First, I should preface my comments by saying I'm not a fan of American open wheel racing or oval racing, so I'm coming at this as an outsider to the sport, but a racing fan nonetheless. And reading over my comments, I see that I'm doing the girl thing of softening my argument's impact with indecision and rhetoric, but God forbid I offend anyone of my nine readers.

...

I am sorry Paul Dana is dead. I'm sorry the bright young journalism talent who turned down Autoweek to pursue his petrol-soaked dreams is gone. I am so very sorry he's left behind a wife and a family. I'm sorry he's left his league bereft.

I am sorry.

But watching the tape of his crash over and over, I can't understand the senselessness of his death. To whit: why the hell didn't the guy lift? How the hell did he ignore the yellow flags? Why did he blow off the spotters telling him there was a massive shunt on the track ahead? Why didn't the slowing, diving traffic around him tip him off that it might be a good idea to let up off the throttle?

I could rattle off the platitudes of a a racer's protocol for being in the seat: the mental clarity beyond a normal shlub's sobriety, an acumen of attention that can sift through all of the information and make the smartest, fastest, safest decisions about track conditions. I could toe the party line of life and death split-second decisions made at 200 miles an hour, life lived at the redline.

But dude, even the first time novice H-stock autocrosser knows to friggin' lift when there's a caution thrown.

The tiny Bob Varsha that lives inside my head comes up with a list of possiblities for what happened: Maybe Dana was lost on the track and thought the crash was behind him. Maybe he wasn't as stable as he could have been and a sudden change in acceleration would have sent him into the wall as well. Maybe his tires were threatening to break loose. Maybe he had an imminent suspension failure. Maybe his radio wasn't working. Maybe he didn't know where to look for the yellow caution lights. Maybe he was color blind and thought those yellow flags were blue pass flags. Maybe he saw the spinning cockpit coming from the right and thought he was out of danger.

But then I watch a replay of the tape and all I can do is shake my head and mutter rookie mistake.

I was there when Ralf Schumacher went into the wall at Indy for the 2004 USGP. I saw how fast those flags dropped for a full-course yellow. I saw how backmarkers a half-lap behind the shunt slowed immediately, how fast the safety car was out, how fast the remaining drivers queued up behind it.

(And I still think they should have black-flagged that damn race along with last year's farce, but that's another post.)

I wonder if Dana's death will shine a light on the pay-for-play arraingments some drivers have across the sport. I wonder if teams will revise their practices of accepting just about any driver who can pony up a couple of fat-wallet sponsors regardless of talent. I wonder if maybe I'm being too harsh, if this crash had nothing to do with Dana's relative inexperience at the top level, if I'd react the same way if -- God forbid -- a similar tragedy happened between two experienced drivers in F1.

I don't have an answer. But I can't stop thinking of the rookie's mistake.