Indy 500 miracle: How IMS radio broadcast comes together

Paul Page is stuck in a car on Georgetown Road, traffic in every direction. Stuck with nowhere to go.

It's the morning of the Indianapolis 500. And Page can't get to Indianapolis Motor Speedway.

That's a problem.

Page is the voice, the anchor of IMS Radio Network, which on this morning will put on its 64th iconic broadcast of the Indy 500, a broadcast that stands out — and stands alone — in a sea of media clutter.

The Indy 500 is, arguably, the last major sporting event in the world that many people still prefer to listen to on radio. A local television blackout contributes to that, but the broadcast's reach far exceeds Central Indiana.

In 2014, nearly 11 million people tuned in to the race that is broadcast worldwide, with 400 affiliates, satellite radio, online streaming and downloadable podcasts. While the number of affiliates is dwarfed by the Super Bowl, it exceeds events such as the NCAA tournament and Preakness.

So, it's a good thing for Page that this traffic nightmare is just that — a nightmare.

"I never can sleep the night before the 500," Page said Sunday morning. "When I do sleep, I have the dream I am in a car stuck on Georgetown Road.

"This race is just so damn huge."

Huge in auto racing, for sure. Huge in radio, even moreso.

The Indianapolis Star was granted a rare glimpse at something, by definition, few ever see: The Indy 500's radio broadcast.

It doesn't matter that the Indy 500 is televised globally. Or that there are more than 200,000 fans at the track watching live. People still listen on the radio.

They mute televisions to watch and turn the radio on. They sit at family picnics under shade trees with the radio blaring. They fill the stands at IMS watching with their own eyes, an announcer calling the race. Yet, they drown that out with the sounds of the radio broadcast emanating from their headsets.

"It's not just another game or race. It's the big one," said Chris Denari, IMS Radio's turn 4 reporter. "You're always thinking about the moment and where it will be in history because you are always going to be a part of it."

And how that all comes together, how this team of guys — inside the booth, on the turns, in the pits — manages to call a 200-lap race with cars coming at them at 200-plus miles per hour is fascinating.

How they call it seamlessly, switching from one reporter to the next within split seconds is a feat you have to see to believe.

"No. It's not as easy as it looks," Page said. "It happens because it's a team, a regular team."

The Indy 500 isn't the only race most of these guys call. IMS Radio, owned by the track, broadcasts all races in the Verizon IndyCar Series, Indy Lights and the Brickyard 400.

Of course, this day of the Indy 500 is big. It's the 99th running. It's an American tradition. There are jitters and nerves. But first, there is calm.

***

It's 9:30 a.m. Sunday inside Page's booth on the 9th floor of the Pagoda — and it's standing room only. This is the pre-race meeting where last minute questions are answered, a rally of sorts.

There are turn reporters Jake Query, Jerry Baker, Mark Jaynes and Denari. There are pit reporters Dave Furst, Kevin Lee, Nick Yeoman, Michael Young and Doug Rice. IMS Radio's general manager Wally Leavitt is there. The broadcast this race day will also include Dave Wilson, Davy Hamilton and Donald Davidson.

"Just remember this team is the best there is," Page tells the group. "It's going to be a hell of a day."

First, Leavitt gives the team a reminder.

"Keep the chatter down on intercom," he says. Intercom is the way the broadcast team talks to one another off air. Too much chatter and it's tough to make the calls.

Page reminds the team, as soon as there is a caution flag, the broadcast should go to break. Might as well get commercials in while the cars are driving slowly.

Put on sunscreen. Keep cell phones off in the booth. Let the turn reporters call the first 20 laps and the last 20 laps, Yeoman says.

Unless there is a fuel finish, "Then pit guys can step in," he says. And as soon as the race is finished, "Pit guys start grabbing owners, engineers and wives," he adds.

"You want us to stay up after white flag or checkered flag for observation?" Query asks.

Yes, Page says, unless the weather's bad. "If it's raining or storming, we'll want to get you out as soon as possible."

And finally, Page's last words to this group about ready to make radio magic happen.

"Make everything sparkle," he says. "You guys are the best. It's an honor to work with you. Now, go kick butt."

***

Query takes the directions to heart. He heads off to Turn 2 for his ninth year calling the Indy 500. He's up in his stand nearly two hours before the race starts.

He's not nervous, he says. He's excited. There is no other race quite like this one for Query, who travels with IMS Radio. For him, this is Christmas Day.

"It's the only sporting event left where the 10-year-old me comes out again," he says. "I love the sights, the sounds. I get the feeling again I did as a kid here with my dad."

As the race nears, the broadcasters joke over the intercom.

"This beats working for a living," Query says to Jaynes.

"Everyday of the year, bro," Jaynes replies.

Query says there is a feeling of making history each time he calls an Indy 500.

"What are we going to see today that we will be talking about 20 years from now?" he says.

It doesn't take long to find out. On the very first lap of the race, a crash happens right in front of Query. Sage Karam into the wall. Query has to call it quickly as the rest of the cars whiz past.

Within minutes, Hamilton has Karam on the air, an unhappy Karam, a disappointed Karam.

This is what the radio can do. That no other media can do. Live, minute-by-minute calls and in-race interviews of the Indy 500.

***

In the turns, there are spotters. The reporter has to see so much so quickly, that it helps to have someone else up in the basket.

"I am essentially just an extra set of eyes," said Rolando Arroyo, who is working his sixth Indy 500 for Query.

Should Query be looking the opposite way of a major crash or on-track takeover, Arroyo nudges him so Query will turn his attention that way.

"I have almost a nonexistent role here," he says. "It's just such a blessing to play a small part of it. This is the best seat in the house. It's where the magic happens."

Lap after lap after lap, the magic happens. The broadcast switching from Baker to Query to Jaynes to Denari. Then to the pits. Then back to Page. Then a historic tidbit from Davidson. Then a race analysis from Hamilton. Then back to Page.

Ed Carpenter crashes at 2:06 p.m.

"A major crash in Turn 1. You can see it coming," Baker says, almost before the fans even see it. "That's almost identical to the one he did last year with 25 laps to go."

It takes a historic knowledge of the drivers and of the race to be able to make these calls. And with each call, these reporters say they feel like they're making history.

***

Sid Collins was the first anchor for IMS Radio when it was founded in 1952. He stayed until 1976. He was such an icon, he's been dubbed "The Voice of the 500."

One of his most notable moments in broadcasting came during the 1964 Indy 500.

A fiery crash erupted on the main stretch. Eddie Sachs and Dave MacDonald were killed. Without any rehearsal, in virtually seconds, Collins delivered an impromptu eulogy for Sachs on the broadcast.

The network received more than 30,000 letters, handwritten, mailed letters asking for a transcript of the on-air eulogy.

"The things that have happened on this broadcast are innumerable," Page said. "And each race, we really are making history."

Follow Star reporter Dana Benbow on Twitter: @DanaBenbow.