Sports: Indy 500 fan attends 78th race (or 79th?)

Sunday’s 105th running of the Indianapolis 500 was a major step in a return to normalcy. The race came off without a hitch, and fans were back in the stands—not to the Indianapolis Motor Speedway’s capacity, but enough to make it at least look, feel and smell normal.

The most ordinary thing about it, however, was the safely assumed and gratefully resumed presence of the fan who has attended every “500” open to the public since 1939. And if you want to argue he should be given credit for 1938, as well, have at it. Your point would be valid.

Dr. Richard Bennett’s perfect-attendance mark for the race is a wonder to behold, a feat of devotion likely unmatched by any fan of any sport in any place. He has compiled a statistic as impressive as any in the event’s history, establishing a tradition to compare with the pre-race flyover and post-race bottle of milk.

Let’s do the math

Bennett was born toward the end of 1938. His parents, whom he describes as “nut cases,” took him to the race in 1939 when he was about 6 months old, and he’s attended every one since then. True, he had to miss the Pandemic 500 last August that was closed to spectators, but he can’t be blamed for missing that one any more than he can be blamed for World War II, which canceled four races, from 1942-1945. Speedway officials, who know of no longer streak, give him credit for attending his 78th consecutive race last Sunday.

Feel free to call it 79 if you want, however, because he was on the Speedway infield for the 1938 race—in his mother’s womb, six months before his birth. He didn’t see that one but figures he must have heard it.

What makes Bennett’s streak all the more impressive is the effort that goes into it. He lives near Pittsburgh and brings a chartered busload of nearly 50 fans, some who fly in from points as distant as Las Vegas and Florida to be part of the group. They stay over from Friday afternoon until Monday morning and soak up as much race-related activity as possible.

“It gets better every year,” Bennett said. “Our crowd changes. Some people drop out, but new ones come on. It hasn’t lost any of its spark.”

Theatrical experience

Locally, a couple of men have notable attendance streaks for sporting events, although they pale in comparison. Joe Drescher, a retired schoolteacher, attended his 69th consecutive Indianapolis Indians’ home opener on May 11, discounting last year when the season was canceled. Bob Bernath, a member of the Indiana Pacers’ stat crew, has attended each of the home openers dating back to the franchise’s inception in 1967—again discounting this past season’s first game when he wasn’t permitted inside Bankers Life Fieldhouse because of COVID restrictions.

Those two would agree with Bennett that the reasons for returning as faithfully as a swallow to Capistrano extend beyond the event itself. It’s about the relationships formed along the way and the comfort that comes from nostalgia and tradition. But there’s plenty of appeal in the race itself and all the events surrounding it that keep Bennett coming back. He loves the buildup and considers the race itself a theatrical experience that includes comedy, drama, mystery and tragedy.

Best of all, it’s unscripted and unpredictable. Such as when a presumably washed-up Helio Castroneves won the shortest race in history on Sunday.

“It’s got everything you can imagine,” Bennett said. “It’s addicting.”

You might have guessed by now that Bennett isn’t your stereotypical gearhead fan. An Ohio native, he graduated from Ohio State with a degree in dentistry. He later gravitated to anesthesiology, then earned a degree in pharmacology from the University of Pittsburgh, where he became a professor. He still lectures there occasionally and occasionally volunteers his services as an anesthesiologist for dentists who treat severely handicapped children.

At the 500, however, he’s about as typical as a fan can be. He misses the race’s quirky personality of a bygone era when drivers wrestled roadsters through the turns and innovations such as Novis and STP Turbines thrilled the fans. Today’s drivers guide computerized rockets and can’t even be seen in the cockpit.

“I’d like to go back to some of the older days, but time marches on,” he said. “I’d like to go back to the days of the dial phone, too, but it’s not going to happen.”

If that sounds contradictory to Bennett’s statement that the race “gets better every year,” it’s not. What gets better every year is the experience shared with his busload of friends and family members, including wife, Margaret; sons C.R. and Clint; daughter-in-law Malia; and granddaughter Ginny and grandson Clint. Combined, their attendance streaks surpass 300 races.

Bazookas and sliders

While the Indy 500 has become more buttoned-down and corporate over the years, the Pittsburgh 50 (or so) have not. Like all respectable race fans, they have their unique and silly traditions.

They stay three nights at the Steve Alford All-American Inn in New Castle. It’s perfect for them because there’s an open field out back where they can conduct their annual race-eve contest to see who can launch a potato the farthest with their 10 bazooka rifles.

It’s also close to a White Castle, where they pick up 100 hamburgers and 100 cheeseburgers after the race. “Most people in Pittsburgh have never heard of a White Castle,” Bennett said. “When they get them, they can’t get enough of them.”

Once their gourmet dinner settles and darkness falls, they shoot off the fireworks Bennett brings from Pittsburgh, a barely legal display that lasts at least 20 minutes. “It’s always a big show,” he said.

They pull out at 9 a.m. on Monday, conduct their own victory banquet on the way home by passing out awards for Rookie of the Year and the like, and are back in Pittsburgh by 3:45 p.m. after a stop for lunch in Columbus, Ohio. Each member of the traveling party pays less than $1,000 for the experience, including a $230 seat in Section B or E on the first turn.

They all collect stories along the way, too. Bennett, on a dare from his father, once actually got through to former Speedway owner Tony Hulman to order 20 more race tickets. Hulman not only fulfilled the order, he invited Bennett to join him at his table for the Queen’s Ball. Margaret Bennett once sat in St. Elmo’s and declared she had never met a driver. Next thing she knew, someone tapped her on the shoulder.

“Hi, I’m Helio Castroneves,” he said. “And this is my friend, Tony Kanaan.”

Margaret admits, however, she had actually met a driver before that. Rodger Ward once approached her at a bar while her husband was in the restroom.

So many stories. They even got one out of last year’s delayed and fan-free race. They gathered about 20 people in their basement to watch it on television. Malia brought candles scented like exhaust fumes and gasoline to provide a whiff of familiar atmosphere. With no White Castle locations in the area, they bought the chain’s frozen sliders at the grocery store and heated them up.

“It was heart-breaking,” Bennett said of not being there. “It was like telling us Christmas was canceled.”

But they made the best of it. They always do, one way or another. And, yes, they’ve already purchased their race tickets and reserved their chartered bus and hotel rooms for next year. They’ll be back for Bennett’s 79th straight race.

Or 80th, if you prefer.•

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Montieth, an Indianapolis native, is a longtime newspaper reporter and freelance writer. He is the author of three books: “Passion Play: Coach Gene Keady and the Purdue Boilermakers,” “Reborn: The Pacers and the Return of Pro Basketball to Indianapolis,” and “Extra Innings: My Life in Baseball,” with former Indianapolis Indians president Max Schumacher.