|
It is not about the death, per se. It is about the sport, about something that happened in the sport that is not supposed to happen. It is about the people in the stands that came there for excitement, expecting to see people race and instead saw death. Yes, that goes with the territory, yes, that is part of the sport, but that it is so rare and that it affected so many people is what makes it news. They came to see him race, expecting to see him smiling and waving to them afterward, and instead they lost him.
I have followed racing for many years. I was in the stands at Indianapolis when Eddie Sachs and Jimmy MacDonald lost their lives. I was in the stands at the Milwaukee Mile when Ronnie Duman died. I have been in the stands probably a thousand times since those events. I have shaken the hand of probably a hundred drivers and screamed myself hoarse when one of my favorites won. I cannot count the number of times I have had someone else look for me until they could tell me that my favorite driver was okay.
It's not about Dan Wheldon, it's about the impact of his death. If I die tomorrow it will have no more impact that a leaf falling from a tree. It will matter greatly to a very, very few who love me, it will matter a little to a very small handful of my friends, and to the world at large it will matter not at all. That is the way it should be. Dan Wheldon was part of something huge, and his death matters not because of him but because of what he was part of, because of the nature of what it was that he was part of, and because he was such a big part of it.
|