Spain’s arrival on next year’s IndyCar schedule has opened a much bigger conversation: where else could the series race in Europe?
There is no shortage of appealing answers. Zandvoort offers a Dutch connection through Rinus VeeKay. Germany presents several possibilities, including the tantalizing idea of returning to an oval. Britain has circuits whose atmosphere could suit IndyCar, while Scandinavia offers an opportunity to build around drivers who already give the region a stake in the series. But a compelling destination and a workable race are different things. Any expansion would need to balance local interest, circuit suitability, financial support, and what makes IndyCar worth watching in the first place.
Separately, this weekend also brings a moment to remember Greg Moore, 27 years after his death in the California 500. He would have been 51 this year. His five CART victories tell only part of the story of a driver whose promise, personality, and connection with fans still resonate.
Where Should IndyCar Look After Spain?
Zandvoort makes an appealing starting point for the European discussion.
The Dutch connection is straightforward: VeeKay gives a potential event a home driver to promote. For a series trying to establish an audience beyond its existing followers, that is a useful foundation. A race becomes easier to introduce when spectators have someone local to follow. Assen also belongs in that conversation. Its 2007 Champ Car event provides a historical reference for American open-wheel racing in the Netherlands, although it would be a mistake to assume the same circumstances—or the same audience—could simply be recreated. A Dutch IndyCar event would need to build its own following. Interest in Formula 1 does not automatically translate into ticket sales for another championship, and VeeKay’s presence would be an asset rather than a complete promotional strategy.
The sporting question matters, too. Zandvoort is an enticing name, but the case for a race should rest on how IndyCar would perform there and what kind of event could be built around it. Enthusiasm for seeing different cars on a familiar circuit is a starting point, not the whole argument.
Britain Has the Atmosphere. Which Circuit Has the Best Case?
Brands Hatch is one of the most evocative suggestions.
Its appeal goes beyond the layout. The close connection between spectators, cars, and the circuit is the kind of experience that could fit IndyCar well. A European event should preserve the accessibility and atmosphere that make the series attractive, and Brands offers an appealing vision of what that could look like. There is also a clear preference to consider between the shorter Indy circuit and the full layout. The full circuit is the more intriguing prospect for those imagining an IndyCar race there, but an exciting layout on paper does not establish its suitability. Safety, facilities, and the requirements of these cars would need to lead that discussion. Familiarity through other championships—or enthusiasm built through racing simulators—cannot answer those questions.
Donington deserves consideration for similar reasons. It offers the possibility of developing a British event with its own identity, with IndyCar as a central attraction. That could be more valuable than simply selecting the most recognizable venue. Silverstone belongs on the list of possibilities as well. The broader question is what a British round would be trying to achieve: maximum recognition, a particular spectator experience, or a venue willing to make IndyCar a defining part of its calendar.
Those are different priorities, and they may produce different answers.
Germany and the Appeal of a European Oval
Germany presents perhaps the widest range of ideas, with Hockenheim, the Nürburgring, the Lausitzring, and the Sachsenring all entering the discussion.
The Lausitzring is especially interesting because it raises a question that road-course proposals cannot: could European expansion showcase IndyCar’s oval identity? That would give the series a distinct proposition. Adding another road course could produce an excellent event, but an oval would introduce European spectators to a different part of the championship’s challenge. The obstacle is feasibility. The supplied discussion raises concerns about the Lausitzring’s surface and the work a return could require. Without an established assessment of its condition, those concerns cannot be turned into a firm renovation requirement or cost estimate. Equally, the existence of an oval does not mean it is ready to host IndyCar. The idea deserves attention because of what it could offer, but nostalgia cannot establish whether it is practical.
Germany’s road-course options may present a different route. Their case would still depend on a promoter, an audience, and a suitable venue coming together. A country’s appeal alone is not enough to sustain a race.
Scandinavia Offers a Driver Connection—and a Venue Question
Sweden and Denmark offer another appealing direction.
Marcus Ericsson and Felix Rosenqvist provide recognizable Swedish connections around which an event could be promoted. More broadly, building interest around the series’ Scandinavian drivers could give IndyCar a way to reach spectators through existing national connections. The harder question is where to race. Anderstorp and Mantorp Park have been suggested, while a Stockholm street race offers a more ambitious possibility. None should be treated as an established candidate on the strength of that appeal alone. Circuit suitability would need to be assessed, and a street event would require a much larger organizational commitment than drawing a route on a map.
Still, Scandinavia deserves a place in the discussion. The strongest opportunity may not necessarily be the most famous circuit. It could be a location where IndyCar has the ingredients to become a major local event.
The Wishlist Needs a Practical Filter
Spa, France’s Le Mans circuit, Hungary, and Poland widen the possibilities further.
Spa has obvious appeal as a destination for an IndyCar race. The Hungaroring is another intriguing sporting proposition. Poland’s Tor Poznań raises a different set of questions about facilities and suitability. But a wishlist is not a shortlist. For every suggestion, the same questions apply: can the venue accommodate the series, can an organizer support the event, and is there an audience willing to attend? There is also no need to assume that a second European race must be IndyCar’s next international priority. Australia belongs in the broader discussion, too. The right opportunity elsewhere could be more valuable than expanding in Europe simply because Spain creates an opening.
The strongest European proposal would offer more than a recognizable name. It would give spectators a reason to embrace IndyCar itself—its drivers, its racing, and its atmosphere—and a reason to return.
Remembering Greg Moore
The anniversary of Greg Moore’s death deserves its own space, beyond the debate about future destinations.
Born on April 22, 1975, Moore began racing at 10 and built a career through Indy Lights and CART. Between 1996 and 1999, he won five CART races, taking his first victory at Milwaukee in 1997 and his final win at the 1999 season opener at Miami-Homestead. His 1998 Michigan 500 victory remains another important part of that record. These are achievements worth remembering in their own right, rather than treating his career solely as a prelude to what might have followed. Moore had signed to race for Penske when he was killed at Fontana in the final race of the 1999 season. He was 24.
That impending move explains why his story still prompts so many questions. What could he have achieved with Penske? How would he have measured up against Gil de Ferran? Would championships or Indianapolis victories have followed? There is no way to answer those questions. His talent and the opportunity ahead made the possibilities compelling, but potential is not a record we can complete retrospectively. Nor does appreciating Moore require diminishing Hélio Castroneves, who subsequently received the Penske opportunity. Their careers cannot be compared against an imagined version of events in which every possibility becomes a victory.
What Moore had already accomplished was enough to establish why his future mattered.
More Than the Career He Might Have Had
One of the most poignant facts about Moore’s career is that he never competed in the Indianapolis 500.
Against the backdrop of the American open-wheel split, that absence remains a reminder of opportunities the sport never delivered. A driver capable of winning major oval races never had the chance to build a record in its most famous event. But reducing Moore’s legacy to hypothetical Indianapolis victories would overlook the connection he had already made. For Maple Ridge, he was a hometown figure to look up to. For Canadian racing followers, he belonged to a generation that made the sport feel close and personal. For young spectators, his death could change the experience of following a favorite driver.
The enduring attachment to his red gloves expresses that connection more clearly than any projection of future results. It is a way of remembering the driver and the person, not merely the seat he was about to occupy.
A Safety Discussion That Should Begin Before Impact
Remembering Fontana also invites difficult discussion about safety. That discussion is most useful when it avoids graphic retellings and certainty that the available material cannot support.
Claims that no modern protection could have changed the outcome are too absolute. So are assurances that a particular change would have guaranteed his survival. The more useful distinction is between protecting a driver during an impact and preventing an accident from developing into that impact. Circuit surfaces, transitions, barriers, and the path a car takes after leaving the racing line belong in the same conversation as cockpit protection. Safety cannot be assessed only from the final moment of a crash.
The supplied accounts also contain conflicting claims about Moore’s injured hand, his medical clearance, and the circumstances that contributed to the accident. Those claims do not provide a sound basis for assigning a definitive cause. The anniversary should leave room for reflection without turning uncertainty into fact—or allowing the crash to overshadow the life and career being remembered. Twenty-seven years later, Moore’s five victories, his promise, and the affection he inspired still matter. He would have been 51 this year.
Red Gloves Rule.