Once a year, Mike Leonard, who grew up one and a half miles from the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, allows himself to be a kid again.
The evening before the Indianapolis 500, Leonard and buddy Chris Bondurant, both 57, put baseball cards in the spokes of their bicycle tires and ride around downtown Speedway. They aren’t dissuaded by the confused looks of others because, in their minds, they’re 11 again.
At least for an hour or two.
Leonard, the Franklin College football coach since 2003, was raised near the sounds of cars practicing at the famous asphalt oval. Open windows were common in May for schools in the 1970s, meaning students might be trying to focus on studies as Mario, A.J. or one of the Unser brothers was working out their rides.
[sc:text-divider text-divider-title=”Story continues below gallery” ]
Leonard and Bondurant will sit in the Turn 4 bleachers on Sunday, not far from where the coach stood nearly a half-century ago during his first Indianapolis 500.
"My first race was 1973, sitting in the infield with my dad (George) in Turn 4," Leonard said. "It was wild. I got an education as a fifth-grader. It was just a mass of people. Obviously, there’s the smell of beer and I’m sitting there with my conservative dad.
"Why keep going? The start is so magical. The hour and a half leading up to the race is magical."
Persons raised in Indiana have had a unique bond with the Indianapolis 500 from the time 1911 winner Ray Harroun navigated his Marmon Wasp to the checkered flag. Stories differ, but fast cars, warm temperatures (usually) and human beings as far as the eye can see remain the common denominators.
Those who coach sports, such as Leonard, often view the race differently than the usual fan. They appreciate the competition, but also the strategy required to be successful while attempting to travel ridiculously dangerous speeds on an asphalt oval.
As a child growing up outside of Shelbyville, Andy Bass couldn’t wait for May.
Bass’s father, Jeb, was voice of radio station WSVL during the 1980s. Among his duties this time of year were trips to the Indianapolis Motor Speedway to watch practices and qualifications and conduct driver interviews.
Dad took son as often as possible. Not surprisingly, they are some of Andy Bass’s most-cherished memories.
“We went to qualifications, Carb Day and the race,” said Bass, 46, who grew up a fan of Rick Mears and is in his 22nd season as the Greenwood baseball coach. “For me, it’s history and being in Indy. You don’t realize how big the race is until you talk to people who aren’t from here.”
Bass continues tradition by taking the second of his four children, Sam, a junior at Greenwood and a member of the Woodmen baseball team, to the race every year. Sam Bass, the family racing enthusiast, was too young to attend when his favorite driver, Scott Dixon, won the race in 2008, but he did see him place third last year.
Center Grove football coach Eric Moore and Whiteland athletic director Ken Sears look forward to the race and all that leads up to it. Moore’s first trip to the corner of W. 16th Street for the race was in 1978 as a junior at Edgewood High School.
"I’m a big tradition guy," Moore said. "It’s a huge celebration for the state of Indiana and a celebration of the military. It makes you really proud. I like the speed of the track and the fact that the Roger Penskes of the world can be 82 years old and still be on top of his game.
"Everything that goes on there is a team."
Sears watched his first 500 in person his sophomore year at Whiteland, the rain-shortened 1976 race won by Johnny Rutherford. Sears has been to over 20 of the races and plans to attend today’s with his son and grandson. He remains awed by a sporting event known to annually draw crowds of more than 250,000.
“As an AD, I am fascinated by the sheer number of people they get in and out of the track on race day, the number of workers it takes to pull off an event and the security it takes to keep everyone safe,” Sears said.
