Brazilians Leave Drama Out of Dance

It was a great day for celebration sambas Sunday at the Toyota Grand Prix of Sao Paulo, er, Long Beach.

Helio Castroneves, a Brazilian, won.

Cristiano da Matta, a Brazilian, finished second.

Gil de Ferran, a Brazilian, was third.

The guys who run these things could have conducted the postrace interviews in Portuguese.

They could have taped the race for theater showing in Rio de Janeiro, where last month’s scheduled CART race was canceled because the promoters had backed the wrong candidate in a mayoral race.

They could have played the Brazilian national anthem. Come to think of it, they did, when the race was over.

Yes, when it comes to CART racing these days, it’s hard to beat the Brazilians.

De Ferran is the defending series champion.

Da Matta won the season opener in Monterrey, Mexico.

Da Matta, De Ferran and Castroneves rank 1-2-3 in this season’s standings.

These guys, apparently, are the new supermen in the proud tradition of such Brazilian driving heroes as Ayrton Senna, Nelson Piquet and Emerson Fittipaldi.

But, please, could they put some excitement into it? Some intrigue? Some raciness?

What we saw Sunday was a Brazilian parade with no music. Carnaval with no rhythm.

It was Castroneves leading, lap after uneventful lap, from start to finish, his compatriots trailing in his wake, no passing intended and none tried.

This, from Brazilians, always on the cutting edge of fun?

Castroneves, in fact, was much more entertaining in the aftermath than in his winning. Once the race was over, he came alive, pointing to the front of his car patting it--”That’s my baby,” he said later--then shaking his fist in triumph.

In what has become his winning tradition, he stopped his car on the track, rather than reporting directly to the winner’s circle, and climbed the chain-link fence in front of the fans, yelling and gesturing, then later giving the new fencing a big thumbs up.

“Yeah, it’s very good,” he said. “Really stiff.”

Then he leaped off the fence, leaped into the arms of his crewmen, leaped over the car and finally made his way to victory circle, where he told everyone, “I’m here! I’m on top!”

Even Castroneves, though, was aware that the race had lacked drama.

“Most of the race was pretty tense--I couldn’t sleep at all,” he cracked at one point, after having earlier observed, “It probably was pretty boring for you guys, but it was pretty great for me.”

Not that he was apologizing for a bit of it.

“Sometimes it’s good to be the hunter, but I was feeling pretty comfortable today [leading all the way]. It was a perfect weekend, winning the pole, leading all the laps and winning the race.”

So it was, for him, agreed his fellow Brazilians.

“It’s always difficult to find a place to pass on a street course,” Da Matta said. “I thought a few times I could challenge Helio, but I couldn’t get it done.”

De Ferran, Castroneves’ Penske teammate, said: “I was just as fast as Helio and Cristiano, but they were driving very well today and didn’t leave me much chance to attack. . . . I was hoping that they would make a little mistake, but that never happened, and I was watching every single lap. My only opportunity to pass was if anyone made a mistake and from where I was sitting, it was very tense. I thought it was a pretty good race.”

All three pooh-poohed the idea of a Brazilian coup in CART.

“We’ve only had two races,” De Ferran said. “We’ve got 19 more to go.”

Echoed Da Matta: “There’s still a lot to come. I think I’m far from established [as a star]. If I do it all season, maybe . . . “

And Castroneves, who finished eighth at Monterrey, said: “I’m just doing what I know best. It would be great with a lot of wins and pole positions, but you know this series. It’s so competitive, so tough. The other drivers are going to catch up and do their best to make life difficult for us.”

And there was one strong argument against Brazilian invincibility late in the race.

During a caution period, with cars running at reduced speed behind a pace car, 11th-running Mauricio Gugelmin suddenly spun into the wall. Because he had been hit from behind by a car driven by Roberto Moreno, who had decided at that precise moment to check his gauges.

Gugelmin is a Brazilian.

So is Moreno.