 F1 champ Fernando Alonso.
After a “substantial” settlement of such nature that it reportedly would allow Piquet to field his own F1 team (for one, maybe two races), Piquet today is nevertheless driving a truck for a living.
“We do issue team orders to our drivers prior to any race and series in which any of our drivers compete,” Mike Hull, right-hand man to Chip Ganassi (far right, with Scott Pruett at 2010 Mid-Ohio EMCO Gears Classic), said just hours short of two weeks after the Rolex 24, won by still another Chip Ganassi Racing w/ Hermanos Felix y José Sabates Daytona Prototype, the No. 01 TELMEX/Target BMW-Riley 
driven by Scott Pruett, Memo Rojas, Joey “Five-Fingers” Hand and Graham Rahal.
“For the Rolex 24 at Daytona we had a rare opportunity to deliver those orders to all of our drivers at the same time,” Hull added.
“Hey, that’s really nice and all but that’s starting to sound a tad evasive,” said an undaunted, if not downright foolish reporter to a suddenly fiery eyed Hull.
“Look, off the record . . .”
And that’s where the quote must be interrupted.
Let’s just say that Hull then all but minutely detailed the race’s final 4.5 hours, citing proprietary information that involved various problems and two particularly serious issues arising during one particular Spanish-speaking driver’s shift.
It was Hull’s contention that the team could’ve twice (returning to the record) “brought the car in and fixed it (the problems). We would’ve also lost huge amounts of time to competitors on the track because the (No. 02) Target car didn’t have the luxury of its problems arising in the first part of the race; they didn’t have time to overcome them like the (No. 01) TELMEX car had on Saturday. We made a conscious decision to run, not push the (No. 02) Target car to the end of the race or until it broke and, if necessary, deal with the problems at that time.”
“Keep in mind that at no time until the very end did the race appear to be ours, though it certainly could’ve at any time been ours not to win. With at least three other cars competing with us for the same track space it (the race) could’ve gone in any direction. Plus, we weren’t, still aren’t interested in giving our competitors any advantage or clue as to what we were facing, strategically or otherwise. As far as I know, that’s an expected part of racing.
“We didn’t ask what happened to the (No.) 5 (Action Express Racing, at left stalking MSR’s fourth-place No. 23 Legends of Motorsports) car when it all of a sudden fell off the pace. While we wondered if the same might happen to the (No.) 9 (Action Express Racing) car we didn’t start making inquiries up and down pit road. Frankly, we don’t care now, either, because we don’t have much in common beyond our cars both being Rileys and a suspension, cassis or body problem would’ve had a completely different look to it. The engines and drivetrains and, probably, the gearboxes in our cars are different. But it’s a 24-hour endurance race, for goodness sakes. They’re professionals over there (at AER) and we figure they’ll be back in the game next race.”
So, with half the world and at least the same number of Grand-Am officials feeling the CGR w/F&J Sabates No. 01 TELMEX/Target BMW-Riley car had to have some sort of secret advantage, whether mechanical, electrical or black magic, the Guys In Charge (GIC) felt it best to invoke Grand-Am Sporting Regulations Section 7-9 “Competitive Analysis” wherein “impounded” (another polite term actually meaning “seized”) is the winning car and shipped to NASCAR’s Research and Development facility in Concord, N.C., so as to undertake an “analysis of the performance capabilities of a car, car part or equipment or tires.”
According to one or more of those present the car’s every orifice, cavity, junk and dingleberry was handled, examined, poked, prodded and, in at least one case, assuredly sliced and diced.
No nefarious object, design, practice or dingleberry was found.
Two weeks plus 24 hours (roughly) after the Rolex 24 At Daytona concluded Grand-Am released a statement communicating what many 
already knew and, further, the winning car, having had the functional equivalent of a medical physical (latex gloves, petroleum jelly and all, one supposes), produced “no rule violations.”
Some have said or will say it was a useful exercise; others of a diametric* viewpoint have said or will say the exercise was akin to kissing a sibling. Still others think the dingleberries were there and Grand-Am didn’t look thoroughly enough.
Surprisingly, the results of pre- and post-inspection competitor opinion polls remain virtually unchanged: 33-percent say the Ganassi team has a “secret” (surprisingly, each of those complaining didn’t finish first in the Rolex 24); 33-percent (who likewise failed to finish first in the Rolex 24) didn’t care; and 33.9999…-percent said, “Dingleberries!?” One respondent out there communicated nothing but unprintable words that could’ve applied to any of the three prior categories, or none at all.
In a onetime, limited offer: drivers, engineers and team owners can learn the CGRw/F&J Sabates secret to winning. For a certified answer just send $25,000 in non-sequential U.S. currency “legal for all debts public and private excepting those exceeding $9,999 which then are public” (really, it’s printed right on the Federal Reserve notes . . . well, some of it) or, if you really must, remit a certified cashier’s check along with a return-address, postage-paid envelope to Ol’ DC’s address of record and he’ll simply provide that which everyone evidently seeks. However, be mindful that the certified cashier’s check must first clear before the pre-paid, self stamped envelope is dropped in the mail. Hopefully, with the answer inside and , for a final time, me on the way to St. Kits.
Later,
DC
(*As used, “diametric” is defined, at least according to Webster and every other legitimate dictionary ever printed, as “opposite” and/or “opposed.” Thus, “diametrically opposite” is akin to a double negative, wherein two negatives equal a positive. So stay with one or the other but not both sequentially at the same time.)
