Last Friday, Mario Andretti was in New York City doing promotion for the Bullrun, one of those cross-country rich people rallies, where driving a Porsche GT2 is slumming it. Andretti endorses Magnaflow exhausts, which is sponsoring the Bullrun. And so he was in town to drive the kick-off leg of the rally, splitting duties between a Panoz Esperante and an Audi RS4. He spent most of the day at ESPN, doing segments on Cold Pizza and ESPN News. The rest of the day was reserved for a press junket at the Gansevoort Hotel.

Me? I don't like junkets. It's a cattle call for journalists. Put yourself in Andretti's shoes. He's doing one interview after another after another. The tendency is to answer questions in clichés. More importantly, it's difficult to get deep thoughtful answers in this kind of setting. And the interview inevitably becomes a fluff promo piece. My slot was the end of the day, actually his second to last interview, probably about the time he's thinking about dinner or a drink.

One more thing. As a rule, racecar drivers don't make the greatest interviews. I've been reading F1 Racing for years and every driver interview is like déjà vu. There are several reasons for this—they have too much on the line; it's tough expressing their skill into words—but the biggest reason, I think, is this: Racecar drivers just don't think about the sport all that much.

Sure, they think about driving and strategy and fitness. But what I'm talking about is the kind of thinking that fans do. For instance, drivers don't debate about who's greater than who or who's a better fit at McLaren next year, Lewis Hamilton or Gary Paffet. They don't argue about conspiracies. They don't log onto forums to talk about the future of alternative fuels in motorsports or lobby for Felipe Massa's head. Fans do these things. And since drivers don't think about what fans rabidly care about, they're unable to parse their thoughts into useful explanations. Hence, the clichés.

So those were my feelings going into the Andretti junket: Cattle call, cliché answers, fluff piece. There was one plus that outweighed all of that negative: It was Mario-freaking-Andretti.

I had met Andretti once before. It was at a party in Los Angeles celebrating the launch of his wine label, Andretti Winery. I had tried too hard to impress him, asking something about his days in the late-Can-Am series. He mumbled something back, took a photo and scampered to the farthest corner of the room. In other words, I needed redemption. So that's how I found myself in room 801 of the Gansevoort, sitting side by side with one of the greatest racecar drivers in history.

(By the way, his grandson Marco had just finished his practice session at the Milwaukee Mile, a short oval. As the interview started, Andretti got a quick call from the team with the news. This was EXACTLY the kind of stuff I wanted to know about. And in the end, Andretti was very generous with his time, came through in the clutch with several of his answers, and it turned out to be a good interview, after all. Here you go...)

*****

rc: How much time do you spend with the racing program?

ma: Obviously with Marco in the cockpit now, I'm a lot more interested in following racing or being closer to it. We just got word from Milwaukee—he's second quick today. That's meaningful because here's a track, even an oval, where the driver makes a difference. Some of these flat, flat courses [by "flat" he means "flat-out"], [driving skill] means nothing. The Penske cars are quicker because the cars have just been quicker. But where the driver has some input—here Marco surfaces again, like at Watkins Glen. The Marco situation has sparked a lot more interest in me into being closer. I try to stay informed about all of the disciplines of our sport, such as, of course, Formula 1. Primarily it's open wheel, but I enjoy NASCAR as well, at least the last five minutes. There again, I just need to stay informed because this is ultimately my business anyway. Do I go to races just to be a spectator, just hanging about? No. The only time I go to races, I have a sense of purpose.

rc: Whenever I watch a race, I feel like I'm only seeing a small part of what's actually going on, mostly because I haven't raced or been on a team. So my awareness isn't as great as yours. I'm sure you see a different race than the average fan. What do you look at when you're watching a race?

ma: In a race, specifically, for me to maintain interest, I have to have one of my own in there. There are a lot of drivers that I respect and enjoy, but there's no replacement to having your own blood out there. Since that's what we've had in our lives—that's the standard. All of my focus is on [Michael or Marco]. I'll give you an example. I was invited to be a commentator by CBS, and I did one race. It was in Nazareth, [Pennsylvania,] my hometown. Once Michael dropped out of the race, I could've cared less what was going on—and I was supposed to commentate on the rest of the race. I just lost interest. I'm like, "I'm outta here." And I realized that I just don't belong up there. I don't have the interest unless I have one of my own running. It really brought home what I'm trying to say. Even when [Michael] was out there running, all I cared about was if he'd win.

rc: Do you ever put yourself in their shoes? Do you think Oh, I would have done that differently or He should've done that?

ma: It's just like watching someone play cards, watching over the shoulder. You always think you might have been able to do something differently, maybe something better, at times. And then there are times when you say, "Attaboy! Attaboy! Attaboy!" That's the other side of it. Many times, just watching Marco—a young guy—I mean it's like, "Wow!" It's what you would've done. That's the satisfaction of watching someone really doing his job right. Fortunately, I've had—with Michael as a driver and Marco—I've had the opportunity to really get that feeling. They know how to drive. When they're on, they're really fun to watch.

rc: This is like déjà vu for you, right? Are these the same feelings watching Marco as it was watching Michael?

ma: Exactly. It's almost a carbon copy in many many ways. It really is. That's why Michael wanted to experience being on the track with Marco. That's why he came out of retirement at Indy because he saw what we got out of it as father and son when we raced together. And for him to be young enough to still experience that with his own son, he thought that it was worth coming back. I think Michael was really satisfied with what he did in May, by coming back and sharing what he could with his son. And they damn near went one-two. It was two-three, but that's not bad.

ma: It could've been a lot worse. To be honest with you, I don't think they had the speed to really be up there in the top five. There was a lot of race strategy and they ran hard all day, but the cars themselves, didn't really have the speed that I felt could even hope for a strong top five. Yet they were mixing it up. Marco, especially, all day in the top three, four, five. And then at the end there they almost got it done.

rc: People sometimes talk about how certain drivers might be good at racing but not nearly as good at setting up a car. What's the difference? What qualities make a good racing driver versus a good setup driver?

ma: A lot of people ask me, "Where's your contribution?" My answer is: I'm not a teacher. I don't think you can really teach anyone how to go quick. But the things you can teach is to pay attention, to realize how important it is to understand what's happening with the car. The more you can understand, the more you can help your engineer help you… The closer you can identify the problem, the more suggestions you can make to the engineer, and then the easier you'll get to a solution. You can only acquire this from experience. When do you acquire all of this? Testing. Testing, testing, testing. That's when you understand things in a different way, with a lot less pressure. You have some luxury of time. And always think of the time when you really need to react. When we're in trouble, we need to react. What the hell [does that mean]? OK, I've experienced this and we did that. That's how you overcome some of the setbacks—and setbacks are thrown at you every day you're out there. It's never a bed of roses.

rc: Was there a point when you got better at that?

ma: Again, experience, experience. And the more miles you put under your belt, the more you put in the bank. I'll give you a quick example, watching Marco progress through the month of May. The month of May is probably the only event we know throughout the year that gives you the luxury of time. And you still run short because of weather and this and that. However, you've got more time than anywhere else and any other event. You've got days to prepare for qualifying and then the race. And when you watch a rookie—and I've been there and Michael's been there—but then you watch this fresh driver, you almost see yourself doing it over again. You want to see how he is going to develop because you don't know. And I watched Marco—definitely a rookie when he arrived there—every day he learned something. Every day he was putting something away. I saw such specific progress. He didn't waste a second of time.

rc: What moments from your own career do you replay in your mind?

ma: The only thing that ever replays in your mind is the mistakes that you make.

rc: Really?

ma: Of course. This is also the area where if I could contribute, maybe help a young driver avoid some of the mistakes I've made by being overzealous, almost feeling like you're underproducing—you should produce beyond what you're capable of. That's when you make your mistakes. You try to tell them, just please yourself. Try to stay within your own limit and things will ultimately work out.

rc: So you never think about your great drives? Cause if I'm walking down the street and a girl smiles at me, I'll replay that moment over and over again. I don't know what it would be like if I ever won something like an F1 race.

ma: Yeah, of course. Now and again, when there's reason to, when people like yourself ask me, your mind starts going. I always like to dwell on the positive and the things that please me more than anything else in my career. If I can go back and reminisce, it's the good victories that I had, the times where I thought I played it fairly smart and was the only one who noticed it… Just the other day there was a Swede journalist who was doing some stuff on [late-Formula 1 driver] Ronnie Peterson and we were going through some of those days and I picked one example in particular, which was Zandvoort [in 1978]. I won that grand prix, and Ronnie finished second. I fought so hard to stay in the lead there because the underpods of my car were coming apart. Because I lost the insulation for the exhaust, the exhaust system was burning. It was fiberglass at the time. And I was losing downforce on my right pod. In the corner coming out the straightaway was flat. It was a flat right-hander over a rise—it was just flat. And I mean, you back off of there and he's got a run on you. And I tried so hard and kept him behind the whole time. That was satisfaction plus because I knew he was in good shape. I wasn't. Those are the moments that I look back on. I fought hard, and it paid off. I was really on the edge. That's the biggest satisfaction because nobody can appreciate what you're going through. You're the only one who really knows. Nobody knows how much on the edge of disaster you are more than yourself. Nobody can tell.

rc: One last thing. I always like talking about the good ol' days. How has racing changed from that point to now? Is there a different sort of enjoyment now? What's missing now that made those days so great?

ma: The only thing that I think was greater then than now was the camaraderie that you had among not just the drivers but also the teams. There was more camaraderie among the teams. Today, they're more distant. They're more disconnected. For some reason—I don't know if it's psychological—it seems like they're almost not enjoying their jobs as much as they should. I don't think there's enough kibitzing among the drivers in Formula 1 to really make it fun. Because you can have fun as an individual but also be very serious. And that's got some value to it. I don't see that at the moment. But then, it's always about personality, and maybe the personalities that need to be there are missing at the moment. I know that some of my toughest adversaries were some of my best buddies. We would enjoy ourselves. And I thought that was a plus.

Fumes appears the first and third Tuesday of every month. Richard Chang can be emailed at rich@urbanracer.com.