Penske man: "Hello, Air France? I'd like to, uh, charter a Concorde from Paris to Indianapolis. Could you give me an idea of your rates?"
"First class or no frills?" (Dryly)
"I don't think it really matters. We're interested in speed rather than comfort. Besides it would be only for one passenger."
"Prices start at 165."
"I beg your pardon?"
"That's what I thought you said. Listen, could we make a deal? I mean, Roger Penske—you've heard of him, everyone has heard of Roger Penske—is more than willing to maybe paint the name of your corporation on the car or something, and maybe even get a suite on Turn Two for some of your executives, and...oh, never mind."
So, it was more or less left at that; Andretti went on to win the Belgian Grand Prix on Sunday and regain the lead for the world driving championship while some of his Indy fans hoped to see their man walk nonchalantly down pit row, climb into the Penske and hit 205 mph or something. The impossible is regularly expected of men like Andretti and Penske. Only because they seem to deliver it so often.