An interesting spin on the old Christmas classic.
Twas the night before Indy and all through the track Not a wheel was turning on the asphalt so black. The mechanics assembled the cars with great care In hopes that the victory would soon be theirs.
The fans were nestled all snug in their beds, With visions of their favorite drivers winning in their heads. They traveled from near, they traveled from far, With far too many people jammed in one car!
When out in the infield there arose a large bang The gates then swung open with a loud clang. The camera flashed onto the large bombard As the airing then commenced of “Breakfast at the Brickyard”
I got to my seat upstairs in Stand E Way before the sun’s rays could shine down upon me. When all of a sudden on the main straight appeared A field full of legends that all have revered.
In the pace car was a driver with so small a belly, I knew in a moment it must be Jones, Parnelli. Fast down the main straight the field then came As they went to Turn 1, I could call them by name!
Now Foyt! Now Mears! Now Andrettis, Michael and Mario! On Unsers! On Johncock! On Shaw and Dario! To the apex of turn one! To the entrance of turn two! Now drive down, drive down, drive down that short chute!
As dry rubber that before the wild engines burn, When they meet with the track, straightaway and turn. So down to the second corner they sped, The field full of legends, with Foyt just ahead.
And then, in a flash, I saw from my seat, A man advanced in age shuffling his feet. As I drew in my head and looked to the showman, Up came a man, by his face, named Tony Hulman.
He was dressed with an expensive dress shirt and pants And leaned on the rail with an elderly stance. A knapsack of water he had taken from his back, He looked like a race fan, ready at the track.
His eyes how they sparkled, his smile how wry! His face was so happy, he then started to cry. His small little mouth was drawn up like a bow, As he was happy that to Indy, he was able to go.
The base of a flag held tight in his hand, Was checkered in color and looked really grand. He had a wrinkled face and a very long gaze, As he looked towards turn four through the morning haze.
He was eager and chipper, an dashing old chap, Who in younger years would be greeted with a loud clap. As the field came around four he raised up the flag, black and white, The field came charging closer. Oh, what a sight!
Hulman looked silently at the field up in the north, While the spectators down below shuffled back and forth. The field came closer to the flag stand and then, He waved the checkered flag, again and again.
As the field passed through the main straight with grace, He was amazed while standing upon his high place. A smile then appeared as it was said from his face, “Happy Indy to all, and to all a good race!”