The Vancouver Sun from Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada • 64

P4 The Vancouver Sun, Wednesday, August 28, 1991 ran Pruett overcame terrible injuries to return to racing By MIKE BEAMISH Whenever a driver straps himself in the cockpit of his race car and peers over the wheel, he does so with the knowledge that it could be his last ride. Although the competitive side of this dangerous business usually puts those thoughts aside most of the time, there are idle moments when the perils of the sport can leave a guy trembling with fear. Scott Pruett, a bright and personable 31-year-old Californian, might have more reason than most to break out in a cold sweat. Eighteen months ago, Pruett was barrelling down the straightaway at a test track in West Palm Beach, and tapped his brakes when entering a corner. Nothing happened.

His Lola Chevy banged into a wall head on. Pruett's machine was mangled and so was he. Trapped in his car for 90 minutes, Pruett's injuries included fractures of the left knee and right kneecap, a compound fracture of the left ankle, two fractured heels and two fractured vertebrae in his back. "It was the most helpless feeling in the world being trapped in that car," Pruett remembers. "It was unbelievably scary.

I got pretty panicky. It seemed like it took forever to get out of there." When Pruett's injuries were assessed, the prognosis was that he might not ever walk again without assistance. Driving a car at 220 miles an hour seemed totally out of the question. Nevertheless, there he was at the 1991 Indy-car World Series opener March 17 in Australia behind the wheel of the all-new, made-in-A-merica Budweiser Truesports car, piloting it to fifth place. Pruett's miraculous recovery is a testament to his love for competition and the skill of Dr.

Terry Trammell, the Indianapolis orthopedic surgeon who has made a career of repairing the feet and legs of racing victims such as Rick Mears, A.J. Foyt and Shirley Muldowney. Trammell put in 15 hours in the operating room reassembling Pruett. In the ensuing months, Pruett worked seven to eight hours a day, seven days a week, with a physical therapist and on his own. Today, he walks without even a limp, though Pruett can't turn his lower back and his golf game has gone to hell.

Six of the vertebrae in his back are locked together with rods, screws and hooks. Most of the hardware that held him together has been removed from his legs, feet and ankles, but the metal in his back will remain for good. "I have a little problem with my left ankle, but the knees and my back there's no problem at all," says Pruett. "Baseball, football, anything active I can't do. I can run a little, but any distance is out.

Now the (fitness) work I do is on a bicycle or with a stair-climbing machine. It's real tough to swallow because I've been an active guy all my life." For Pruett, the 1991 Indy-car season is almost like starting over. He was able to attend some races last year, doing TV commentary and analysis, but he wasn't strong enough to get back into a car until October, when the season ended. In 15 starts in 1989, his first full Indy-car season, Pruett was in the top five five times, including a second in Detroit. He finished eighth in the PPG Cup standings and shared rookie-of-the-year honors in the Indy 500.

Pruett admits he was a little apprehensive the first time he touched his brakes in a racing car following the accident, at the 24 Hours of Daytona in February. But most of the psychological scars have healed. In fact, he thinks adversity has made him a better driver. "I think an accident like that is either going to make you or break you," he says. "You're either going to come back tougher, more determined, or you're not going to come back.

For me, I think it's just a pure love of the sport, or I wouldn't be back here doing it. "I know how bad my injuries were, arid I know what I can come back from. So, in a way, I'm less scared than I was before." Pruett has experienced some gearbox and engine problems this season, but considering he is a rebuilt driver piloting a prototype tar he has done remarkably well. Significant is that Pruett is driving the first American-built Indy-car since 1985, when the last of Dan GUr-ney's Eagles tried, without success, to combat the domination of the series by the British-built Lolas, Penskes and Marches. "When Roger Penske built his first it took years before he had a lot of success with it and the other builders have been the same," Pruett says.

"I think we're making a strong statement with this car. We don't have to look to other countries to design and build a great Indy car." The car is going through the usual shakedown problems. And because it is powered )y a Judd engine, not one of the dominant Chevrolets, it lacks major pop vhen it comes time to accelerate. Still, Pruett has three top-five finishes, including a fourth at the Toronto Molson Indy on July 21, and eight top-10 qualifications in 12 races. SCOTT PRUETT: miraculous recovery testament to spirit Pit crew chemistry Teamwork more important than mechanical ability 1 1 i 1 1 i mi i rva, AVV.

4 'fife By IAIN MacINTYRE Auto mechanic Paul Harcus went to Albuquerque seven years ago to turn wrenches MARK VAN MANEN PIT STOP is an intense 20 seconds or so of activity critical to success of racers burn his fingers and scrape his road with them and working all day," Harcus says. "If you've got the wrong type of personality, you won't last long in motor racing, period. If you get a bad apple he won't last." Harcus, a New Zealander who changes the inside front tire during pit stops, is the senior member of the crew. Armentrout, who operates the air jack, has been on the Galles team since 1987. Other members include Randy Bain (outside rear tire, joined team in 1989), Brian Barnhart (inside rear tire, 1989) and Sam Summers (fueler, this season).

Owen Snyder (outside front tire, 1986) is the chief mechanic. All of them have moved to Albuquerque to be part of the Galles team. "At the beginning, we made wholesale changes," Galles says. "The only one we haven't changed is me, and maybe that wouldn't be a bad thing sometimes. But we've got a good group of people right now.

"We try to have an unselfish group. We really don't want any primadonnas. We want people who want to win for the right reasons." "We've got a pretty lucky situation here," Barnhart says. "The team's been intact a couple of years. There's no super egos." Most spectators see the crew only during pit stops.

Unser pulls in, and the crew, like locusts, swarm over the car. Fourteen or 16 seconds later, four tires have been changed knuckles for the Galles team. "Deep down inside, you know it's; for Rick Galles' racing team. The deal was supposed to be for six races. Harcus never left.

That's how it is in the garage Galles built. He never lets a good man go. Good mechanics, yes. But good people tend to stay. Last season, Galles-Kraco racing people were good enough to help Al Unser Jr.

win the Indy-car World Series. Unser couldn't have done it without them. None of Indy's glamor boys would get far without the grunts in the garage. "The chemistry and how somebody works and what their values are, in most cases, are more important than their mechanical ability," Galles says. "Our whole concept as a team is nobody is more important than anybody else.

If AI comes into the pits and doesn't get tires and fuel, he's not going anywhere no matter how good he is." And Unser has been places, which tells something about the quality of his pit crew. "When he wins, we all win," mechanic Gary Armentrout says. "Just like if something bad happens on the track that's our car. Same thing." "You're living with them, rooming with them, travelling on the and the 40 gallons of methanol added to the fuel tank. Nice work if you can get it, right? If only it were that easy.

This weekend in Vancouver, the work days will begin about 7 or 8 a.m and last until dark. "And that's without any disasters," Harcus says. "If there's a disaster like a blown engine, we could be here most of the night." Worse things than blown engines have happened. Last season in Cleveland, Unser came into the pits for what was supposed to be a routine stop. With the crew around the car, the fuel hose came undone, spraying methanol over the pit.

The fuel hit the hot car and ignited. Unser and four crew members suffered minor burns minor only because Bobby Rahal's pit crew, the other half of the Galles-Kraco team, had been watching the pit stop and rushed to extinguish the flames before serious harm was done. "A lot of teams, that would have created some problems (over fault) down the line," Barnhart says. "But we bounced back two weeks later and won, then went on to win four races in a row. If anything, that fire brought the team closer together." "I think the good Lord looked after the whole team that day," Harcus says.

"I don't sit down and think: Okay, we could catch on fire the next race. The possibility is there, but I don't think about it." Mechanics from the Galles-Kraco home base in Albuquerque were flown to the Meadowlands in New Jersey to help the battered regular pit crew prepare Unser's cars he has a backup for the next race. "We're just doing the job we've been asked to. No big deal," Armentrout says. "Everybody works together.

Just because one of the guys doesn't go over the wall (during a pit stop) doesn't mean he's any less part of the team." Much like Indy's drivers, most CART mechanics have worked their way up through the 'minor-leagues' of racing. It is a love of cars that got them interested, and a love that keeps them on the road for half the year, pitching the garage tent at each Indy race. Armentrout has a business degree, and Barnhart a political science degree, but each chooses to not for the paycheque," Barnhart says. "There's a lot of other jobs where you make more money and work half as hard. But there's this; thrill of competition.

To know youj; gave your driver the fastest car You know on a given day, there! wasn't anyone in the world whol could beat you." "A lot of jobs you work at, you don't get that instant gratification," Harcus says. "By the end of the, weekend you've either proven; yourself good or bad you either win or lose. It's a lot of ups and downs. "I don't like a life that's just a middle of the road life. I like the I ups and downs." 22-year-old driver from Toronto touted as racing's next superstar Bv MIKE BEAMISH At first gander, the next Indy-car Top Gun candidate is too much like Beaver Cleaver to be mmmm V'-- 7-1 driven by Rick Mears and Emerson Fittipaldi.

"He's a winner," says Penske, an unemotional man who doesn't throw superlatives around freely. "Tracy's young. He's got a lot of experience. Racing's in his blood. He's focused.

We were looking for someone who could do the bullwork, the durability type testing for our other drivers who have many commitments on their time. Plus, having Tracy on the team gave me the opportunity to bring a young fellow along. It's kind of like having a farm team. I'm committed to running him at Indianapolis next year and at least two other races." The idea was for Tracy to make a slow graduation into Indy-car racing. But when he did an excellent job in his test work, Penske advanced Tracy's race debut to the 500-miler at Michigan International Speed-way on Aug.

4 to give him experience on a super oval for Indianapolis. Thanks to impressive practice and qualifying sessions, Tracy started in the No. 8 position on the grid. When Tracy talked before the race about finishing in the top five or even about making an appearance on the podium, it wasn't just rookie bravado. He looked like a legitimate threat to do that.

But the dream quickly turned into something else a costly and painful nightmare. Only three laps into the race, Tracy was running strongly and chasing Scott Braytonor sixth place hen he made a bold bid to pass Brayton on the outside of a steep corner and encountered turbulence from cars ahead of him. Tracy lost the road-holding down force on his car and slammed sideways into a wall. He suffered a multiple fracture of his lower left leg both the tibula and fibula were broken. "It's just unfortunate that he got a little bit anxious there at the start of the race in Michigan," says Penske.

"But we're certainly not letting him worry about that anymore. We're getting the car ready for him. He'll be back in the car at Nazareth (Oct. 6). Obviously, having a young guy that you've got to hold back on the belt probably is better than one you have to give a kick in the rear." Tracy was concerned that by blowing his plum assignment he might have muddied his future with the Penske team, but immediately after the crash the organization assured him it was not the case.

They want him back in a car as soon as possible. "Roger called me right away and told me that everything was the same and to work hard at being healthy," Tracy says. "He said he wants me to drive at Nazareth on the one-mile tri-oval Penske owns. "That was a big lift to my spirits, a shot in the arm when I was really down about what had happened. "I know I'll work as hard as necesssary to be healthy for that race and the chance to show every one what I can do." 4 ere the result of mechanical breakdown or his own impetuousness.

Like Michael Andretti, Tracy is the type of young driver who can't bear to be sucking on anyone's tailpipe. "He'll let another driver block him for a lap, two at the most, and then something seems to come over him," says former ARS driver Dean Hall, ho drove Indy-cars last season. "That's when he makes his move. That's when he'll blast through somehow." That competitive fire didn't go unnoticed by Roger Penske, the most successful Indy-car owner ever. Penske's cars have won 67 Indy-car races and the Indianapolis 500 eight times.

Whether in the pits or in the boardroom (Penske's various businesses earned more than S2 billion last year) Penske's trademark is hiring overachievers and setting them loose to be creative. "It's a tremendous opportunity for me," says Tracy, whose success nevertheless didn't send sponsors flocking to his door. With the exception of a few teams, most drivers have to supply money rather than ability to earn a full-time Indy-car ride. "Penske is the best racing team in Indy-car history. I had nothing going for me this season, no sponsorship before Mr.

Penske approached me in April." In Tracy, Penske saw a rising star with precocious talent. So Penske Racing signed Tracy to a three-year contract as a test driver for the cars taken seriously. you say to yourself, 'he's just a kid Paul Tracy looks too wet behind the ears to be driving race cars at 220 miles per hour. He is 22, but his wire-frame spectacles, cherubic features and schoolboy voice make him seem like a guy who has to use fake I.D. when he goes to the beer parlor.

Yet that youthful guise belies a reputation for ruthlessness and fearlessness and a driving ambition that has racing people referring to Tracy as Canada's next motorsport superstar. "This kid is going to be the next Gilles Villeneuve, the next Al Unser predicts Steve Home, co-owner of Truesports Racing, a front-line Indy-car team. "You've got to be blind not to appreciate his talent." Last season, Tracy, the son of a construction company owner from Scarborough, was almost untouchable in winning the American Racing Series, the farm league for the Indy-car World Series. He won nine of 14 races, setting a single-season record for wins, poles, points, earnings and laps led. The only times Tracy didn't win usually ALAN DUNLOPTORONTO STAH PAUL TRACY may look wet behind the ears but he has been hired by Roger Penske, dean of Indy car racing.