It All Started the Day He Asked Dad for Keys

It is the fondest wish of most fathers that their offspring will take over the family business. Take care of it, maybe, even, make it better.

It seldom happens. Ministers’ sons become wastrels. A general’s son marches in peace parades and shoulders flowers, not arms. An asbestos heir becomes a playboy. A banker’s son joins the circus. If Papa was in the garment business, his first born may prefer interior decorating. And so on.

And then you come to auto racing. . . .

It’s not a sport, it’s a dynasty. Like the Hapsburgs and the Hohenzollerns, you’re born into it. Titles pass from father to son. It’s the last stand of royalty in this country.

Usually, when you’re born into a family business, you see the downside of it. The long stretches of semi-bankruptcy, the fall-off in sales, the struggle to make ends meet, the buildup, the long hours, the double-crosses, the bad guesses. The hard work that goes into “success.” You want no part of it.

But there have been four great names in Indy car racing history over the past few decades--the Foyts, Parnelli Joneses, Unsers. And, of course, the Andrettis.

The name Andretti became synonymous with racing speed. If you piloted the family sedan too fast or too recklessly, your wife cut you down with sardonic, “OK, who do you think you are--Andretti?” Or, “You think you could slow it down, Mario--we’re not after the pole?” The speed cop would be sarcastic. “Oh, it’s just you--I thought it was Mario Andretti.”

The name went into the language as a symbol for 220-m.p.h. speed and daring in the corners. What Willie Mays was to baseball, Mario Andretti was to racing--an icon, a recognizable name even to non-fans.

But often, the story ends there. By and large, the bigger the star the father was, the less likely a son was to follow in his footsteps--or tire treads, for that matter. The sins of the father may be visited on the sons. But not always the talent.

Until you come to Indy car racing. There, bloodlines become as accepted a part of the game as in horse racing. At times, the starting grid in an Indy car race looks like a family picnic. It sometimes seems as if everybody is named Unser or Andretti. Fathers and sons all over the place. It’s a bar mitzvah.

One result is, there may come a day when, if your wife demands, “Who do you think you are--Andretti?” you won’t know whether she means Mario or Michael.

Mario left his mark on the American scene as few racers ever have. Rookie of the year at Indy in 1965, winner of Indy in ‘69, he has been the man to beat in every race he ever entered.

But it’s getting more and more difficult to see which Andretti has his name in lights. The great Mario, in 29 years, won 51 Indy car races, he was second in 54, including two Indianapolis 500s.

Michael, in 10 years, has won 22 Indy car races and has been second in 12.

Since 1986, Michael Andretti has won more races (22), amassed more PPG Cup points (1,018), led more laps (3,119) than any other driver. He has been on more poles (21) than all but one driver, Rick Mears (22).

If he were a first-generation driver, he would be having ticker-tape parades. Appearing on the cover of People. This way, he’s a sequel. He’s a Son-Of in the captions.

Michael saw all of this firsthand. He saw the crashes, ignition failures, problems with getting a good car, a good sponsor, a good set-up, the downside.

“He knew what it was going to be like to have no holidays, no Sundays, restricted time with the family--all the negatives,” acknowledges his father, Mario.

It didn’t matter. You might think Michael would prefer to be the first in his family to be a doctor, governor, an accountant, actor, a lawyer, Secretary of State.

Michael shakes his head. “I never wanted to be anything but a race driver. I never wanted to be anywhere but in a race car. I’m sure there are lots of people who love what they’re doing. There are accountants who love accounting. But I feel lucky to be able to do what I love doing.”

It is only fitting that an Andretti come to this week’s Toyota Grand Prix of Long Beach this week as the PPG Cup champion. But this M. Andretti is second generation. Michael won eight times and had 11 top-three finishes in the Indy car World Series last year.

As usual, at Long Beach this weekend, the last thing you want on the track is to see an Andretti in your rearview mirror. Michael won this race six years ago but the last four years, like everyone else, he has been chasing another scion of a great father, Al Unser Jr., who has won this thing four times in a row.

Michael is 29 victories and 42 poles behind the founder of the family business. A John D. Rockefeller can bequeath it all to his heirs in trust funds, annuities and bonds. Michael’s father bequeathed him in genes, glands, reflexes, eyesight, an ability to think clearly even at 240 m.p.h. or with four cars bunched in a short chute. These are things you can’t get at the family bank.

But, obviously, what he inherited was more valuable than stock coupons, more rare than gold. He inherited the racer’s edge. You can’t put that in a will or under the Christmas tree.

Some people can say “thanks, Dad,” when a parent hands them Standard Oil or the New York Yankees. Michael can say it when he gets to Victory Lane at Indy. Michael acknowledges he wants to win his Indy one of these years, but he says, “It’s not going to become an obsession with me.”

He says it’s not so bad chasing a legend when that legend is your father. He’s proud that Andretti & Son is a thriving company founded in this country in 1958. Being an Andretti is honor enough.

Being the Andretti will take a bit more doing, particularly when you, too, may get an Andretti in your rearview mirror to worry about.

Your father.

Making you earn your inheritance.