In most families for most of the time an odd dynamic exists between older and younger siblings: The one somehow feels compelled to outdo the other.
On the one hand, an older brother or sister somehow believes he or she must “lead” by example while a younger brother or sister somehow believes it necessary to outshine that older brother or sister so as to “prove” oneself.
A little brother or sister can be, often will be “out-shined” by an older sibling whether by intent or circumstance and, many times, that “intent” originates with parents pitting one against the other at the earliest of ages.
And an older sibling may not have at all asked for that competition; they just happened to “be there” at the time.
Many older siblings have no clue of any “competition” and yet occurring at some very odd moment are damned for its existence. Indeed, once discovered they might not, probably do not even want that competition’s existence.
It can be among nature’s most vicious cycles . . . for there exists a very, very fine line between love and hate.
Ask Cain and Abel.
Okey-dokey, then; Look ‘em up should the reader be unable to “channel” (no, Menendez, not the cable box).
Alternatively, ask Rick and Jordan Taylor.
(By the way, as a dear friend nick-named “Rick” long ago advised after this correspondent misaddressed an envelope to a more formalized but nonetheless misperceived “Richard”: “My name is ‘Frederick.’” So then, what IS “Ricky” Taylor’s proper given name? Is there any such similar question asked of Jordan?)
How about Brian and Burt Frisselle? (And what the heck is a “Burt,” anyway? But we don’t ask that about Brian’s name, huh?)
Hugh and Matt Plumb? (The pair likewise score on the secondary question, too.)
All of the above, sans Cain and Abel (even though the two likely raced camels), are brothers in motorsports – and elsewhere, too.
Then, there are George Dario Marino Franchitti and Marino Alessandro Cesare Franchitti.
In the brotherly pair’s racing existence, Dario’s scored 34 overall wins; Marino, 3.
Of course Marino has “won” more than three times; one needn't dig any farther into history than the 2013 Mobil 1 Sebring 12 Hours to ascertain such. Still, history shows his Level 5 LMP2 “win” came in a secondary class – if one digs deep enough. But outside of that, the Level 5 team is shown as having finished just one position better than at which it qualified: 6th vs. 7th, respectively.
Question: With overall victories in mind, is Dario 11.1333 times better than Marino?
How about “wins vs. attempts?” Dario = 1 in 12.12; Marino 1 in 43.3.
While probable that this writer’s available data may have a hole or two, when existing for analysis are 400 and 130 races for Franchitti and Franchitti, respectively, it’s doubtful a differential of great proportion would exist in the final product.
So then, an old question – as old as Cain and Abel – begs revisiting: Did George Dario Marino Franchitti discernibly exceed the abilities of Marino Alessandro Cesare Franchitti, thus gaining access in quantity and quality to teams, equipment, engines, chassis, tires, engineers and really cool steering wheels?
Or did the younger sibling, Marino Alessandro Cesare Franchitti, suffer a dearth of rides just because he was the younger brother riding some coattails?
Years ago at Daytona International Speedway in the garages located behind the Daytona 500 Club, Elliott Forbes-Robinson, his bride, Lounette, and your humble servant were chatting during a “historic” weekend.
Unexpectedly joining us were George Dario Marino Franchitti, fabulously well-known spouse, Ashley George Dario Marino Franchitti Judd, and a third party whose bald head, when within a couple or three feet, clearly was such largely by genetic design and partially due to a razor’s edge. Introduced to this conversant only as “Marino,” the only patently obvious thing was his hangin’ with Barry Green’s best-yet driver and that driver’s newlywed spouse. Ain't nothin’ new; life’s “third wheels.”
Later in the day and in the same garage from which, it seemed, Ashley George Dario Marino Franchitti Judd didn't seem enamored of vacating (at least, not until “closing time”), George Dario Marino Franchitti would explain Marino Alessandro Cesare Franchitti is, indeed, his “lit-uhl” brother and that he, Marino Alessandro Cesare Franchitti, was hoping to get a stateside ride for the following season after a poor Petite Le Mans during the preceding October.
“Ah, so that’s it,” Ol’ DC says to Ol’ DC. “Big brother - big more-successful brother - is gonna help find kid brother a ride.”
Yep, yours truly did it, too, sorry to say.
And that’s the way Ol’ DC tended to think of Marino Alessandro Cesare Franchitti for too many years to follow.
That is, until Saturday, March 15 at, oh, roughly 10:15 p.m. (22:15 hours) EDT, in a little south-central Florida town whose karma is utterly destroyed many times over whence comes the annual Mobil 1 12 Hours of Sebring.
(The Sebring-area residents are probably much like Daytona Beach’s: It’s largely a welcomed event should one have been raised in the area; not so had someone originated elsewhere. Multi-generational Floridians have a name for such folk, who ride into town and tell us how to do things: “Carpetbaggers.”)
(Still, small isolated Florida towns and cities tend to be insular in thought and morality, though I’m certain the Sebring I knew as a kid no longer is as, um, narrow as once might’ve been the case. However, all that is another story for another type of publication, some day. Not here. Not today.)
Actually, awareness of Marino Alessandro Cesare Franchitti’s ability probably came a little before that, at say 10:13 p.m. EDT. But whenever it came, come it did.
Flatly: Marino Franchitti could've blown winning – outright – the Mobil 1 62nd 12 Hours of Sebring Fueled by Fresh From Florida but didn't.
He could've missed his turn-in, apex and track-out marks, but didn't
.
On the final restart he could've failed to have a properly selected gear, but didn't.
He could've stalled the 3.5-litre, 24-valve, twin-turbocharged Ford EcoBoost engine but didn't.
He could've mistaken “blow” for “go,” but didn't.
He just didn’t do a lot of things wrong when he darn well could've done any one thing wrong and become a goat of massive proportion.
Actually, there are worthy other contenders for race-win honors; among them Ganassi team Director Mike O'Gara.
O'Gara was part of the original Chip Ganassi Racing Grand-Am Rolex Series onslaught (at first done without Felix Sabates, but corrected retroactively before the season was done) in 2004.
Between sometime in 2005, when O'Gara split in his return to open-wheel racing, and March of this year, Tim Keene was Ganassi's Numero Uno on-site guy.
In a pre-Sebring shocker, Keene turned in his keys to the shop. No matter the reason: Keene had played the game pretty darn good. Keene brought home a boatload of wins, championships and walked after having steered the No. 01 Telcel nee Telmex teams to a string of racing records that’ll be around for a long, long time to come.
No matter the reason, O'Gara had some serious shoe-filling to undertake when he returned to the sports car helm at Sebring. In the time he’d been away the team had managed to do some serious derriere kicking and Chip Ganassi isn't exactly fond of the word “retreat!”
Thus, at just after the 11th hour of the 12-hour race there were more than a few folks who thought O'Gara managed to slip on a pair of dancing shoes – as in that which he would wear when he, too, waltzed into the daytime air for the last time through Ganassi's Woodland Drive, Indianapolis shop doors.
This scribe was among those who thought O'Gara unlikely to return to Sebring. So much so, yours truly even ordered some dancing wax to spread on the front sidewalk at the Target Chip Ganassi building because at Sebring, O'Gara had at his disposal a couple of driving superstars who in 2014 were to the No. 01 TelCel Ford EcoBoost Riley as Dan Gurney and A.J. Foyt were to the No. 1 Ford GT40 MkIV in 1967.
In general, the more incredulous among the observers wondered not so much how Memo Rojas or Scott Pruett could win as much as how either of that pair could possibly lose in a car they've together called their racing home since 2007.
Pruett, easily one of the more underrated drivers in modern times, rarely screws up. He certainly can and has certainly done so, but such is rare. Very rare. If there was anyone who is steadfast in manor and upon whom can be counted in pressure situations, it’s Pruett. He’s proved such time and again.
For a guy who at first in 2007 appeared little more than your standard accomplished bumbler – and thereby providing fuel for bigoted types – Rojas has not throw away what amounted to a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to learn from a master and well suffered that tutelage. From a youngster who could mash the gas and go with abandon (and did), Rojas under Pruett has matured into another steadfast driver who can be counted upon, not counted out.
If Pruett and Rojas are considered a couple, O'Gara went for the car’s third wheel, the odd man out who’ll really be “out” when time comes for the TUDOR United SportsCar Championship sprint-race schedule. He might even be “out” when time comes for The Glen’s 6-hour race, if the Ganassi team’s past tendencies are taken into consideration and followed.
On the other hand, Marino Franchitti, that “little brother to Dario Franchitti,” should no longer need that extra weight appended to his name, for Marino Franchitti demonstrated he has what it takes to be a champion, at least to this race watcher.
When that last green flag was waved with about 20 minutes remaining in the race, there were all sorts of things that could've gone wrong . . . but didn’t.
With recorder in hand as Marino Franchitti climbed from the No. 01 TelCel Ford EcoBoost Riley DP at race end, asked if he was nervous in that final 20-minute sprint to the checkered flag, he coolly answered, “No, not at all. All I had to do was hit my marks. That’s what I am paid to do.”
And then he went to celebrate with his new-found friends: the entire Ganassi organization, Ford Racing and, hopefully, a full-time ride wherever it may be – as long as it’s first-rate so the man can win a championship in his own right.
Later,
DC
