Doyel: Will Power knows he should have won Indy 500

Will Power is on the back of a golf cart, being driven to the garage Sunday after losing the 99th Indy 500 to Juan Pablo Montoya by one-tenth of a second, and he cannot believe the question I just asked him. He's staring at me, thinking I'm kidding. I'm staring back, thinking he's kidding.

What I asked: If the final straightaway was twice as long, do you win that race?

What he did: Sneered.

What he said: "Of course."

Now we're staring at each other, because neither one of us is sure the other is being sincere. Sitting next to him on the golf cart, being driven through Indianapolis Motor Speedway fans screaming his name, I'm first to blink: You're serious, Will?

"Oh absolutely," he says. "I had him. I just needed more room. Just a little more room. Just a little more …"

He trails off. Team Penske pit crew members in another golf cart are catching up to us, doing what Montoya did twice to Power late in the race and passing his ride, and they're trying to be positive. They're failing.

"You had him," one tells Power, who scowls. He's cursing now, softly. He wanted this race, like everyone in the field wanted this race. It's the Indy 500. Mortals race it. Immortals win it. Will Power is arguably the greatest active driver who hasn't won this race, and Sunday he had immortality in his grasp. He led 20 of the final 25 laps. He had the fastest car at the end, after a late pit stop reduced his down force.

That pit stop gave him more speed than Montoya. But it didn't give him the grip, the control. Montoya passed Power twice during or just after a turn because he could, because his car had more downforce. The first time, passing Power in Turn 1, Montoya led for just one lap before Power passed him back. The second time, the last time, the only time that mattered, Montoya passed Power with less than three laps to go and held on for the win. Barely. By weaving to stop Power from getting the momentum needed to blow past.

"I'd have done the same," Power said.

Where Power went wrong was, he was too good at the end. He led 20 of those final 25 laps, remember – and while that's where you want to be, it's not where you want exclusively to be. Not at the end of a 200-lap race where the car handles one way for 175 laps, and then handles another way. At the end of this race Will Power had no idea how much he could push his car on the turns. Montoya knew. Montoya could push hard and get away with it, but Power didn't know. Car set-up is a give-and-take of speed and grip, and Power finished the race with more speed than Montoya. But Montoya had more grip.

"The only thing I could've done is not lead," Power said, being completely serious. "I didn't spend enough time in second place understanding what was in the car there. (Montoya) did. So it was a smart race."

So Montoya ran a smarter race? Maybe. Power wasn't sure.

"It's a difficult position, right? If it goes yellow (late) you win the race (if you're leading)," Power said, "so I fought hard to make sure I'm leading the whole time."

And he almost did – 20 of those final 25 laps, starting with an ice-cold pass of Justin Wilson in Lap 175. Wilson didn't belong there, didn't have enough car to lead this race, but when the leaders went into the pits late for gas he stayed on the track and was gifted the lead. Power had no respect for Wilson's car, cut off his air, dared Wilson to do something about it. And Wilson did: He let Power roar past.

This was Power's race, see. Locked in? Man, you should have seen him walk onto the track before it began, out onto the grid with all those beautiful automobiles lined up like oversized Matchbox cars. The way they do it at the Indy 500, they introduce drivers row by row. Three at a time, drivers stepped onto a stage in front of the grandstand, greeting the crowd. One at a time, the public-address announcer introduces each driver. Thirty-three drivers started this race. Thirty-two of them waved to the crowd.

Will Power did not. He was that focused.

I asked him about that in the golf cart, and he said that wasn't intensity. That was crowd noise.

"I couldn't hear my name," he said.

The other 32 drivers could hear their names, I told Power.

"Fine," he said, and not petulantly.

Power's wife was similarly intense. She spent the final 20 laps chewing on a bottle of water, not drinking it but literally chewing on it. She handed the bottle to Power after the race, and he grimaced at the gnarled plastic. He could see how much she wanted this race.

Power wanted it too. He walked into the post-race news conference, saw third-place finisher Charlie Kimball giving a soliloquy, and used the time to watch the ABC feed being piped into the room. ABC was showing Montoya at the end, crossing the bricks and pumping a fist. Power took a long pull on his water bottle and kept watching.

Moments later Power looked at the screen again. Now ABC was showing what was happening live on the track, and what was happening was Montoya's victory lap in front of 200,000 screaming fans.

Power took a shorter sip, and looked away.

"Anywhere else I'd be happy with second," Power said, "but here? It sucks."

A few minutes later Power was rolling toward the garage on the golf cart. A fan yelled at him, "You should have won, Will!"

Power said softly, "Yeah, I should have."

The cart slowed as it neared his Penske garage bay. Power looked at me and spit out a single word before hopping off and walking away.

"S-cond," he said.

Can't spell it out. Not the way Will Power said it. He made second place sound like a profanity.

Find Star columnist Gregg Doyel on Twitter at@GreggDoyelStar or atwww.facebook.com/gregg.doyel