The Autographs By: Jim Gandolf

The Autographs 

Poem

By: Jim Gandolf 

©️08122026

Back in the seventies, bright and unspooled,

Where simple delights and sweet summer days ruled,

The Indianapolis Indians stepped to the plate!

Just AAA ball, but to me, they were great.

No big-league dimensions could lessen their yield;

They were caped superheroes out there on the field.

And then came the speedway, the hum and the roar,

Where I sat with a pencil to keep up the score.

A proud little stat-getter, watching each lap,

With a chart on my knee and a tilt to my cap.

Through practice and qualifying, tracking the pace,

I’d hunt for the heroes who ran in the race.

I chased down the drivers for ink on a page,

And movie stars visiting trackside the stage.

I collected their names with a wide-eyed delight,

Capturing magic and holding it tight.

Though time took the paper and signatures pressed,

The heart of those moments stays locked in my chest.

Then May seventy-eight brought the dream into view:

My very first Race Day beneath skies of blue!

The thunder of engines, the rumble, the space.

A core memory burned that no time can erase.

The autographs vanished as years slipped away,

But nothing can dim the sweet glory of May.

Jim Gandolf 

Note: I never looked at getting an autograph as a business. It was to document how much fun a child could have that grew up next to the, “Greatest Spectacle in Racing.” The Indianapolis Motor Speedway, The Indianapolis 500 Mile Race! Central Indiana affect!