President Trump cleared the red tape for the first motorsports event around the National Mall after Transportation Secretary Sean Duffy paved the way for an executive order, and IndyCar is said to be paying more than $35 million to hold the race. The Freedom 250 Grand Prix now sits on streets built around one of the country’s most symbolic public spaces, while ordinary people are left watching a high-priced spectacle stitched together by executive power, congressional gridlock, and corporate money.
Jeff Gordon won the International Race of Champions’ first official event in 20 years on the 1.7-mile street course, giving the Freedom 250 weekend in Washington, D.C., its first winner before Sunday’s IndyCar race. He did a celebratory burnout in front of the grandstands as fans roared and others in an expected Saturday crowd of approximately 70,000 stacked themselves three- and four-deep along the fence. The scene was loud, polished, and tightly managed. The machinery of motorsport got its showcase. The public got a fenced-off view.
Who Gets the Track
IndyCar owner Roger Penske had Penske Corp. president Bud Denker attempt to get Congressional approval to stage a race on the National Mall and surrounding areas for America’s 250th birthday, but it fell through in a gridlocked Congress. That route through the legislature failed. So the event moved through the executive branch instead, with Sean Duffy and President Trump clearing the way. The result was not public consent in any meaningful sense, but a green light from above.
The race is the first motorsports event around the National Mall. That fact matters. The Mall is not some empty lot waiting for private use. It’s a public space, and now it’s been opened to a $35 million motorsports deal. The people who live, work, and move through Washington don’t get to decide that on their own terms. The decision came from the top, and the costs of that decision land below.
The People Below the Fence
An expected Saturday crowd of approximately 70,000 packed the course, three- and four-deep along the fence. They came to watch a race built through institutional permission, not community control. Gordon, now 55, drove a silver No. 24 owned by Rick Hendrick from the back in both 10-lap races to sweep the day. Kurt Busch, who finished second overall, called it “a monumental privilege to race on these streets.” That privilege belongs to the people with access, the money, and the machinery. Everyone else gets to stand behind barriers and pay attention.
Gordon said, “This is super special. It’s a real honor to be a part of this event. All of us are super appreciative to be here and see what this is like this weekend.” He later said, “This is such a blast to be on the track with this group of drivers. It’s going to be hard to wipe this smile off my face for a very long time.” Those are the words of a man inside the event, not the people outside it. The event itself was made possible by institutions that can bend public space to private spectacle.
What They Call Access
The IROC series, which had pitted drivers from various racing disciplines against one another in identically prepared cars, lost funding and ended its run in 2006. NASCAR Hall of Fame crew chief Ray Evernham resurrected the series this year with cars from that era. Evernham told drivers in their pre-race meeting to take it easy at the start because the original IROC cars from the early 2000s are high-dollar collector cars that essentially serve as museum pieces, even though they were prepared with updated parts to race again.
That detail says plenty. Even the machines are treated as collector property, museum objects dragged back into motion for a weekend of controlled danger and branded nostalgia. The series served as a support race for the Freedom 250 Grand Prix this weekend, with the IndyCar event set for Sunday afternoon. The whole arrangement depends on money, permission, and the careful management of risk for people who can afford to turn public streets into a private arena.
Busch said, “The dog has still got some bite in him.” He also said, “I felt like I was racing in an M&M’s bowl of candy with all the colors and buildings.” The line sounds playful. The structure underneath it is not. A race on the National Mall came together only after Congress stalled, the executive branch stepped in, and a corporate-backed series paid more than $35 million to occupy public ground.