Oilpressure

Retirement from my day job is suiting me well. As the Month of May approaches, I have settled into a daily routine of doing projects in and around the house, taking a shower and then watching old IndyCar videos on You Tube in the late afternoon until Susan gets home. Sometimes I’ll subject her to whatever I’m watching, but not always. She’s not as much of a fan of 35 year-old races as I am. But they are getting me fired up for the Month of May.

This past Friday, I stumbled across a very clear copy of a race that is very important to me (and Susan, but she doesn’t know it). It was the 1991 Texaco/Havoline 200 at Road America. I had seen a very fuzzy copy of this race on You Tube a few years back, but this one was fairly new. Why is that particular race so important to me? Watching that race take place in the cool climate of central Wisconsin, while it was about 95° in Tennessee, suddenly made me want to go there. As Paul Page kept describing the aroma of brats wafting through the air, and all of the shots of Indy cars racing through the woods – I told myself that one day I will go there.

At the time, I had never been to an IndyCar track besides the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. But I try to keep promises to myself. When it was announced that IndyCar would be returning to the picturesque 4-mile natural terrain road course in 2016, I was well into my blogging career with this site. We went that first year and have never missed a race at Road America since. It has become our favorite racing destination each year.

The original intent of this post was to simply discuss that 1991 race, talk about Road America in general and to share the video of that race. However, something was quietly reported over the weekend that caught my eye, and I think it warrants some discussion. Why did I spend several paragraphs on a race from 35 years ago? It does have a tie-in, so please bear with me.

I’m not sure who first reported this, but I originally saw it on Saturday – reported by Adam Stern of The Sports Business Journal. Stern stays on top of the motorsports industry. Usually if he’s reporting it, you can take it to the bank. In the article, IndyCar is quoted “Beginning with the 2027 IndyCar Series season, entry fields at all races outside of the Indianapolis 500 will be limited to chartered teams only. This decision was reached after thoughtful consideration with key stakeholders and, in particular, series suppliers who are making plans for the upcoming season as all parties look to build the series’ health and on-track competition.”

In short, had this rule in place when PREMA came along, they would not have been allowed to race for the 2025 season, except for the Indianapolis 500.

Saturdays are generally slow news days. If you are going to release something you think might be unpopular, you either do it late Friday afternoon or on a Saturday. Reaction has been predictably muted, but mixed across social media. Some see it as no big deal, while others are outraged. I would put myself sort of in the middle, but closer to the latter. I’m not outraged, but I don’t like it.

Of course, some of those outraged just read part of the headline and not the actual article. They went off on tangents how Dreyer & Reinbold will be pushed out of next year’s Indianapolis 500, and how we will only be seeing 27 cars qualify each year for the 500. It’s amazing to me how some of these people can even function in their day-to-day lives, but I digress…

Yes, the 500 will still be open to the one-off teams, but you can forget those one-off teams expanding into any other races on the NTT IndyCar schedule. For a year or two, we have been hearing whispers that Dreyer & Reinbold Racing (DRR) might want to do a few more races – maybe at least some ovals outside of the Indianapolis 500. If they don’t run Gateway, Nashville or Milwaukee in 2026, they can forget those plans for good. They will not be allowed to come to the party without a charter, and unless Chevy gives their single charter to them in 2028, they are done beyond ever entering another race outside of 16th and Georgetown – and then it is for the 500 only, and not the Grand Prix.

I get the original reason behind the charters. They gave the existing teams value, when the charters were handed out a couple of years ago. They are basically a reward for being at the right place at the right time. Sarah Fisher spent a lot of her own money to field a car for several years, but her team ended up in the hands of Ed Carpenter who now holds two IndyCar charters. Sarah got nothing.

Dreyer & Reinbold scraped together just enough to field at least one fulltime car since the early days of the IRL, until they ran out of money midway through the 2013 season. Since then, they have still been counted on to field one and sometimes two cars for the 500 each year. Their thanks for being such a loyal supporter of the 500? They’re told they can still spend their money each May, but we no longer want your business at any other races during the season.

Although I understand wanting to protect the charters in place, this screams of elitism to me. If you are wanting to run a few races in our series, you aren’t welcome. In fact, unless you have a charter you aren’t welcome. Non-charter teams have already been told that fields are capped at 27, and that the 25 charter teams are guaranteed starting spots at each race that is not the Indianapolis 500. What is the harm of DRR wanting to run one or even two more cars outside if the Indianapolis 500? None of the chartered 25 cars are threatened. Even if PREMA was still around with no charters of their own, there would be bumping at the regular season races between DRR & PREMA, and no other teams. The chartered teams would not be affected. So what’s the harm?

When I was watching the 1991 race from Road America on Friday, I was not aware of this latest bit of news was happening. Yet it occurred to me how nice it was to see several part-time teams putting cars into the field. Yes, they were field-fillers that had virtually no chance of winning, but it gave drivers exposure to some of the full-time teams. Some of the drivers from the part-time teams were; future Indianapolis 500 winner Buddy Lazier, Willy T. Ribbs, Didier Theys and Jeff Wood. Those part-time teams included Leader Card Racing, Hemelgarn, Walker Motorsports car for Willy T. Ribbs, Euromotorsport and Arciero Racing. Many of them ran most of the races, while others ran a select few, as economics would allow.

Yes, some of these and more from that race could be classified as journeymen drivers. But how many Indianapolis 500 winners from the past twenty-five years have been considered journeymen drivers at one time.

Keep in mind, this doesn’t just restrict the DRRs of the world. If Rahal Letterman Lanigan Racing wanted to enter an extra car to  evaluate a driver in a race or two, like they did with Jüri Vips a couple of years ago at Portland – they couldn’t do it now.

Will Power’s career was going nowhere at one point. His team had closed shop and he was forced to take a ride as a substitute driver while Helio Castroneves sorted out his tax issues. When Helio returned, Power was given a five-race part-time ride as a thank you for a job well done. Power took that opportunity and turned it into a race win at Edmonton, a fifth-place finish at Indianapolis and two more podiums, before a serious crash at Sonoma caused him to miss the rest of the 2009 season. He went on to win two championships and an Indianapolis 500 in a sixteen-year career at Penske. With this rule in effect, Power could not have driven past that 2009 season-opener that Helio missed.

In 1978, Roger Penske assured a promising Rick Mears that he would have at least six races, including Indianapolis, in a third car at Penske. Mears ended up driving ten races for Penske that season, but it was still not a fulltime ride. Imagine if this charter rule had been in place back then. Would we even know who Rick Mears was? As inconceivable as that sounds, that would have been one of the unintended consequences of having a charter system in place in 1978.

If you consider 1978 or 2009 too long ago to make an accurate comparison; just a few years ago in 2018, Meyer Shank Racing moved from an Indy-only team to other races on the IndyCar schedule. They started off running six races in 2018, ten in 2019 before going fulltime in 2020. They were applauded for doing it “the right way” by growing slowly over several seasons. Starting next season, no team would be allowed to do it “the right way”. I guess it doesn’t matter, because without a charter, they wouldn’t be allowed to do it at all.

That’s what upsets me most of all. How on earth do they plan on growing the series from here? Some of the comments I’ve seen says that IndyCar has bigger fields than ever at the regular (non-Indianapolis 500) races, and this new rule is no big deal. That’s mostly true, but these current teams won’t be around forever. The average age of an IndyCar team owner is 65.5. That’s not ancient, but half of the owners are older than that age.

Some teams have succession plans in place. It is assumed that Larry Foyt will continue once AJ (91) inevitably leaves us. Roger Penske is 89, and has everything in place for his team and track ownerships in place. Bobby Rahal (73) will most likely leave everything in Graham’s hands. But what about Dale Coyne (71) and Chip Ganassi (67)? And that’s assuming these teams will all race up until their respective owner’s demise. What if they just get tired of racing one day and pack up and go home? Other teams need to be able to come in and test the waters, before deciding that they want to purchase one, two or even three charters before they ever turn a wheel. It’s not too far of a reach to think that even though charters have some mythical value now that no one seems to be able to put a price on; if they are hindering a team from being sold to a prospective newcomer – they might drop dramatically in value, just like a stock can.

Not only will this new structure limit teams and drivers from testing the waters or getting exposure, I can see how the restrictive charter system will inhibit any interest from any supplier from coming on board. Will that elusive third engine manufacturer be given a twenty-eighth charter, like Honda and Chevy were? Doesn’t that further dilute the value of a charter? Let’s say after that third manufacturer comes in and Honda decided to leave when the next contract is up, will the next manufacturer have to buy the old Honda charter? That’s not much incentive to join the series. You’ve already given one to each of the manufacturers. Would Honda relinquish the charter they held and it automatically rolls to the next one? Could a team buy it? Maybe the powers that be have already taken each of these scenarios into account, but it sems like there is a lot of potential for the dreaded unintended consequences to come into play here.

The charters seem very short-sighted to everyday fans like me. It’s as if the series has grown at a healthy clip over the past decade, and think that’s enough. So let’s put a system in place that will make sure to hinder any possible growth in the future. Anyone in business will tell you; the day your business stops growing is the day your business starts to die.

To an outsider like myself, it just looks like the charter system will eventually stunt the growth of the series. It probably won’t in the next five years or so, but in a decade or two, it seems like the charter system is going to hurt the overall health of the series, and not help it. Maybe those that devised this system don’t care, because they’ll be dead by then. In twenty years or so, I may be too. But if I’m still around, I’m afraid fans and even the team owners at the time will be cussing the day the charters ever came into play.

Some of the terms I kept seeing thrown around all weekend were Country Club and Old Boys Network. With all of the team owners armed with charters, it’s all but impossible for any new potential racers, no matter how wealthy or pedigreed they are, to go racing. As it stands in 2026, Dale Coyne (for example) could sell one of his charters to a potential new team, and keep the other. If there were more than 27 cars entered for a race, one of his two cars would be exposed to be bumped. Starting next year, if Coyne sold one of his charters, he could not even race his second car.

I know that racing is constantly changing before our eyes, and that is increasingly become more of a business than it is a sport. At that race at Road America in 1991, everyone was afraid of big business ruining the sport. They didn’t know that a major tire war was just four years away. They also didn’t know that more engine and chassis manufactures were just a few years away. There were three chassis manufactures in that race – Lola, Penske and Truesports. Reynard, Swift and Eagle were not far off. Then again, The Split threw everything into chaos. Now we have one chassis and two engines. Although it sounds like things have simplified, it is really more complicated than ever to go racing. You don’t just need a car, an engine and a driver with sponsorship. You now need loads of cash to buy a charter, a business plan and connections before you can even turn a wheel. Change is Bad!

George Phillip

Please Note:  Tomorrow, I plan to travel to IMS for the two-day Open Test on the oval. All thirty-three cars are expected to participate. I hope to arrive just as the cars take the track at 10:00 am EDT. Susan has to work, so she will not be joining me. I plan to post from the track both days, so please check back here often.

You Tube will be carrying a free live stream of both days of the practice. Click here for Day One (Tuesday) and here for Day Two (Wednesday). – GP

This entry was posted on April 27, 2026 at 4:01 am and is filed under IndyCar. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.