PENSKE BOOKING IT?

"Before success comes in any man's life he's sure to meet with much temporary defeat and, perhaps, some failures. When defeat overtakes a man the easiest and the most logical thing to do is to quit. That's exactly what the majority of men do." Napoleon Hill, 1883-1970

The inside skinny floating in Rolex Series rumor mills suggests Penske Racing, having now cleared a so-so 2009 Rolex Sports Car Series season, will not return for another.

Has Roger Penske become so inured of winning that he runs at the first sign of defeat?

LOSING A WAR
War can be ended, it seems, in many different ways when Merriam Webster enters the picture.

An "armistice" is a generalized cessation of hostilities and usually is viewed as a temporary condition, even though Nov. 11, 1918's Armistice Day generally is recognized as the end of The War To End All Wars. Nevertheless, World War I officially ended with the Treaty of Versailles, signed in June 1919 (which also, in hindsight, was the beginning of World War II or the Still Larger War To End All Wars that, of course, no more ended war than did Richard Gatling's gun - invented nearly 80-years earlier during the U.S. War Between The States - "render future war unthinkable.")

To "vanquish" is the conquering of an antagonist or, more plainly, one kicking another's butt.

"Surrender" is yielding oneself to the authority of another, and is how WWII is largely seen as having ended, though at different times on two fronts (Europe and Pacific, respectively).

Then there's "acquiesce," which The World According To Webster defines as "to accept or comply tacitly or passively: accept as inevitable or indisputable" and which, mixed with a dash of "surrender" and tad of "gives up" sounds most like that which rumor suggests Penske Racing as now undertaking.

GRAND-AM'S 2009 RULES QUAGMIRE
Grand-Am's competition bulletin-issuance hit a series' high-water mark in 2009, having easily eclipsed those issued in any previous single season and, for good measure, more than that of many combined seasons.

A few factors were at work - principal among which was an administration's desire to assure competitors a level playing field - but it's likely a few other factors were also at work.

All, for sure, involved humans. And humans err. That's just the way it is.

Porsche erred when it sent engines, sans complete exhaust systems, to be tested on Grand-Am's dynamometer; series officials erred when they tested those engines "as-was" and consequently produced false positives.

Series' staff and, ultimately, competition manager David Spitzer tried only to tweak the formula just enough to balance it, looking to do so through a gear change here, an RPM adjustment there and, initially, extra ballast that still remains even though the other changes came full circle by season's end.

It was that "full circle" which seemed to most bother Penske Racing and The Captain hisownself. Series' detractors often saw only Penske's Porsche as being "harmed" while conveniently overlooking likewise-affected Brumos Porsche's two-car inventory, if nothing else but to illogically damn NASCAR's France family - principals in both the series and the team (altogether ignoring other sanctioning-series' "families" having similar overlapping interests).

From top to bottom, even Penske personnel at times expressed belief the team was alone singled out, though Brumos Racing's No. 58 driver David Donohue, team consultant Gary Nelson and Brumos chief Hurley Haywood hardly believed so.

In a convenient oversight that smacks of factual cherry picking, series' detractors claimed the Brumos team was the recipient of favoritism whereas at the Rolex 24 Penske Racing experienced gearbox/transaxle failures (of a manufacturer different from that used by Brumos) and had drivers who in at least three subsequent races blew excellent race positions because they couldn't or wouldn't get their minds around a recognized rule - one followed by a clear majority of the series' other drivers.

HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN GOING ON?
"War" can last, give or take, as little as about 38-minutes (while many might be inclined in a first choice to go with the 1967 Arab-Israeli Six Day War, this writer favors 1896's Anglo-Zanzibar War).

War also has been known to span generations: Le Guerre de Cent Ans lasted roughly 116 years, including timeouts, but distilled by historians and those who were there at the time it came in at an even 100 years. The Irish and Scots fought the British for so long everyone lost count.

(And people, especially U.S. citizens, nowadays think an eight-year war inordinately long. Is such the result of the computer-game age; our want of 15-second microwaved hotdogs; Wall Street's emphasis on quickly maximized earnings; or, the desire not to end it quickly and decisively with one, well-placed nuke?)

Yet, whatever its length, a cessation of hostilities often involves either a flat-out trounce or people just flat-out giving up, as some claim did boxer Roberto Duran in his retroactively named "No Mas Fight" with Sugar Ray Leonard.

Still, unless honoring some otherwise imposed time-limit rule, individuals, singly or in concert largely decide when a war's “lost”; some running at the mere thought of defeat, while others accept and become strengthened through weathering adversity. (A Marine's sword, though largely iron, is steeled by heat.)

For instance, take Penn State's Joseph Vincent Paterno, now clearly the winningest coach thus far seen in college football (Florida's Urban Meyer, having just won his 50th game, would be the choice of many to follow suit; he only needs, oh, another 400-or-so wins) and had Paterno allowed a referee's final whistle or disgruntled fans to signal his war's end, Papa Joe would've been gone long ago.

In 2004, after years of across-the-board disappointment, many former fans were willing to help pack Papa Joe's bags and even help put him on the next train out of University Park. Coach Paterno, now 82-years old, at the time had already steered previous Penn State teams to numerous national and conference championships, five undefeated seasons and a host of bowl games (long before a bowl existed for every letter in the alphabet) but nevertheless was told by detractors it was time to end his career "gracefully, with head still held high."

In a 2004 New York Times story Paterno instead told author Pat Jordan, "I want to get this thing back where it belongs. I can't get out of it like this."

Today, it's pretty safe to say the Nittany Lions are starting to again figure in national championships.

During that time of turmoil Penn State could've elected to end Paterno's "Grand Experiment" - wherein high value is placed on morals, discipline, character and academic achievement over winning - and altogether shut down the football program. Sure, Beaver Stadium would've looked very lonely and it's doubtful, but school administrators could've.

Yet, neither quit on the other, despite the pressure; despite the embarrassment; despite ... despite ... despite ...

For each, the "war" wasn't and still isn't over, because you can bet your sweet bippy that when Papa Joe moves on, no matter the manner, Penn State won't at that time end its football program, either.

No sir, it'll keep fighting. Because while it may lose a season-long battle - or tally four losing seasons in five as the team had when the "Joe Must Go" crowd really hit its stride - the school is far too proud to surrender so easily.

So was Papa Joe.

IS QUITTING IN PENSKE'S DNA?
Roger Penske was a member of the Shaker Heights (Ohio) High football team when a motorcycle accident injured his ankle so badly that doctors strongly considered amputating the joint and its foot, but instead yielded to an eventually successful recovery.

In the aftermath and without physical rehabilitation of the sort regularly available today, Penske recovered enough to become a school football hero by playing a key role in the team's defeat of a longtime rival.

Later, two years after graduating from Lehigh University in 1959 but still carrying a love of speed that as a teenager put him in a hospital, Penske was named Sports Illustrated’s SCCA Driver of the Year; a year later, adding The New York Times' driver-of-the-year award.

Noting that the reader likely already has a decent idea of Penske's racing team ownership role, in the time period between winning his first major race while a Lehigh student in 1958 and solely focusing on team ownership in 1966, as a driver Penske would stand on podiums in nearly half of all races entered, finishing under power in more than 75-percent of the more than 100-races he started.

On the flip side, Penske's first-year foray into big-time sportscar racing ownership could've been prettier.

Fielding a Chevrolet Corvette Grand Sport for Dick Guldstrand, Ben Moore and George Winterstein in the 1966 24-hour Daytona Continental ended well enough, finishing first in class (GT+3000), but the team's GS got hung out to dry at Sebring when driver Dick Thompson (co-driving with Guldstrand) got bumped so far off track that he took out a nearby home's clothesline. The, um, "excursion" also tore a little oil-pan hole that after a return to the track eventually bled dry and cooked the engine in the mid-afternoon Florida sun.

(The reader's surely seen cars, race or otherwise, which developed gobs of torque and, when accelerator pedal slammed against floorboard metal, would attempt to scoot a car's rear-end beneath its front, producing massive, absolutely massive launches of a car's front clip and wheels high into the air. One regularly sees such in drag-racers. Penske's GS Corvette had a Traco 427 in it. And did it ever "lift" but, when settled down, also scooted. A.J. Foyt, driving a Ford MkII at Sebring in '66, in the 1980's at Daytona recalled the GS as being "the fastest damn dinosaur I've ever seen. It'd blow by me on a straight like I was standing still." The car's biggest problem, though, arose in cornering. "That's where I returned the favor," Foyt said, referring the Ford's superior aerodynamics.)

Later in 1966, Penske and Mark Donohue (father of racer David, just in case no one is aware) teamed to campaign a Lola T70 MkII and still later, a MkIII in the Can-Am and United States Road Racing Championship sports car series -    winning two-consecutive USRRC championships and three SCCA Trans-Am titles.

The fuse was lit and life was good, especially after the duo in 1972 would win the first of Penske Racing's 15 Indy 500 trophies.

Then, on August 19, 1975, Mark Donohue – by then one of Penske's closest friends - died the day after his March 751 F1 car careened off-course at the Österreichring while practicing for the Austrian Grand Prix.

Roger Penske didn't walk from racing. Not that he financially couldn't have. He just didn't.

Fast-forward to 1994. By then, Penske's drivers had picked up another eight Borg-Warner Trophies - already as a team owner doing what no other had previously accomplished at Indianapolis.

At that year's race Team Penske drivers Al Unser Jr. (race winner; led 48 laps) and Emerson Fittipaldi (17th place; Lap-185 oversteer-induced crash; led 145 laps) led a combined 193 of the annual race's 200 laps - a race during which only one other driver, race-rookie Jacques Villeneuve, scored laps at the head of a field in which he'd eventually finish second (led seven laps; Forsythe/Green Racing).

In 1995, after first trying with his Mercedes-powered chassis, then borrowing Lolas from other teams, Fittipaldi and Unser failed to make the Indy 500 field. Admitting it to be one of the lower points in his racing career, Penske would not return to Indianapolis until 2001 - winning the race with a rookie driver named Helio Castroneves.

While at the time U.S. open-wheel's underlying currents - more like a riptide, actually - were speeding toward a chasm opened between CART and the embryonic Indy Racing League, Penske still didn't surrender in 1995 when he walked from a bitter but nonetheless rules-induced defeat at Indianapolis - rules which were specifically aimed at Penske Racing's rightly or wrongly perceived 1994 "unfair advantage" when the team, using Mercedes pushrod engines, purely and surely dominated the Indy 500.

Indeed, since his 2001 Indy 500 win, Penske won another four Indy 500 trophies - including 2009’s with Castroneves (his third) at the wheel.

And that's principally why Penske Racing isn't going anywhere.

It just isn't in the man's character to quit.

Later,

DC