Audi Presents Petit Le Mans - 06/10/2001   Performance at Petit Sylvia Proudfoot   Like the sun ascending, the sight of Sylvia Proudfoot in the paddock, media center or pit row, is something that is taken for granted. She is always on the job. The releases from Proudfoot are always the first to arrive before, during and after a race. Although Sylvia has an extensive background in media relations and sports events, such as the 1988 Calgary Olympics, motorsports is her prime arena. Paying her dues in Indy car racing with organizations such as Players and Team KOOL Green, she has been a highly visible cog in the machine that is the ALMS. If it has anything to do with BMW, you will find Sylvia at the center. She is much more than just some hack typing out press talking points, Sylvia handles programs for sponsors, team planning and the all important area of driver development. Ever wonder how JJ Lehto knows where he should be during race weekend ? You guessed it.. The native of Calgary, Alberta is funny, thoughtful and articulate. And she is on TotalMotorSport... Kerry Morse 2001 Petit Le Mans, Road Atlanta, Georgia Monday, 1 October - travel Last race of the season, usually bittersweet, but tinged this year with recent world tragedies. I meet Johnny O'Connell in the Atlanta airport and applaud his efforts to host a charity auction. I've arranged for contributions from BMW's Formula One and ALMS teams; Johnny is thrilled. I survive the Atlanta rush-hour and arrive at the paddock, where the ever-efficient BMW Motorsport team has driver autograph cards ready and waiting for tomorrow's promotion. No team rep is as spoiled as I am! It's dinnertime in our hospitality tent, so I grab a plate of pasta and chat with Karl Wendlinger, who is joining the team for this race. Then back to the transporter to see Charly Lamm, our amazing team manager. I never tire of watching Charly in action. He has an uncanny ability to see both the big picture and the tiniest detail of every program element. He commands ultimate respect from the crew, but is one of the boys when we stop for a beer after the race. He deftly mixes humor with serious business and, most important, respects every individual on the team. The result is an ultra-professional crew that will do whatever it takes to win. There is always a lineup to see Charly, so I talk fast! Urgent matters covered, I head to the hotel, confirm interviews, call the drivers to coordinate promotions. Bed. Early. Tuesday, 2 October - promotions It's difficult to remember dates during a race week because the days are defined by the activity. Day one is travel, day two promotions, then test day, practice, qualifying, race and travel again. Who needs a calendar? I meet the drivers and lead our mini-convoy downtown. Fredrik Ekblom is navigating in English and talking on his mobile phone in Swedish, Dirk Muller is asleep in the back. Jorg and Julia Muller and JJ Lehto follow. We arrive at Centennial Square and JJ does a short interview with a reporter who doesn't know his name, the name of the series or what's happening this weekend. "A big race," JJ patiently explains. The other teams arrive for an autograph session, and then the drivers head off to a mall. I hate shopping, so I'm happy to go back to work. Fiona Miller (Panoz) and I have lunch en route to the track, I report to Charly and stop by the media center. Cell phones don't work at the track and the land lines are down, so back to the hotel. In addition to my work with BMW, I provide management services for several drivers. I check flights and upgrades, order rush delivery of a cool vest from Germany, scan the advance weather reports. I'm also involved with the Trans-Am Series, as a reporter and driver manager. The series finale is in Houston this weekend, so I set up contacts to stay on top of what's happening there. Dinner with Bill Cobb, my counterpart at BMW Team PTG, to compare notes and make sure our efforts complement each other. He's a good friend and a great colleague, so the evening is delightful. Check e-mail, zap files to Europe where morning is soon, lights out. Wednesday, 3 October - test day I head to the upstairs media center assigned to team reps. Porsche's Andy Schupack tells me we have a crisis: No phone service! I set up my equipment, push a button, and I'm online. As I move around the room, others connect. I'm magic! I offer to sell my presence to anyone who wants to file a race report on Saturday ... On track, BMW is 1-2-3-4, nice. I tour the deadline media center and announcer's booth, talk to the ALMS Radio Web guys. I suggest they look at the new BMW M3 GTR street car in our paddock and confirm that JJ and Jorg are in different cars to max our chances to win the GT driver and team championships. (We've already won the manufacturer title.) I meet with a team manager who's checking talent for next year. Then dinner with reps from Audi, GM, Michelin and Panoz. Despite the image of p.r. people as wine-swilling socialites, dinner is low-key and we're home by 8:45 pm. More e-mail, talk to a driver client about strategy for '02, bedtime. Life on the road is great, but far from glamorous! Thursday, 4 October - practice Given the track telephone problems, I decide to work at the hotel for a while. Unfortunately, so does everyone else, and we blow the whole telephone system! So I'm track-bound. I deliver a bottle of bubbly to our wonderful registrars, Cindy Robinson and Carol Mueller. Our first contact at every track, they make sure we have everything we need. A salute to you, ladies! The phones are now working - YES!!! We set up our equipment, and then troop downstairs for the series p.r. meeting. Like school children, we all try to hide in the back row. Racing - a haven for those who don't want to grow up - is the perfect home for us! A BMW p.r. meeting follows in our motorhome, which Bill Cobb calls "the rock-star bus". My client, Martina Kleer, and my counterpart in Formula One, Heike Hientzsch, run through our duties to make sure everything is covered. The practice sessions are uneventful, but reporters start to arrive, so life gets busy. I go to the classy Michelin media dinner, where I distribute announcer notes to the television talent. They're set, so I race back for my favorite track time - night practice. There's a magic to racing at night that defies description. I don't want to miss a moment. Unfortunately, the session is punctuated by a big crash, as a wayward Viper takes JJ out. He reports by radio that the car is destroyed. I run to the medical center with our team doctor, Vincenzo Tota. JJ is okay, but the car is badly damaged. The crew will strip it to the bare chassis and hopefully rebuild it in time to qualify tomorrow. I get comments from JJ and Charly to update the media. It's late and we won't know anything more until 3 am, so I ask the drivers to sign firesuits for tomorrow's auction and head home. Friday, 5 October - qualifying This is usually the busiest day at the Petit Le Mans. It's dark when I leave the hotel, daylight when I arrive at the track, with a spectacular sunrise in between. The early mist hangs in the trees like a setting for an adventure novel. I'm greeted by a tired crew, who worked until 4 am and returned to the track at 6 am. The good news is that the chassis was intact, so everyone is working feverishly to finish the bodywork before this afternoon's qualifying. The day is packed with interviews, photo sessions, media conferences and informal chats with reporters, who seem to be arriving by the hundreds. During two series conferences, I count the number of times Le Mans, Panoz and Petit are mispronounced. 'Way too many, considering their importance. For the record, messieurs, the N and S in Le Mans aren't pronounced, the A in Panoz is hard and the second T in Petit is silent. Next class, we'll practice Trois-Rivieres ... Back on track, it feels like I've run the stairs over the bridge to the media center and up the hill to hospitality a gazillion times before noon. (Of course, they are at opposite corners of the infield.) Despite daily training, my legs start to hurt. Finally, we qualify at 4:15 pm. It's raining when we start, then drying. JJ gambles on slicks and scores a record pole position - in the car that was rebuilt and ready just five minutes before the session! Dirk qualifies a close second. The exhausted crew is elated, sharing the high fives usually reserved for a race win. With luck, all goes like clockwork. I get quotes from the drivers and Charly, send my media report and grab JJ for the pole media conference. The reporters are as excited as we are, and we happily accept their congrats to the team. Delayed by the kudos, I regretfully miss Johnny's auction and hustle to dinner with BMW's international media guests. I sit with JJ, Jorg and Fredrik, all in prime form. Fun, but tomorrow's race day, so no one lingers. Saturday, 6 October - race I've been in the business a long time, but I still get excited on race day. I cross the silent hotel parking lot, anticipating the day ahead. It's dark all the way to the track, raining by the time I arrive. Ow! Who wants to wear a soggy firesuit for 10 hours? It's pouring by the time I climb the hill to hospitality for breakfast. The morning disappears with last-minute details. I'm running again - to PTG to borrow a flag for the polesitter parade, the media center to don a firesuit, the transporter for my radio, the grid to meet JJ, the parade location. As I scramble for JJ's trademark sunglasses, I learn that his co-drivers are also expected for the parade. It's too late for Fredrik, who is having a massage, but I find Karl and he joins JJ just in time, as the parade cars start to roll. I walk the grid, shaking hands with friends on other teams, wishing everyone a safe race. We line up beside our flag-draped cars for the pre-race ceremonies. La Marseillaise is sung, honoring the international heritage of the series, followed by the Star-Spangled Banner. I wish both anthems were a part of every race. To pit lane, home for the next 10 hours. BMW Motorsport has a comfortable space, with crew zones for each car and an area where we can watch the telecast and timing monitors, eat and rest. As far as I know, we're the only team that always has an espresso machine in pit lane! Vincenzo's medical room is just across from us in the paddock. Putting on my headset is like entering another world, of calm and absolute focus. It's almost like being underwater, with even the roar of the engines muted. From outside, pit lane looks like a mass of churning energy. From inside, it's more like a well-choreographed ballet, with everyone moving purposely to where they need to be. The race starts with a bang - literally - as a prototype crashes at the green flag. A bunch of cautions follow. For every pitstop, I notify the television and ALMS Radio Web reporters and the Speedvision and ALMS pit assistants. That often means running the entire pit lane to find everyone. (No need for workouts on a race weekend!) I give them as much information as I have from our engineers, so they can cover our team accurately. As class leaders, we get a lot of attention. I update the reporters roaming pit lane and visit the media center and announcer's booth as often as I can. At five hours, I collect comments from the drivers for my half-distance report. I'm in the media center, almost finished writing, when there's another full-course caution. I run the bridge again, grateful that Charly chose a pit-lane location so close. Finally, the race settles down after seven hectic hours. I work my way through the media center, answering questions and distributing information. I check on Trans-Am, learn that Justin Bell has won the race and Paul Gentilozzi is the champion. My client, 2000 champion Brian Simo, led most of the race and finished second in the championship. After a tough season, it's great news. Back for my favorite time of the race, as the sun sets, the lights come on and everyone bundles into warm coats. The reality of endurance racing sinks in as I run pit lane, seeing all the empty spaces where teams started the day with high expectations and hopes for a big win. Just finishing this race is an achievement. An hour to go and trouble hits. During a driver change, Jorg points to the windshield to show it needs cleaning. Adrenaline pumping, he swipes the window a couple of times and we're penalized for too many crew members working on the car. The SportsCar code requires a 20-second penalty, but we get 60 seconds, per ACO regulations. Charly goes to race control to plead our case, but to no avail. We lose the class lead - and likely victory - serving the penalty. Meantime, we've had a long pit stop for the other car. The crew had to remove the splitter, damaged in contact with another car, and we lose two laps. Down two already, it puts us out of contention. We finish a disappointing second and fourth, but the crew is jubilant because Jorg is the new GT driver champion and BMW Motorsport has won the team title. We swarm the pit wall to applaud our cars and the class-winning BMW Team PTG car. The crew wave giant flags, fireworks boom overhead and I'm flung in the air as hugs replace our usual handshakes. Serious magic. Podium pandemonium follows, with more hugs and handshakes with the drivers and teams who've won the other classes. Jorg and I go to the media center for his champion media conference, then I start writing the final report. As I finish, it disappears from my computer. What??? It's midnight, I'm tired and I'm starting all over again. Aaargh!!! Work finally completed, I stop at hospitality, where the crew is celebrating the triple championship and Fredrik's birthday. I have a quick glass of wine and head for home. It's been a long day and I'm too tired to celebrate. Tomorrow ... Sunday, 7 October - banquet I'm usually sleeping on planes by now. But the ALMS banquet is this eve, so we stay an extra day. I run errands, catch up on reports and monitor the news from Afghanistan. By early afternoon, I can't keep my eyes open, so I opt for a power nap ... but it doesn't happen. The phone rings, I find more tasks to complete and the afternoon is gone. Time for the black-tie affair at the Chateau Elan. I join friends for a photo of our tiny group, dubbed the Fab5. Last year, Oreca's Cara de Vlaming caught a piece of metal in her eye and arrived at a pre-race dinner wearing a patch. We met her next day on the grid with sympathy patches. This year's photo is to let her know how much we miss her. In the elegant banquet hall, I'm honored to sit at the front table with BMW Motorsport director Dr. Mario Theissen, the GTR chief designer Albert Biermann, team owner Herbert Schnitzer, Charly, JJ and Jorg. I'm on my best behavior! Dinner is fun, as we collect trophies for the manufacturer, team and driver championships. Wolfgang Egger wins mechanic of the year and proudly accepts in his dashing lederhosen, the Bavarian black-tie equivalent. More hardware on the table. JJ and Jorg share the GT personalities-of-the-year award from Le Mans Series and SportsCar Racer magazine. After complaining about receiving only one trophy for a race win, they finally get two! As we compare the Hollywood-style presentations to conventional European prize giving, I realize our team members come from at least a dozen countries, and each of us speaks at least two languages. I make a note to get the numbers for next year's media guide. The room clears quickly, but the team wants to celebrate. Sunday in Georgia means no store liquor sales, so we head to the lounge. After midnight, since it's now Monday, we stop at a convenience store for wine and beer. No go. Only in Georgia is Sunday a 30-hour day! So the crew scrounges some beer and we share a final nightcap in the hotel lobby. To use one of Dirk's favorite words, the evening has been brilliant, a fitting end to a remarkable season. Copyright ©2000-©2023 TotalMotorSport