Times Like These
October 19, 2011 | By Paul Kelly
A mental tug-of-war started for many racing fans last Sunday afternoon when they learned Dan Wheldon passed away at Las Vegas.
I love this sport. I hate this sport. I love this sport. I hate this sport.
Those exact thoughts have bounced around my head, too. How can a sport so beautiful be so brutal?
The search for mental clarity took me to my road bike late Tuesday afternoon. Cycling is among my favorite kinds of exercise, and it’s cheap therapy on two wheels.
I rode for about 75 minutes on a beautiful, crisp, fall day. The vibrant green of the summer is blazing into the brilliant gold and orange of autumn here in Central New York. It was the twilight of a day filled with life, a Dan Wheldon kind of day.
And my mind spun even quicker than my pedals and chain, as I tried to make sense of why I could still love the sport of motor racing after days like last Sunday.
Was it worth it? What is the purpose? Why?
Then music, one of the grounding joys of my life, started to provide an answer. The chorus of “Times Like These” by Foo Fighters – one of my favorite songs by one of my favorite bands – echoed through my mind and seeped into my soul. My head started to bob up and down gently as I quietly sang the words over the whoosh of cool air swirling under my helmet and through my ears while riding east toward my home:
It’s times like these you learn to live again
It’s times like these you give and give again
It’s times like these you learn to love again
It’s times like these time and time again
Clarity came quickly: Even now, we love racing because it’s so much like the ebbs and flows of life. There are highs loftier and more gratifying than any sport. There are lows more tragic and crushing than the cliched “agony of defeat.”
I won’t go so far as saying racing is life. But the sport is an incredible metaphor for life. Speed. Danger. Risk. Kinship. Friendship. Community. Winning. Losing. Joy. Sorrow. Hope. Despair.
When Dan stood in Victory Lane in May after an unforgettable Indianapolis 500 victory, we shared in his joy. We’ve all had moments in our lives that have produced similar euphoria. The birth of a child. Marriage. A promotion or raise at work. Seeing a child, a brother, a sister win the big game or graduate top of the class.
And when we learned of Dan’s passing Sunday, we shared in the intense grief. We’ve all suffered the numbing pain of loss in various shapes and forms in our lives.
It’s understandable if people don’t feel the same passion for motorsports right now as they did at noon last Sunday. But I think in the coming weeks these lyrics will ring more true than ever:
It’s times like these you learn to live again
It’s times like these you give and give again
It’s times like these you learn to love again
It’s times like these time and time again
Think about that when testing resumes on the 2012 Dallara Indy car, a safer vehicle in which Dan played such a huge role in development. Think about that when the months turn into weeks and then days before the Dallara DW001 chassis makes its racing debut next spring.
Racing gives us so much pleasure. So much happiness. Just like Dan.
We’ll learn to love this sport again. Time and time again.