Reflections on winning the Rolex 24:
Editor’s note: Scott Pruett, 50, is one of North America’s most successful race-car drivers, with multiple wins and championships in kart, Trans-Am and Grand-Am racing, as well as victories in IMSA and CART, plus starts in NASCAR. He drives the No. 01 Telmex Chip Ganassi with Felix Sabates Riley-BMW in Grand-Am’s Rolex Sports Car Series, where he is the defending Daytona Prototype champion. His 2011 duties also include work as one of AutoWeek’s Editors at Speed. This is his first column in that role.
I did my first Rolex 24 Hour race in 1984. I was 23 years old, driving a Mazda RX-7, sleeping in the back of a van. I drove 12 to 14 hours of that race; the muffler fell off the car and I swear I lost 50 percent of my hearing from that! I mean, in those days, racing was a lot different. I was just happy to be in a car, just a kid excited about racing.
Now–more years have passed than I care to admit–many things have changed. I’m older and, I would like to think, wiser. My training regimen is much better. I’m with Ganassi Racing, one of the best teams in the business, driving one of the best cars in the business. And I no longer sleep in the back of a van.
But some things haven’t changed. I still feel like a kid who is excited to race. There is always this incredible energy that hits me when I look forward to the Rolex 24 each year. I still get butterflies in my stomach and I can’t wait to get going. It signifies the start of a new season, new possibilities and new challenges.
The Rolex 24 is like no other race we do in the United States. Drivers and teams come from all over the world and from all forms of racing to compete against the best of the best. It is a grueling, complicated, demanding event for the teams, cars and drivers. Preparation for this race starts as soon as the previous season ends. The crew works hard to get the car and the guys ready for battle.
My preparation starts around mid-November. My nutrition and exercise program change to be at my optimal condition come race time. The real excitement begins when we roll the cars out for the three-day test at Daytona in early January. We have the opportunity to see how the car runs, get all the drivers in and comfortable with the car, practice driver changes, do long runs, check out the tires and track surface, fine-tune our setups and check out the competition. This is when you have to work out the kinks because the next time you’re here, it’s the real deal.
Everything went well for my Telmex BMW team. The guys did a great job with the car, and I felt very positive about our driver lineup–my full-time teammate Memo Rojas, along with Ganassi’s two new drivers, Joey Hand and Graham Rahal–so we had a good blend of talent and personality. The car was fast and easy to drive during the test, and we came away with great expectations for the race.
Actually, the race weekend begins a little earlier for me since I live in California. I travel a day early to avoid any hiccups with airlines and to allow myself to acclimate to the time change.
Thursday prior to the race is a wonderful, crazy, hectic, wild day at the track. Practice sessions occur; each driver has to complete at least five laps on the track. Setups are worked out. Qualifying takes place. And then we have night practice.
I qualified the car in third place, and we opted out of the night practice so we could get started on race preparations. Those preparations, in short, consist of taking the car apart and installing a new engine, new suspension uprights, new gearbox–actually, new everything, or at least rebuilt everything. It’s a lot of work for the crew, but everything went great in that respect.
Race day finally dawned, and my wife, Judy, and I arrived at the track to see massive crowds, long lines, traffic–all the things you want to see for the weekend. We had a drivers’ meeting, an autograph session, a final team meeting and then my final preparation before heading to the grid.
If you have never been to the Rolex 24, I really think it’s one you should put on your bucket list. There’s really no way I can relate the entire experience to you through words alone. Grand-Am really lets fans get up close and personal: We’re standing on the grid 45 minutes before the race, with massive crowds all around. There are autograph seekers and fans who want pictures with drivers; it is a true balance of heaven and hell. I love the fans and at the same time need to get my “game face” on, and my head is already in the race. Then that moment comes when I strap into the car, helmet on, engine roaring, and we’re rolling down pit road.
The green flag flies and we’re off. The 49th Rolex Daytona 24 is on!
The Flying Lizard Motorsports Porsche took the lead and was very fast, followed by a fast Suntrust Racing Dallara, and then me. After about 10 laps, we started hitting the rev limiter. Not good. Even now as I write this, I don’t understand why that happened. Regardless, we needed to solve the problem, which meant we needed to swap out the gears. The team built up a new transmission cluster with longer fourth and fifth gears, and we would stop and change during the next caution period. The guys did the job in about three and a half minutes, but we still went down one lap to the leaders. Not to worry, especially this early in the race, and within a short time we were back on the lead lap and working our way to the front.
In years gone by, it was not uncommon to have only one car on the lead lap by the end of the race. There were generally a couple of favorites in each class for the win, and they seemed to have the edge. Most teams started the race with speed and then settled into a less demanding pace to save their cars before picking up the speed again for the final hour or two if need be. The field could/would be very spread out based upon problems incurred during the 24-hour span, which put cars laps down to the leader. Over the years, though, durability, speed and competition have improved so much that you don’t see that anymore. Plus, Grand-Am has made an effort to allow cars a better opportunity to get their lap back during caution periods, which has made for some very fast and exciting 24-hour races.
One thing became very clear this year: This was shaping up to be a 24-hour sprint race, and during the second hour, things were crazy: cars spinning, crashing–I was dodging cars, sand, dirt, car parts, all kinds of stuff left and right! I’m still surprised that none of the mayhem collected us.
Once the race begins, it’s pretty straightforward: take care of the car, don’t make any mistakes, take care of yourself and be there at the end.
The driver schedule is determined loosely before the race begins. However, many variables can affect that, so it can and usually does change throughout the course of the event. The only things that are surefire bets are the fact that the driver who qualifies the car starts the race, and a driver cannot remain in the car for longer than three and a half hours at one time. From then on, the number of stints (approximately one hour each) and rotation are largely up to the team manager or whoever is calling the race from the pit box. In our case, it’s Tim Keene.
I got out of the car after three stints and Memo got in. Once I get out of the car, I have a short debriefing with the engineer. Afterwards, I head to my motor coach to continue pushing fluids, get out of my now very wet driving suit and take a shower. My wife makes sure I’m taking in proper nutrition/calories, gives me a massage, and I try to lie down and rest until it’s my turn again. Try is the optimal word, as it’s very difficult to shut down when you are that revved up! Judy listens to the radio and has her phone so the team can reach her if they need me.
The driver “handler” takes care of our driving suits and lets us know when we are needed on deck, approximately 30 to 45 minutes before we are actually scheduled to get back in the car. As I said, this is loosely how it goes, but mainly you just have to let it all unfold.
My teammates did such an outstanding job, as did the entire crew. Every time I got back in the car, it was just as good as when I had gotten out. The car was running well and the weather was good, until fog came in the early hours.
Let me just take a minute here to let you in on a couple of things. One, long cautions are boring. Two, driver’s hydrate a lot prior to and during a race. When you are running hard, you sweat quite a bit and stay pretty warm. When you are under caution for too long in cool conditions, all that changes–which leads to the most frequently asked question: “What do you do if you have to go to the bathroom?”
It’s not comfortable, I assure you. I’m not going to comment any further, but it’s kind of like the expression “what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.” In addition, it can get downright cold in those conditions!
Back to the race: I got in the car toward the end of the fog, when the sun came up and burnt off the haze and we finally returned to green-flag racing. I stayed in for approximately two stints, turned it over to Memo, who did two stints, and he turned it over to Joey. Approximately five hours to go. Like I said, this was a sprint race, and at no time did the pace let up. Every lap had to be driven smart and hard.
Toward the end of Joey’s second stint we had to make a decision. Could Joey stay in the car and do one more hard stint? If so, it would allow me to be fresh and ready to battle it out for the last two hours. We discussed it on the stand and then asked Joey. Joey, like a true professional said, “I can do one more.” Everything seemed great–until we pitted. When Joey left the pits, he brushed one of the old front tires that the crew removed.
Grand-Am officials assessed us a 30-second stop-and-hold penalty! I have no idea why it was a hold instead of a stop-and-go, but it was. The drama suddenly began to unfold. Joey had to drive as hard as he could for that stint, and he did a great job to make up for lost time. I know he was happy to give the car over to me on the next stop, because he had given his all.
Two hours (or so) to go, we’re in the back and about 17 seconds behind the leader, which just happened to be the Ganassi team’s other car. I don’t have a timing screen in front of me in the car so I’m not exactly sure where we are, but I’m getting information from the team via radio. I was driving hard and fast, making up seconds on the leader when the caution flag came out again. I asked the team if they wanted me to come in for fuel and/or tires. I had time to calculate a few things and felt that since we were at the back, it would be a good call to stop and would also shorten our next stop. We couldn’t discuss it too much because others monitor the radios, and you don’t want everyone to know what you’re thinking.
At first the team said, “No, stay out.” I asked a couple more times. Still “no.” At the last possible moment I hear, “Pit now; we are stopping for fuel and tires.” Turns out we all had the same thoughts, and waiting until the last second allowed us to pull it off. I dropped onto pit road, hit my mark, and the pit crew performed a perfect stop.
Now it was up to me to drive as fast and hard as I could to catch up so during the next round of pit stops ours would be shorter. That would allow us to take the lead, and we did. And then . . .
We’re leading the race, 10 minutes or so to go and one of the other prototypes cuts a tire. The driver continues to drive around the track, and meanwhile, the tire is coming apart, ripping parts off the car. Debris is flying everywhere, and a full-course caution comes out. The field bunches up and we wait to hear how Grand-Am is going to handle it. Grand-Am’s safety crew worked hard to get the debris out of the way as quickly as possible in order to finish this incredible race under green and not yellow.
Meanwhile, I had experienced an increasingly strong vibration from the front of the car for about the last 15 laps. I let the team know, but had no intention of coming into the pits. It was going to be “checkers or wreckers.”
The pace-car lights went off and the green-and-white flag waved. It was four cars fighting it out, a last-lap shootout to the checkered flag. Wow! What a race.
I love this race. The Rolex 24 is the epitome of teamwork. It takes so much time, effort and preparation by so many people. You have four different drivers all with different personalities and driving styles–two of whom are typically new to the team–25 or more pit stops, a team of guys up all night, and everyone with the single focus of racing hard for 24 hours and hopefully coming out with a win. And if you do win, it’s a victory that is shared by all. And winning never gets old.
This year marked my fourth overall victory at the Rolex 24, my ninth class win, a phenomenal “one-two” finish for the Ganassi team, and a record five years straight completing every lap for the No. 01 Telmex Chip Ganassi with Felix Sabates team.
And yet, all I can think about now is the 2012 Rolex 24 . . .
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