How Do I get Started In Racing?
By Brock Yates
I have a friend whose young son is obsessed with the notion of becoming
a professional racing driver. Not an unusual aspiration for a young man,
and one that certainly preoccupied me during much of my youth. But it
once again raises the question, so often asked by noviates to the sport,
"How do I get started in racing?"
Clearly, there is no simple answer, although certain consistencies pertain
when examining the careers of the best in the business. For openers, they
all started early, gaining experience in a variety of forms of the sport.
Secondly, they made a total commitment, erasing all other distractions
from their lives to concentrate on a single goal. Thirdly, and this is
important, they raced constantly, gaining experience in all kinds of machines,
racing anywhere, anytime, in order to obtain the most valued ingredient
in my opinion, seat time.
My recommendations to my friend’s son went this way: First of all, get
to a couple of top-flight driver’s schools – Skip Barber, Bondurant, Track
Time, Jim Russell, etc. – to determine (1) if racing is as much fun as
the fantasy and (2) if he has any real aptitude. Flashes of brilliance
ought to be immediately evident, although few can expect to follow the
example of the great Dan Gurney, whose skill was so obvious and extraordinary
that he was invited to join Scuderia Ferrari before he had 20 races under
his belt.
But providing the youngster’s racing school marks are good, a decision
must be made: Does the family have the funds to immerse him (or her) in
racing, or is it to be engaged in simply as a hobby? If funds are available,
I would recommend a start not in automobiles, but in karts. Here the competition
is intense and more importantly, can be engaged in three or four times
a weekend. Another alternative is motorcycle racing, which offers the
same kind of cheap, furious and constant competition. Keep in mind that
all manner of great drivers, including Ayrton Senna, Michael Schumacher
and Juan Montoya, were experts in karts while the likes of Bernd Rosemeyer,
Tazio Nuvolari, Mike Hailwood and John Surtees started on bikes.
I recall the late Swede Savage, who was headed for greatness before his
death, saying that it was the "race track environment, not the type of
machine," that was critical to learning about racing; the starts, the
mental preparation, the passing techniques, the tactics and strategies
were elemental, regardless of the car or bike employed. (Swede started
on flat-track motorcycles.)
Once the driver/rider feels comfortable in the racing environment, he
or she is ready for more serious levels of the sport. Therefore, in my
opinion, maximum seat time is essential; a constant exposure to race track
conditions is more essential than engaging in a brand of competition where
the schedule is thin. I believe that a young driver, even if he aspires
to the World Championship, can hone his skills at the local kart track
or stock car oval as well as he can in a Formula Ford or other smaller
open-wheel class where he gets a chance to race only a few times a year.
Think of the Rick Mears and Robby Gordons, who came out of off-road racing,
or Jeff Ward, the motocross champion, or the legions of Brazilian karters
who rose to the major leagues. Roger Penske’s new star, Ryan Newman, learned
his trade in midgets and sprinters on Midwestern bullrings. All too often
we think conventionally, believing that a certain type of car or a certain
class of racing is the path to success. But the cream will rise to the
surface, no matter where a youngster starts. Skill is skill and an accomplished
oval-track driver will quickly learn road racing, as will a talented road
racer master oval techniques, meaning that the starting point is essentially
meaningless, provided the previously mentioned element of gaining seat
time is observed. There is no substitute for racing; not testing, not
schools, not lone practice sessions. Only the sound and fury of the race
track – any race track – will prepare a driver for more advanced competition.
Clearly, once a young driver has indicated real aptitude in karts, motorcycles,
T/Q midgets, Legends Cars or other entry-level machinery, it is time to
make the choice between road racing or ovals. The latter choice is simple;
a ride, if it can be obtained or afforded, in any one of a number of preparatory
stock car leagues, ASA, smaller NASCAR classes, etc. where the action
is thick and constant. The next step for the aspirant road racer is tougher.
A Formula ride in the SCCA is probably a dead end. The racing is sporadic,
expensive and essentially ignored by the professionals. Better to run
the Newman route with the midget campaign where the IRL is strongest.
Midgets and sprinters are, in my opinion, excellent preparatory machines
and afford the opportunity for maximum seat time.
Surely an even better choice would be Formula Atlantic, but it is egregiously
expensive (approaching $1m a year to be competitive) and the racing schedule
is sporadic. This lack of Atlantic races may be one of the central reasons
why so few Americans are capable of competing at the international level.
When not racing in the Atlantic series, racing on alternate weekends
in SCCA amateur competition is probably a viable alternative, merely to
gain experience. Presuming the funds are available, an even better choice
would be to haul off to England and rent, beg or steal a ride in any one
of a number of continental open-wheel races. There the racing is constant,
intense and ruthless and watched closely by the factories and professional
team owners.
Perhaps the most important element in the equation is personal honesty.
Motor racing can be delusionary. Unlike stick-and-ball sports, the machine
complicates the situation. A mediocre driver in an excellent car can often
run as quickly as an excellent driver in a mediocre car. In tennis, baseball
or football, etc. there are no delusionary factors in evaluating talent.
Either you can hit the ball, run, catch, volley, pitch or block or you
cannot. No amount of daddy’s money, schmoozing the coach or playing politics
will hide the deficiencies in raw skill. Not so in motor racing, where
the car is perhaps 80pct of the game. Therefore a young driver can waste
time by believing that if he or she only had the right car under their
butts, they could run with the leaders. At that point evaluating raw talent
is extremely difficult and can persuade a driver with middling skills
to continue to chase the brass ring when he or she should have long since
faced reality.
I can think of a number of young drivers who cling to their dream when
in fact the cause is hopeless. A career in the sport they love could be
better served as a driving school instructor, crew chief or weekend amateur.
In this sense motor racing can be a seduction that leads to nothing but
bankruptcy and frustration. One must not only possess enthusiasm and desire,
but the ability to honestly assess his or her talents.
To race or
not to race, that’s the question. If a youngster starts out with the most
elemental machine like a kart or a motorcycle, that question can generally
be answered quite quickly and with minimum heartache.
