What Makes the Indy 500 the ‘Greatest Spectacle in Racing’?

Every motorsport fan has their own answer when asked what the greatest race in the world is.

Some will point towards the glamour of the Monaco Grand Prix, where Formula One cars dance millimetres from barriers through the streets of Monte Carlo. Others will argue nothing compares to the endurance and unpredictability of the 24 Hours of Le Mans, where drivers, teams and machines are pushed to their absolute limits across an entire day. Others will argue races like the 24 Hours of Nurburgring, Silverstone’s F1 round, Bathurst 6 Hours, Coca Cola 600, the list goes on.

But then there is Indianapolis, which not just hosts a race in May, it becomes May.

That is what separates the Indy 500 from almost everything else in motorsport. It is not simply a sporting event squeezed into a weekend schedule, it is an entire city-wide ritual that takes over the wider state of Indiana for a month. Streets become lined with Speedway flags, restaurants fill with race fans debating qualifying speeds and record holders, and entire neighbourhoods begin preparing for race weekend weeks in advance. Even people with little interest in motorsport know exactly what month it is.

And once you experience it in person, you start to understand why they call it the ‘Greatest Spectacle in Racing’.

The scale of it all is almost difficult to process at first. The Indianapolis Motor Speedway itself is enormous, so large it could comfortably fit several major sporting venues inside its infield - alongside the entirety of the Vatican City too. The infield features its own festival venue and its own golf course, just to further add to the perspective of how big this venue truly is.

On race day, more than 350,000 people descend upon it, making it the largest single-day sporting event in the world by attendance. Yet despite those staggering numbers, there remains something surprisingly personal about the Indy 500.

That contradiction is what makes the event so fascinating. Because even though this is one of the biggest races on Earth, it still somehow feels accessible.

You can walk through Gasoline Alley and stand metres away from mechanics rebuilding cars worth millions of dollars and you can casually bump into drivers around the circuit during the month and you can sit in grandstands surrounded by families who have been attending the race for generations and are more than happy to explain traditions to complete strangers. Compared to the increasingly sanitised experience surrounding modern Formula One and other racing series around the world, the Indy 500 still feels refreshingly human.

And perhaps that is why the event has survived for more than a century.

The reason Indianapolis can dedicate an entire month to racing comes down to what the Speedway was originally designed to be. When Carl Fisher, James Allison, Arthur Newby and Frank Wheeler built the Indianapolis Motor Speedway in 1909, it was never intended to be just another racetrack. America’s automotive industry was booming and manufacturers needed somewhere to test both reliability and speed. The original surface was a mixture of gravel and tar before eventually being paved with 3.2 million bricks, giving the circuit its famous nickname: The Brickyard.

Two years later, on May 30th, 1911, the first Indianapolis 500 was held.

Forty cars lined up in front of approximately 85,000 spectators, with Ray Harroun eventually winning in the Marmon Wasp. At the time, a 500-mile race sounded borderline absurd: it was dangerous, physically exhausting and mechanically punishing, but that challenge became the entire identity of the event.

More than a century later, remarkably little has changed philosophically as the cars are dramatically faster, safer and more advanced, but Indianapolis still rewards exactly the same thing it did in 1911: bravery.

That is why the race sits alongside Monaco and Le Mans as motorsport’s unofficial Triple Crown.

Each race tests drivers in entirely different ways. Monaco demands relentless precision, where even the smallest mistake usually ends in a barrier. Le Mans is a test of endurance, traffic management and mechanical sympathy over 24 unforgiving hours. Indianapolis, meanwhile, tests something altogether different: bravery and commitment.

There are very few places left in motorsport where drivers consistently sustain speeds above 230mph while separated from concrete walls by only inches. Watching it on television never truly conveys just how violent those speeds look in person and from the grandstands, the cars almost blur together as they sweep through the corners, generating a sound that feels less like traditional circuit racing and more like fighter jets repeatedly launching themselves into battle.

And yet somehow the month surrounding the race is not entirely serious. That balance between prestige and complete absurdity is part of the charm.

The Month of May begins relatively calmly with the Indy GP on the infield road course before slowly escalating into controlled chaos. Practice sessions stretch across weeks as teams obsess over tiny aerodynamic gains and changing track conditions. Then the qualifying weekend arrives and suddenly the entire atmosphere changes.

At most races, qualifying is simply part of the schedule. However, at Indianapolis, qualifying is an event in itself. Drivers attempt four-lap average runs at terrifying speeds while balancing outright pace against a car that becomes increasingly unstable with every lap. The margins are microscopic and tiny shifts in wind direction can completely alter a run and one slight error entering a corner at over 230mph can instantly destroy a month’s worth of preparation.

And then comes race week.

Carb Day might genuinely be one of the strangest traditions in global motorsport. Officially, it is the final practice session before the race alongside the pit stop challenge. Unofficially, it feels like an enormous festival where the entire infield collectively decides productivity is no longer important.

Walking through the infield on Carb Day offers the best chance to experience the festival atmosphere as you walk through the merch and activation village where various season and team sponsors give away free merch as well as getting an up close and personal view of cars built by Honda and Chevrolet.

Turns Three and Four also offer a glimpse into a completely different side of the Indy 500. Sitting beside the Snake Pit, a festival area in the heart of the infield near Turn Three, this part of the Speedway feels like an event within an event. Throughout  the race weekend, thousands descend upon it to barbecue, drink, dance and generally embrace the organised chaos. The grass rarely survives, quickly turning into a muddy battleground of drinking games, booming music and questionable decisions. It's loud, chaotic and unmistakably American, but somehow that energy feels perfectly at home within the wider spectacle of the Indy 500.

And then there is the Wienie 500. Yes, this is a real thing.

Six giant hot dog vehicles racing around the Yard of Bricks while thousands of fully grown adults passionately support their favourite sausage-shaped truck like it is the closing laps of the actual Indy 500. Sitting in the infield watching the chaos unfold, I found myself surrounded by fans screaming for the Chi Dog with genuine emotional investment.

It was one of those deeply American moments where you simply sit back and think: this could only happen here. But somehow that ridiculousness exists comfortably alongside one of the most prestigious races on Earth.

The following day shifts tone completely.

Legends Day brings autograph sessions, fan events and meet-and-greets before the focus moves into downtown Indianapolis for the driver’s parade. I had massively underestimated what this parade would actually be. In Britain, a city parade is usually a fairly quick affair, maybe an hour if you are lucky.

Indianapolis approaches things differently - the parade lasts nearly two and a half hours and feels less like a traditional sporting event procession and more like a celebration of the entire state of Indiana. Marching bands from colleges and high schools flood the streets, community groups pass through one after another, and giant inflatables drift above the crowds while sponsors throw merchandise into packed grandstands lining downtown.

And then, in between all of it, come the drivers. I was fortunate enough to spend the parade alongside some incredibly passionate Danish fans whilst wearing a McLaren shirt, which meant Christian Lundgaard seemed very aware he had support waiting for him before race day. The entire atmosphere felt strangely wholesome and for all the scale and prestige surrounding the Indy 500, there remains a warmth to the event that never disappears.

That warmth extends across the entire city during race week. Houses proudly fly Indianapolis Motor Speedway flags beside American flags, local car groups host special events and themed meets, and businesses completely embrace the race. Even the city’s identity temporarily shifts around it.

And then suddenly it is Sunday.

Race day at the Indy 500 starts absurdly early. With over 350,000 people attempting to enter the same venue, organisation becomes essential. Our group was awake before 5am and heading towards the Speedway by 7am.

So, what exactly do you do when you arrive at a racetrack five hours before the green flag? You tailgate.

For anyone unfamiliar with the concept, tailgating is essentially the great American tradition of turning a car park into a giant social gathering involving barbecues, beers and motorsport discussions before the event begins. Across parking lots surrounding the Speedway, thousands of fans cook breakfast beside pickup trucks whilst debating strategy predictions and arguing over who will win.

As a bizarre mixture of Brits, Americans and Danes, our own conversations naturally became focused around who we wanted to see victorious that afternoon. To the despair of the Danish contingent, the eventual answer turned out to be a Swede.

Eventually, around 11am, the migration into the Speedway begins and this is where the scale of the event truly becomes overwhelming.

Grandstands stretch endlessly around the circuit while fans continue pouring through entrances in waves. The pre-race ceremonies begin with driver introductions before gradually building towards one of the most iconic moments in motorsport: the command to start engines.

But before that comes the national anthem. At 12:24pm, the Speedway falls almost completely silent. Hats come off and conversations stop. Memorial Day weekend adds an additional layer of significance to the event, and you can feel that importance throughout the ceremonies. Military flyovers thunder overhead while tributes are paid to fallen service members.

Then comes the moment everybody is waiting for. “Drivers, start your engines!”

Suddenly the silence disappears beneath the sound of 33 IndyCars erupting into life simultaneously. Even if you are not an IndyCar fan, it is difficult not to feel something at that moment.

The formation laps somehow feel just as dramatic as the race itself. Two military Black Hawk helicopters shadow the field around the Speedway before peeling away as the cars approach the final corners. The green flag waves and instantly 33 drivers launch themselves into Turn One at over 220mph.

The remarkable thing is how many narratives exist simultaneously within the Indy 500. There is always a story somewhere in the field.

Helio Castroneves arrives once again attempting to become the first driver in history to win the race five times. Even at his age, nobody truly dismisses the possibility. Castroneves has won across multiple eras, teams and regulations, including a remarkable victory in 2021 with Meyer Shank Racing, a team that had never previously won an IndyCar race at all.

Mick Schumacher arrives at his first Indianapolis 500 carrying perhaps one of the most intriguing stories in the field. After a difficult Formula One stint with Haas failing to deliver the results many expected, Schumacher stepped away from single-seater racing and spent several seasons in endurance competition with Alpine's WEC programme. Now, with his first full IndyCar campaign underway, Indianapolis represents more than just another race, it is an opportunity to rebuild his reputation in top-level single-seater racing and remind the motorsport world why the Schumacher name generated such excitement in the first place.

Then there was Katherine Legge attempting “The Double”, pairing the Indy 500 with NASCAR’s Coca-Cola 600 on the very same day. Only Tony Stewart has ever completed all 1,100 miles successfully. If Legge achieves it, she would become the first woman to do so and only the second person as a whole to achieve the extraordinary feat.

And you can’t rule out Alex Palou, who enters the race as arguably the favourite for victory. The reigning Indy 500 champion arrives in Indianapolis leading the IndyCar championship and chasing what would be both a second consecutive victory at the Brickyard and a remarkable fifth series title. Starting from pole position on the inside of the front row, few drivers possess stronger credentials heading into race day. Whilst others have everything to gain, Palou may well have the most to lose.

And then there was Felix Rosenqvist.

Rosenqvist’s pace throughout qualifying had already hinted something special might happen. In changing and chaotic conditions, he consistently looked among the fastest drivers across the month - netting impressive 232mph times in qualifying and the Firestone Fast 12. But Indianapolis has never cared much for logic or momentum, it rewards bravery, strategy, timing and occasionally pure luck in equal measure.

Which is why the finish felt so perfect.

After 500 miles of racing, the 110th running of the Indianapolis 500 was decided by just 0.0233 seconds between Rosenqvist and David Malukas, the closest finish in the race’s history.

Once the chequered flag falls, however, the day is still far from over because then comes one final challenge: getting 350,000 people out of Speedway.

Most sensible people avoid moving anywhere immediately after the race. So instead, the parking lots slowly come back to life. Barbecues reignite, burgers and hot dogs appear, and coolers reopen. Groups sit around exchanging stories from the afternoon whilst traffic remains gridlocked beyond the circuit.

And honestly, this might have been one of my favourite parts of the entire experience.

There was something strangely perfect about sitting around a barbecue after one of the biggest sporting events in the world whilst casually discussing strategy calls, near misses and overtakes with complete strangers who all shared the same passion. Nobody seemed in a rush to leave and the Indy 500 had become less about the race itself and more about the shared experience surrounding it.

That feeling is ultimately what makes Indianapolis so unique.

Modern motorsport increasingly feels distant from ordinary fans. Formula One in particular has evolved into an incredibly polished global entertainment product, but sometimes at the expense of accessibility and personality. Indianapolis still feels different and it still feels connected to the people attending it.

You can feel it in the traditions. The winner drinking milk in Victory Lane rather than champagne, fans grilling burgers in parking lots for hours before and after the race, Carb Day descending into organised madness, and families returning every single year to the same grandstands they have sat in for generations.

Even the city itself feels emotionally invested. For one month each year, Indianapolis revolves entirely around a racetrack. And while Monaco may have more glamour and Le Mans may carry greater endurance prestige, nowhere else in motorsport quite manages to blend scale, tradition, accessibility and atmosphere in the way the Indy 500 does.

Because the race is not just watched, it is lived.

And once you have stood amongst 350,000 people as the engines fire into life beneath military helicopters circling overhead, once you have spent sunrise tailgating in a Speedway car park with strangers who quickly become friends, and once you have watched an entire city proudly surrender itself to racing for the month of May, you finally begin to understand why Indianapolis has carried the title of the ‘Greatest Spectacle in Racing’ for more than a century.