"TWO-TIME WINNER LUYENDYK HEADS
INTO FINAL RIDE IN INDY 500"

Published in the Johnson County (Ind.) Daily Journal, May 29, 1999 ©

[*Second-place, Column Writing, annual writing contest of American Auto Racing Writers and Broadcasters Association, May 2000*]

         Sunday morning, he will stride through the lane from the garages at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway once again, slender and quietly confident in his black-and-red driver's uniform, carrying his crash helmet at his side like a bowling ball of many colors, to the huge, crowded race track that has provided him with his proudest moments in his chosen sport.

         When the crush of spectators beside the same lane recognizes his finely chiseled features and thick, wavy hair, he will again hear the same rhythmic chants of his name: "AR-EE! AR-EE! AR-EE!" And scores of hands, many holding scraps of paper or souvenir programs for autographing, will thrust forth from the chanting crowd. As he has for the past 14 Mays, he will probably stop to sign some of them.

         Then, Arie Luyendyk will finish his short walk to a long day of racing, outwardly calm and with both eyes focused on the prize he wants one last time. The crowd favorite and race favorite rolled up into one racing hero will finally answer the call to take his last ride.

         No one scene, repeated over and over since 1985, stands out more in the mind of Luyendyk, the two-time Indy winner who, win, lose or draw, is putting his helmet away for good at the end of the 500 miles Sunday.

         "First of all, from day one when I came here as a driver, I always enjoyed the kind of relationship you build up with fans," Luyendyk says, his voice as low-key and steady as an idling engine, "like those guys standing there as you go into the pit lane -- they've been standing there for the last 15 years yelling the same things at me for 15 years. You just know those guys -- not by name, but that's the kind of thing that really stands out when you come here, just how much this city lives and breathes and eats this race.

         "Everybody's just really into it, which is great, because we're really into racing as well."

         Luyendyk punctuates the end of his sentence with the subtle, pencil-thin smile the entire Indy crowd has come to know so well since he first walked into the Indianapolis speedway in 1985 as a relatively unknown road-racer from the Netherlands.

         Even then, five years before he won the first of his two spots on the big Borg-Warner Trophy, he knew there was going to be some kind of special bond between himself and the fabled 500 track. "When I came to Indianapolis, there was just something that clicked between me and the track," he recalls, the smile turning smoothly left.

         "There was a connection, and I can't really explain what it is. I just like driving around this track."

         The connection continues even now, when, at the age of 45, Luyendyk contemplates his final Sunday drive in the 500. Retirement talk has had to take a back seat to possibly winning Indy for the third time, since the Dutch driver starts from the pole position Sunday and is both the sentimental and betting man's favorite for the 83rd running of the Memorial Day weekend classic.

         At least that is how Luyendyk sees it. "I don't wake up in the morning and think about this being my last this or that," he says matter-of-factly. "Having said it's going be my last race and my final 500 here, I always say we're not here just to show our appreciation to everybody at the speedway, the fans, my crew, my crew members that have worked with me in the past, my car owners, and so forth.

         "I always stress the fact that, yes, we're going to interact with the fans as much as we can, but first and foremost on our mind is to be competitive and try to win this race. That was not PR talk; that was serious talk there, realistic talk."

         The realism of it became clear last Saturday, when Luyendyk qualified his No. 5 Treadway Racing machine for the best starting slot on the Indy grid for the third time in his career. That moment was so real that it probably will remain an indelible image in the thick mental scrapbook of great moments in racing for the Scottsdale, Ariz., resident. "I was really moved by the enthusiastic crowd all around the race track and coming into the pits and all the crews waving and clapping," he reports.

         "It just shows you that this whole race track and whole Indianapolis 500 is about the fans and the people who make it happen."

         Clearly, for the soft-spoken man -- the only one to win Indy under both the CART and Indy Racing League umbrellas and one of the few to steer clear of the crossfire of words between the two rival groups -- the Indy rainbow has something more golden at its end than a pot of about $1.5 million. "It's not about money," he insists, the smile turning into a long, sincere straightaway. "It's about passion. That we're doing this is about returning favors to people that helped us and the fans."

         And, somehow, the fans have always known that. Though Luyendyk is the antithesis of the all-American, oval-track racer at center stage of the Indy Racing League's proclaimed vision, the fans have voted him the most popular driver on the IRL circuit the past two years. He will probably be the most popular choice for victory Sunday, too.

         But, in 15 years at Indy, Luyendyk has learned that the realities of Indy racing can be as harsh as the glaring Indiana sun. "I might have a very good car on race day," the 1990 and 1997 winner acknowledges, "but you never know what's going to happen beforehand. That's what is so neat about this place; it's always a surprise, and as a team you have to react to whatever happens.

         "And I have a good team for that."

         And, whether he drinks milk in Victory Lane or something stronger back in the Treadway Racing garage, Luyendyk's racing thirst will be fully and finally quenched Sunday afternoon. Retirement is a given for him, not a whim that could be discarded like junk mail in an instant of triumph or defeat in his very last Indy-car ride.

         "I haven't had any second thoughts at all," he insists. "No problems, no second-guessing. I'm at peace with my decision, but that doesn't mean that I'm here at Indy to just play. I'm really working this pretty seriously."

         Yet, the intense focus on Sunday's race hasn't precluded a few thoughts about what he will recall wistfully once he turns his full attention to his family -- wife Mieke, who has started a new business with one of her friends marketing frilly tennis undergarments, and their four children -- his art collection and perhaps some stints in the broadcast booth as a racing commentator.

         "Just the sheer pleasure of driving around this race track, or any race track," he begins his list of soon-to-be-fondly-missed experiences, "trying to get the most out of the car, getting that ultimate lap. It's really satisfying to do that.

         "Also, I love the competition. Really, I think the race for me is the most exciting part of all. Getting ready and getting the green flag and going racing -- to me, that's the best part."

         But the retiring Indy winner is quick to remind everyone that there is more to racing -- and to him -- than just sliding into the cockpit of an Indy-car and driving it at super-human speeds. "There are so many things I'm going to miss as a driver, but, as a person, I'm still going to be around here in the future," he notes, "so I'm not going to miss much of the other stuff."

         He pauses only long enough to jump-start another smooth-running smile before musing about the pleasurable possibilities that will follow his last slow walk back through the crowd- lined lane to the Indy garages Sunday afternoon. "Probably what I'm going to experience in the future now is I'm going to be able to stay up late and maybe even have a drink or two," he speculates, the smile accelerating flat-out into a robust chuckle. "So, it might be even more fun in the future, who knows?"

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 Copyright 1999 by Jerry Miller ©

 Color photo courtesy of Treadway Racing

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