DeltaWing Budgets, or Why John Barnes is Excited

One of the biggest advantages of the DeltaWing program (we've been told) is that it's dramatically cheaper than the current Dallara, and cheaper even than the proposed Dallara, Swift, and Lola cars.

The current Dallara/Honda package costs at least $1.5 million per car with a Honda engine lease.  The best estimate of what it costs to race is $5 million to run the full season with a decent degree of professionalism.  It won't let you develop a bunch of trick mirrors and other Penske-like bits, but you'll show up and give a solid, professional account of yourself.  The IndyCar TEAM program currently pays $1.4 million for a full-season effort, per car.  The gap of $3.6 million is what a team needs to find in sponsorship.  Let's leave aside for a second ho the car looks, and just look at the money involved.

Let's say you're in the racing world.  You have a team that leases a shop and owns some tools.  In short, you have at least a vague idea what you're doing, and you want to go IndyCar racing.  In the DeltaWing universe, how does life get easier than it would be right now?

The DeltaWing folks claim that their car will cost approximately $600,000 with engine.  Those engines, since they won't need to produce the same power in a low-drag DeltaWing, will be built for 5000 mile rebuild intervals.

So you want to have a finished car, and a backup chassis that is pretty close to race-ready.  Let's call that $1 million.  Let's call the year's overhead another $1.5 million.  This covers your shop's lease, payroll, health care for your employees, travel expenses, transporters, and all your permits and certifications.  This doesn't include a driver's salary, but it gets the rest of the team.  That has your budget up to $2.5 million.

You need a driver, but you don't want to hire some kid who comes with a check.  You want to hire a hot shoe from Indy Lights who has won races and looks like he has what it takes.  He does not, however, race for free (smart kid).  Luckily, there aren't any seats open at Penske, Ganassi, or Andretti, so he's looking for a one-year deal where he can prove himself, so money is negotiable.  You sign him for $500K.  He can pick up some extra dough by wearing cool shades and a sweet watch on camera.  That takes you to $3 million.

You'll need to buy tires, and fix the crash damage that happens when your hot shoe doesn't lift his early enough.  And you'll need to rebuild your engine(s), though with the engines they're talking about using, that should be a bit cheaper than in years past.  Let's add another $500K to account for all of this stuff.  That brings your budget to $3.5 million.

I know the IRL is trying to trim costs, but they increased the TEAM program payouts for 2010, so let's project ahead a bit, and assume it'll go up a little bit more by 2012, to $1.5 million per car.  The gap left is $2 million, or $1.6 million less than the current reality, and that's assuming you want to hire a driver at $500K.  The prospects for finding a primary to kick in $1.5 million, and a couple of secondaries to kick in $500K between them are a lot more approachable than those for finding $3.6 million in a struggling economy.

I readily admit this is all assuming the best.  It sets aside whether the public (be it current fans or new fans) will accept the Indy Rocket as a cool race car.  It assumes the DeltaWing folks aren't full of it when it comes to the cost of the car.  It assume they can indeed convince multiple engine builders to allow their engines to race in the DeltaWing-driven IndyCar Series.  These are all (every one of them) large assumptions.

But ... it does help underline why guys like John Barnes, Tony George, and Dennis Reinbold are behind this idea.  In this new economic model Panther, Vision and D&R are suddenly looking like legitimate two-car outfits who are at least able to run with Penske and Ganassi, if not beat them occasionally.  Dale Coyne might not be a front runner, but he can run two cars and have his drivers in place by January 1 every year.  Conquest can reliably get at least one car to the grid every race.  Sarah Fisher and AJ Foyt are both bringing two cars to every race with Dollar General and ABC Supply.  Guys like Ron Hemelgarn and Paul Diatlovich can not only show for May, they can show up at Texas and Kansas, too.  A successful WoO or USAC team can realistically put together an Indy effort without jeopardizing their primary operation to make it work.  An ALMS or Grand-Am team can do the same.

And all of this without even considering hiring a driver because they can bring a check to keep you afloat.  And if you can raise anything over that $2 million number, you are either making your way forward in the field, or hiring a more expensive driver, or (*gasp*) turning a modest profit as a race team!

The pay level for those young drivers might still lag behind what NASCAR can offer (for now), but it at least makes it an option, and some of those drivers will go the Indy route.

Yup, this is all an exercise in fantasy right now.  You're completely right.  But if you start poking around, you have to admit it's a VERY compelling fantasy.  In fact, I dare say it's everything IndyCar fans could ever hope for right now - if only the car didn't look so weird.

Like I said, I'm sure some of this math is fuzzy at best.  What am I forgetting?  Remember that this  wasn't designed to fund a winning IndyCar operation - just to make all the races without looking foolish.  I'm curious what flows people see with this scenario.

Why DeltaWing is the Grand-Am Concept

Open-source.  Concept.  Design exercise.

These terms have been thrown around a lot in the last few weeks, as fans and the media have debated the DeltaWing's merits.  Sure, it looks funny, but what does it mean?  As I said last week, the most important question still unanswered about the DeltaWing is what the designers mean by "open."  Do they mean that chassis builders can build versions of their design that vary in small ways from the core vehicle?  Or do they mean that chassis builders can build cars to meet a loose set of criteria, with the resulting vehicles perhaps looking very different from Ben Bowlby's solution?  This question has not yet been directly put to the principles involved, but it has been hinted at.  While they stop short of answering the question, it is fairly clear to me that the answer is closer to the former than the latter.  I think they intend for the core design to be as shown, and builders can then modify that design within certain constraints, so the cars will definitely differ in appearance, while all retaining the core "rocket-ship" aesthetic.  If you think about it, this isn't that different from what IndyCar (and F1 for that matter) have had for the last twenty years.  Put a 1995 Reynard and Lola next to each other, and show them to a casual fan from 100 yards away.  See if he can tell you which is which.  He probably can't.  They're both sleek little missiles with sidepods and wings front and rear.  Sure, savvy fans can point out the differences, but the essence of both cars is the same - and that was the era of wide open chassis competition that so many fans claim they long for.  So let's take it as a given that the DeltaWing concept could offer at least that much variety on the grid.  Where, then, have we seen such a concept before, of cost-controlled racing with multiple chassis builders modifying a common design, with power controlled across multiple engine manufacturers?  Here.

For folks who don't follow Grand-Am road racing, here's an admittedly over-simplified explanation of how the Daytona Prototype class works.  Grand-Am has a core chassis concept that manufacturers can bid to build.  Every five years, Grand-Am revisits their licensing, and new builders can come in while existing builders can leave gracefully, sometimes by selling their license to build the chassis.  The cars all look fundamentally similar, with fairly subtle variations in the body skin that give different manufacturers (including Dallara and Lola, notably) slightly different running characteristics.  Grand-Am can maintain certain safety requirements and racing characteristics while allowing development and innovation in other areas and keep costs under control.  They maintain level competition across engine manufacturers by tweaking things like gearing and the common ECU.  This is different from Bowlby's plan to limit fuel flow, but the principle is the same - that multiple very different engines can compete on a level playing field.

Grand-Am has problems of its own, to be sure (Among them, some fans think the cars are ugly!), but they are in far better shape than ALMS, who are looking at average prototype grids of 1.25 cars (OK, I'm exaggerating there a bit).  So while nobody with DeltaWing has answered the question fully, I think this is one model we can look at when considering what a DeltaWing-era IndyCar Series might look like.

If I Had to Choose a Chassis Right Now

I've been talking a lot about the three chassis manufacturers who have shown their stuff so far, and from the various posts, it's clear there something I like in each of them.

If it were up to me, and I had to pick right now, I'd go with Swift, probably the #32.  Just so we're clear.

The Fundamental DeltaWing Question

Someone (I think it was either Bowlby or Chip) said when pitching the DeltaWing concept that their idea is not to be the manufacturer, but rather let others build the chassis to the set of principles outlined by the DeltaWing program.  As an example, they said that if Audi wanted to get involved in IndyCar racing, they could use whatever engine design they want (presumably because it won't be a stressed chassis member, and fuel flow is regulated anyway) and have whoever they want build the car (I believe Swift was used in the example, but I'm not positive).  As long as that car fits the DeltaWing criteria, they'd be good to go.

The single biggest question that I think will determine whether fans accept the DeltaWing program is how strict those criteria are.  Are they suggesting that they will design a car, and then any number of builders can manufacture the various parts to the original specs?  That means no matter who is building the cars, they will all look basically like the car we saw yesterday, except for some subtle team tweaking.

Or is the DeltaWing concept instead a much looser set of criteria that anyone can build a car around?  For example, as long as it is light, low-drag, doesn't use the engine as a stressed chassis member, is based around a fuel-flow-limited engine, and somehow shrouds the wheels to prevent interlocking, is it good to go?  Can Swift design and build an entirely new and different car, and if it conforms to these guidelines, it'll be allowed to run?

This is the biggest question mark with this program, because in one case, all the talk of openness and innovation is just marketing horse-hockey, and in the other, the DeltaWing project is indeed an amazing hot-bed of innovation, and the idea that could propel IndyCar racing into a new golden age.  And (perhaps unfortunately), I think it really is that binary a question.

So: Is it open, or is it closed?

Why You Shouldn't Hate the Delta Wing YET

So that's the DeltaWing chassis, huh?  Well, they did say it was a revolutionary design.  Of course, they probably didn't mean that it would cause IndyCar fans to take up arms against the series, which if you peruse the forums of fans on Twitter is pretty much about to happen.  If the DeltaWing group intended this car to unite the fan base, well, mission accomplished fellas.  Seriously, job well done there.  I don't think I've ever seen that dude from Toronto in the orange and black Champ Car hat and the FTG shirt agree with the guy from Brownsville in the red and blue Northern Light hat and the Puck Fenske shirt.  Kumbaya, my Lord, kumbaya!  I'm pretty sure they could outlaw NASCAR and it wouldn't have united everyone as strongly in single purpose as they were when the red tarp got pulled back.  Yikes!  You'd think Ben Bowlby ran over their dogs or something!

I admit, I wasn't immediately a fan myself.  I'm still not sure I am.  It looks weird.  Really weird.  It looks a little like a Colonial Raptor from Battlestar Galactica, and a little bit like top-fuel dragster.  It was originally a three-wheeler, and let's be honest, it still looks like it is.  Head-on, it looks like something the military would deploy against the enemy only after all other hope is lost.

Why, then, am I conflicted?  If you've been following my comments on the chassis development program, you know that I like the Swift and Dallara offerings so far, and can't wait to see what Lola brings to the table.  So far, some of the designs have been more radical than others, but they have all fit the basic definition of a modern open-wheel racing car.

In short, my favorite parts about this car have nothing to do with its exact appears, and everything to do with the assumptions on which it's based.  One of the common refrains from the folks who don't like the chassis is, "Can you imagine 33 of those things at the Indy 500!?"  But that's just the thing - I don't think anyone involved ever intended 33 of these to start the Indy 500, at least not unless it first beats other chassis.  Ben Bowlby (the designer, formerly of Lola and now with Target Chip Ganassi) has said in a few different interviews that the DeltaWing group do not want to be a chassis builder.  They want to be a designer who them offer a core concept that other builders could develop from there.  Theoretically, this would lead to cars that follow the same basic idea, but look all different (some subtly, other less subtly) as engineers tweak, and trim, and change.  Remember that even when the IRL had three chassis suppliers (Dallara, Panoz, and Riley & Scott), the chassis were that different in appearance to the untrained eye.  Maybe the cars will all share a similar silhouette, but will have definite visual differences.  What this means, boiled down, is that the DeltaWing idea is based upon the assumption that starting in 2012, the IZOD IndyCar Series will not be a single-supplier series!  Swift and Dallara both very definitely made their proposals to be that sole supplier.  Lola will likely do the same.  DeltaWing does not.  In fact, I think this car is more of a reference design than the car that will actually run in 2012.  Think of it as IndyCar's Nexus One (the phone Google uses to show what the Android OS can do, even though they know most people will buy the Droid in the end).  This is a platform to show lots of the great ideas they have, that can then be applied to other chassis.

The engine is not a stressed member of the chassis.  While a somewhat boring technical detail, this opens the door for a much wider variety of engines that could be run.  Bowlby envisions a small turbocharged four-cylinder as part of his push to make IndyCar technology relevant, but you could easily run a V6, or even a small V8.  You could potentially even run a naturally-aspirated engine.  Any number of interesting engine technologies suddenly become realistic.

But Fred, you ask, how will the IRL equalize a variety of engines!?  Won't the fast one run away and stink up the show?

Well first of all, yes.  Just like Penske and Ganassi do now.  But actually, maybe not as much as you'd think.  Bowlby also envisions a unique engine performance management method.  Sanctioning bodies have spent the past 25 years trying to find ways to equalize different engines and slow them all down.  ALMS regulates the intake opening, limiting the air to the motor.  NASCAR used to trim aerodynamic areas on the bodies when one manufacturer was running away with it.  Remember going to Charlotte hearing that the Ford would be losing a quarter-inch of front valence?  Exactly.  Bowlby's idea is to limit all engines at a single point: fuel flow.  You can carry a certain amount of fuel, but it is strictly limited in flow rate.  Since you can only burn at that rate, it behooves you as a designer to find a way to transfer as much of that burn into power hitting the pavement as possible.  This leads to a focus on extreme efficiency, both in engines and in gearboxes and bearings - all of the areas that auto manufacturers are working on right now for their road cars!  The Indy 500 could once again be a proving ground for automotive technology.  Combined with their extremely light chassis (1030 lbs. without engine), a 300 hp engine could (they claim) turn a 235 mph lap, returning 12 mpg!  Even if those are optimistic, they're still amazing.

The lack of wings and the shrouded wheels produce downforce that is far less sensitive to turbulence, while preventing the interlocking wheels that have sent drivers into the fence at high speed.

OK.  It looks silly.  I get that.  But for everyone who complains about the lack of innovation, this is innovation.  I have no idea if this thing can do everything Bowlby claims it can, but I'd love to find out.  And if it can do those things, that car deserves a shot.  Sure, I don't want every car in the field to look like that, but maybe they don't have to.  If you consider it in the context of multiple chassis options, suddenly this things looks much less silly.

This isn't racing camp.  It isn't important that everyone is on equal footing.  If you have the know-how and creativity to work on your car, and you manage to beat everyone else to the checkered flag, you should get the big shiny trophy, and everyone else should get a clap on the back and a beer.  Because anything else isn't racing.  Winning is beautiful, and I want to see if this thing has what it takes to win.

Oh, one more thing.  The DeltaWing technical notes talk about a theoretical lap of 235 mph with 300 hp.  That's getting perilously close to a number IndyCar fans thought they'd never see again: 237.498 mph.  That lap was laid down in 1996, by Arie Luyendyk.  In 2012, it will have been 16 years.  If this car can make a run at Arie's lap, then I say bring it on.

ARCA is Laughing, and IndyCar Knows Why

Well, the ratings for Danica's stock car debut are out.  Keep in mind that the race was on SPEED TV, and that ARCA is a third tier stock car series (fourth tier if you include the NASCAR trucks).  Keep all of that in mind when you hear that, "SPEED coverage of the ARCA Racing Series season opener from Daytona scored a Nielsen Household Rating of 2.30 (1,723,000 households), a 59-percent increase over last year's 1.45 (1,062,000 households)."  The quote is from the ARCA press release available here.


We all knew Danica would provide a bump to stock car ratings, even for ARCA races, but every IndyCar fan reading this just spit out their drink and said, "A 2.30?  On SPEED!?"  Yes, a 2.30.  Yes, on SPEED.  I know.


But that isn't what should really tick off an IndyCar fan.  You should really be ticked off that last year's ARCA race from Daytona drew a 1.45 rating.  Right now, if I offered the IRL a guaranteed 1.45 rating for all of the non-Indy ovals, would they take it?  You'd better believe it.  Nice.


As Pressdog says here, this is made even more frustrating by the lack of IndyCar racing for another month plus, and then it'll be four straight road and street courses before they finally get to Kansas.  Fantastic.


Just to throw out another depressing idea, let's say the IRL took NASCAR up on the rumored offer to run at Phoenix during the Cup weekend in a few weeks.  Let's say they came to an agreement to make it a twin-lead billing, with IndyCar running on Saturday night.  It actually would be a perfectly-timed season opener.  And let's say that Danica did the double, running both the Nationwide and IndyCar races.


True of False: That IndyCar race would be the highest-rated IRL race ever, excluding the Indy 500.


I say true.  It might also be the best-attended oval race ever for the IRL that wasn't held at Indy or Texas.


So the next big question is whether the IRL (and new CEO Randy Bernard) can make this happen for 2011.  Because it really need to happen.  It really really needs to happen.  I'm feeling bullish on IndyCar racing right now.  This could be the type of event that gains a ton of mind-share for the IZOD IndyCar Series.

The genie is out of the bottle, IRL!

I understand all of the reasons why the IRL is probably going to pick one chassis design and run with it for 2012.  I really do.  Economies of scale make it possible to keep costs down while still allowing the anointed manufacturer to make money.  And certainly, I'm not against making money.  I'm actually a big fan or it.  You might say I own Making Money's jersey and have a Fathead of it on my wall.

But DeltaWing is releasing their design on Wednesday.  And Lola will be out by the end of the week.  We've seen what Dallara and Swift have to offer.  So far, we have six distinct looking chassis (granted, three of them from Swift seem to be variations on a single main chassis, but they look very different), and at least two more to come by the end of this week.  Then it'll be three months until the IRL decides.  That puts us into May, and we all know where IndyCar fans will be focused in May.  For us, it's like the Fourth of July - we all get swept up into the moment and are hyper focused on the sport.  We will have had three months to ponder and discuss argue about at least eight different chassis, all of which will have the pluses and minuses.  Any one of them would be an interesting option for the IZOD IndyCar Series going forward.  Some of them I wish we could see race RIGHT NOW.

If only there were some way to physically see different chassis against each other on a closed course racetrack.  Some way to, I don't know, compare their respective advantages and disadvantages in an entertaining, direct, and real-time manner while paying customers could watch and form their opinions based on what they see.  If only something like there were possible under the laws of physics.  Wouldn't it be amazing?  Imagine if we could have found out whether Michael Andretti could get around Rick Mears outside, or if Mears could come back and duplicate the move.  Unfortunately, that would have caused the galaxy to implode into a super-massive black hole, so I guess it's a good thing that we never found out.

Admit it, you're already wondering whether the yellow Dallara could go to the top through turn four at Texas, and out-leg the #32 Swift to the line.  You're wondering if the #33 Swift could stay with the red Dallara up the hill at Laguna Seca and then crest the hill and get in front as it drops into the corkscrew.  Right now, you wondering if the maroon Dallara could go around the outside of the #23 Swift though turn one at Indy.  You're envisioning Jim singing "Back Home Again ..." while a field of Dallaras, Swifts, and Lolas get their final prep, and the driver mentally prepare for the task ahead.  It's OK to admit it - don't be frightened.  You're not doing anything wrong.  It's perfectly natural.

This gradual release of chassis design pictures has done more to energize and unite the fan base of IndyCar racing than just about anything the IRL has done in ten years, unification included.  There's a genuine buzz among fans.  The risk the IRL races is getting those fans excited, only to see them let down when three months from now, we find out that the next chassis will indeed be a spec chassis.  Sure, it'll be a cooler spec chassis than the current Dallara, but that will only hold the fans for so long.  That let-down will be bigger than they realize.

The title of my post refers to the genie that is fan excitement, because it can do truly magical things for a sport when the fans get excited and unified and want to evangelize the product.  The problem is that the genie is now out of the bottle for the IRL, and it will be exceedingly difficult (if not impossible) for them to cram it back inside.