INDY 500 PROFILE: : THE DEFENDING CHAMPION : Life in Fast Lane Suits Him Just Fine, but He Has Remained Committed to Racing : DANNY SULLIVAN

Every night this month, on just about every TV channel around here, Danny Sullivan does his “This is how I won the Indy 500” trick, a 360-degree spin in front of Mario Andretti that defies logic, racing luck or traction.

Every time you see it, the feeling is the same: It can’t be true. No one spins at close to 200 m.p.h., comes out heading in the right direction, and wins the world’s most important race against no less than the great Andretti himself.

Sullivan has been in a spin ever since.

“My life will never be the same since I won the 500, that’s for sure,” Sullivan said in a quiet moment while preparing to defend his Indianapolis 500 title next Sunday.

No one’s life is ever the same after winning the Indianapolis 500, but on the other hand, no winner’s life has ever been like Danny Sullivan’s, either.

Sullivan has taken the Borg-Warner trophy, the diamond-studded ring, the back-to-back swigs of milk and his sponsor’s beer, and all the adulation given a champion and parlayed them into a year-long personal appearance.

Always with a captivating smile that comes as easily as recovering a spinning race car; always lit up by a pair of penetrating hazel eyes that can melt anyone from across a room or spot an unseen hole on a track clogged with race cars, and a set of teeth that are right out of a toothpaste commercial; always with a hint of a swagger, a heritage perhaps from his Kentucky upbringing, a modern day Rhett Butler.

“I work at my image,” Sullivan said matter-of-factly. “I wanted to push into areas where race drivers had never ventured. I think of myself as one of today’s new breed of race driver. Sponsors have become extremely important in our sport and they want more than a race driver, they want a face out in front that is recognizable and available.

“Look at it another way. What if I got hurt and my racing career suddenly ended. I’m 36 years old and have no college degree. I need other things to fall back on when my racing days are over. What race driver my age could retire at my life style?”

On the other hand, what other race driver could survive his life style. Sullivan’s image has been exploited in Playgirl, Penthouse and People magazines as a Hollywood playboy. True, he has partied with Christie Brinkley, Cheech and Chong and Catherine Bach. He has been linked romantically in the gossip columns with Susan Anton, Victoria Principal and Princess Caroline of Monaco. You can find James Garner, Paul Newman and Christopher Cross hanging around his car. But, still, the real Danny Sullivan is a workaholic.

How else could one handle what he has programed this week. Between signing autographs, posing for pictures, shaking hands and giving on-the-run interviews everywhere he goes, this is Sullivan’s pre-500 schedule:

Today--Fly to Chicago to appear for three hours at his sponsor’s Miller American booth at the National Restaurant Owners convention. Tape interview with Bill Macatee of the “Today Show” for a series on star athletes, including baseball’s Dwight Gooden, basketball’s Michael Jordan and skating’s Debi Thomas.

Tuesday--Fly to New York to appear on David Letterman’s late night talk show. Meet with a Brian Grazer Production Co. representative about possible TV show. Profile interview with Newsweek.

Wednesday--Appear on “CBS Morning News.” Interview with People magazine for feature on Most Eligible Bachelors in America. Fly back to Indianapolis for Indiana National Bank reception and taping for CBS’s “West 57th St.” show.

Thursday--Carburetion day at the Speedway for final shakedown of Cosworth-powered March he will drive on Sunday. Cameo appearances at Miller infield party in the afternoon and Front Row dinner in evening with teammate Rick Mears, the pole-sitter, and Michael Andretti.

Friday--Up early for ABC’s “Good Morning America” show from the Speedway. Attend Queen’s Ball, a black-tie affair at the Convention Center.

Saturday--Attend drivers’ meeting at the Speedway. Ride in 500 Festival parade through downtown Indianapolis. Have quiet dinner with team owner Roger Penske and team drivers Mears and Al Unser.

Sunday--The race.

“It is a little bit of madness, isn’t it?” he said, grinning that infectious smile after outlining his schedule.

After a race, most drivers like to wind down, relaxing at home, playing golf, going fishing or just sitting around tugging on a beer.

Not Sullivan. He runs as fast after a race as he does in it.

Take the 24 Hours of Daytona, for instance.

“I was up 40 straight hours,” Sullivan said. “I got to the track at 8 o’clock in the morning for practice and stuck around talking with A. J. (Foyt) until the race started at 4 p.m. When I wasn’t driving, I was either admiring the way A.J. drove or talking with him while Preston Henn was driving. We had a Porsche 962 and it wasn’t the fastest car there by any stretch of the imagination, but thanks to A.J., we came within a hair of winning. He showed me the pace, explained the race strategy and everything he said turned out absolutely right.

“He said, ‘Just run this pace and let those other guys go.’ We took over the lead at 10 p.m., and when the sun came up we led by 14 laps. We led to the lap hour when something broke on our car. We still finished second. I’m convinced that A.J. has forgotten more than most people will ever know about racing.

“Look what he did here last week. He hadn’t done any testing over the winter, I’ll bet he hadn’t run 15 laps all week and he gets in his car and runs 213, fifth fastest of everyone.”

After the Daytona race ended at 4 p.m., Sullivan caught a plane to New York for a business dinner. He was trying to sell a group of executives on taking a spot in his latest Louisville venture, an industrial building that he has converted to luxury apartments and a shopping arcade as part of the city’s historical landmark redevelopment program.

“I got to bed about midnight, 40 hours from when I got up,” he said.

Going with no sleep is something Sullivan has done since he was a teen-ager and he used to come home from dates long after his father, Big Dan, had left for his office. The elder Sullivan is one of Kentucky’s largest contractors and he strongly objected when his son announced at 21 that he was going to become a race driver.

“I wouldn’t say we didn’t get along, but we definitely didn’t think the same way,” Danny recalls.

Sullivan dropped out of the University of Kentucky in 1969 with a 1.7 grade-point average out of a possible 4.0. He went to New York for two weeks and stayed 2 1/2 years. To survive, he drove a cab--he spun once in Central Park with a fare, about the way he did at Indy--worked as a janitor, lumberjack in the Adirondacks, mucker on a chicken ranch and as a waiter at Maxwell’s Plum in New York.

One night a family friend, Dr. Frank Falkner, dropped by the restaurant to chat with Danny and to find out what he intended to do the rest of his life. When Sullivan blurted out, “Drive a race car,” almost as a joke, Falkner took him seriously. For a 21st birthday present, Falkner enrolled Danny in the Jim Russell School of Motor Racing, about 50 miles north of London. That was 15 years ago and racing is the only odd job he’s had since.

“Something a lot of people don’t realize who saw me win last year’s race, or saw my picture in Playgirl and the other mags, is that I paid my dues as a race-car driver,” he said. “I might have came out of nowhere, but I spent 12 or 13 years of hard work to become an overnight sensation.

“I’ll admit that from the first time I sat in one of Russell’s Formula Fords I knew I’d found a home, and I loved every minute of it, but there were times when I had to wonder where the future lay. Like the year my mechanic and I raced every weekend in England, sometimes twice a week, from March to October. I’d finish a race on Saturday, we’d load up the car and head for another track on Sunday.

“Everything is so close over there you can do that, sort of like the sprint car guys do around here in the summer. We’d sleep in the van, when we slept at all. It seems like if we weren’t on the road, we were working on the car.”

When Danny Sullivan appeared on the Feb. 14 segment of “Miami Vice”--in a featured role--the rumor mill worked overtime that the Indy winner might chuck Gasoline Alley for greasepaint.

Sullivan is still denying it.

“No matter how many offers I get to do other things, racing is my No. 1 priority and it always will be until I decide to retire. And I’ve worked too long and too hard to get where I am to quit now. I figure I’ve still got a few good races left in me.

“I do a lot of things, for a lot of reasons, but if any of them conflict with, or cramp, my racing program, I cancel them out. I’d like to do TV, but ask Paul Newman about having two careers. He tried it one year, acting and racing, and he’ll tell you it can’t be done. At least, not properly.”

Sullivan’s acting background before “Miami Vice” was limited to doing a few commercials for one of his sponsors, and narrating a documentary for National Geographic on pre-war Grand Prix cars.

“It was like I was a virgin actor,” he said. “The Alberto-Culver (commercial) called for about 30 seconds of talking, and it took me 147 takes before I finished the National Geographic script.”

Sullivan first thought about acting when he was driving a Can-Am car for Newman in 1982. But it took a trip to an Indianapolis gym shortly before last year’s Indy 500 for it to become a reality.

“I met Jerry Weintraub (then the head of United Artists) in the gym. He was going to the race as a guest of Mike Curb and U.S. Tobacco people. On Sunday, race day, he was up in a suite taking all bets on Danny Sullivan to win the race. After the race, he wanted to throw a party to celebrate my win, and his, too, so he had a big one out in L.A. after the Milwaukee race.

“Michael Mann, the executive producer of “Miami Vice,” was at the party and he asked me if I’d like to do a segment for the show. I said I’d like to try it. That was June, and it was January before we could settle on dates and stuff like that.

“They couldn’t understand why there were days I couldn’t shoot because I was off testing a car for Penske. I told them it would be like David Hasselhoff calling up to say he couldn’t show up on the set because he wanted to go racing.

“I don’t know if they ever understood what I meant, but when the shooting went two days longer than planned, I begged off one day from Roger (Penske), but on the second day, they flew me out to Laguna Seca for a tire test and back to Miami for the final shooting session. It was pretty wild.”

On the show, Sullivan played the part of a suspected murderer who had a pregnant wife.

“I had to draw on strange emotions. I’ve never been up for murder, never been married and never had a baby.”

In typical Sullivan be-prepared-manner, he worked at his role the way he works at driving a race car. Two weeks before the shooting began, Sullivan took acting lessons in New York and then brought his coach with him to Miami.

“I’d never done anything like that. I needed help,” he said. “We would read a scene together, then she would interpret my character’s mood changes and prepare me for how I should react. It’s tough, remembering where to stand, what to say and how to project a certain mood--all at the same time. It takes long hours, too. We worked 10 hours a day for seven days shooting it.

“It’s kind of like testing. When Roger (Penske) tests, it’s tougher than a race. We tested between 3,000 and 4,000 miles before the first race in Long Beach. We started 10 days after Miami.”

The Miami Grand Prix, which Sullivan won, was the final race of the 1985 season.

If there is one thing Danny Sullivan lacks that he would like, it’s privacy.

The nomadic Sullivan considers Louisville, where his parents still live, as his official home, but on an off-day he is more likely to be found in Brentwood, where he lives with his longtime girlfriend, Julie Nini, or in Aspen, where he keeps a little hideaway.

“If I had the free time to do nothing, I would go to Aspen and ride a bike or walk in the forest with Julie. It’s so peaceful up there. It’s one place where celebrities don’t get treated like celebrities. That’s why Martina (Navratilova) likes Aspen so much.

“When we’re in Brentwood, we usually stay home. That’s a novelty after being on the go so much. If we go out, it’s to a movie.”

Between last year’s Indy 500 win and Dec. 22, when he went to Aspen for two weeks over Christmas, Sullivan says he had only three days off in seven months.

“You’ve got to get it while you’re young and you’re hot, when you can still get it done,” he said.

One of the least attractive assignments Sullivan has endured during last year turned out to be one of the most timely.

“It was a funny deal,” Sullivan said with a laugh. “It was the first day of practice last year at Indy and they were shooting a commercial. I had to say, ‘Hi, I’m Danny Sullivan. I just won the Indianapolis 500 and I use Pennzoil.’

“I really felt foolish. I’d just joined Penske’s team and I had no idea what the future held. I hadn’t even been on the track. I’m sure dozens of other guys and sponsors did the same thing, but I didn’t take it too seriously. We were all joking around, but the commercial was on the air at 3:10 p.m. the day of the race.”

Sullivan had taken the checkered flag at 2:16.