The Best Present For A 13 Year Old

Cliff said, "Do you want to go the Indy 5oo?"

If your a 13 year old race fan, those words were music to my ears.

That was May 1980.

Still, 27 years later, I can picture everything about that day when I heard those beautiful words.

The Indy 500 in 1980 was still THE race.

It was the "Greatest Spectacle In Racing"

It was tape delayed on ABC, but aired live on the radio.

Pole day meant something.

Bump Day meant something.

It consumed the whole month of May.

It was something I always looked forward too.

I loved listening to that race on the radio.

The corner reporters.

The 10 lap rundowns.

The roar of the cars coming down the front stretch.

When the tape delayed broadcast would start, I would watch that too.

I already knew who'd won.

I didn't care.

I didn't have school the next day.

It was a Memorial Day weekend tradition for me.

"Do you want to go to the Indy 500?"

I didn't have to ask, I don't think I had to beg.

When I turned to get approval from my Mom & Dad, the look on my face must have said it all.

"If that is what you want for your 13th birthday, you can go"

Cliff was a huge open wheel fan and life long ticket holder at Indianapolis 500.

I'll never forget walking into the track for the first time.

The sites.

The sounds.

The smells.

The history.

It gave me chills then, it gives me chills today thinking about it.

I remember all the pageantry before the race.

I remember the legendary track announcer Tom Carnegie.

The cars all gridded on the track.

33 of the sleekest, coolest machines, I had ever seen.

The Purdue Marching Band.

Jim Nabors singing "Back Home Again in Indiana"

The release of the balloons at the drop of the green flag.

200,000 people at the "Greatest Spectacle In Racing".

Johnny Rutherford won in "Yellow Submarine" Pennzoil Penske car.

Rookie of the race, Tim Richmond; ran out of gas right in front of us at the end of the race.

Rutherford on his cool down lap, picked him up and gave him a ride into the pits on the side pod of his car.

A baseball glove, a game, a book.

Those presents would have broke, lost or sold at a yard sale.

But my 1980 Indy 500 memories?

The best present a 13 year old ever had.

It is an American tragedy, the Indy 500 has been decimated to just another race.

When it used to be THE race.

There is not a Memorial Day that goes by that I don't think of my Indy 500 in 1980.

Since Cliff is no longer with us, I think of him too.

And those words.

"Do you want to go to the Indy 500?"