IndyCar spent much of this week looking toward the future.
The IR28 is about to receive another major test at Indianapolis. Chip Ganassi Racing is building its own media operation. Fans are once again debating whether the series should return to Circuit of the Americas. At the same time, one of its teams appears to be dealing with a public ownership dispute that could shape its competitiveness for years. Taken separately, these stories cover four very different parts of the sport. Together, they reveal a series trying to modernize its cars, improve its storytelling, strengthen its teams and decide where it actually belongs.
The problem is that IndyCar’s future is not only dependent on building a better race car. It also requires stable organizations, recognizable stars, sustainable events and a media strategy that reaches beyond the fans who already care.
The IR28 Gets Its Next Two Alexes
Álex Palou and Alexander Rossi are set to test the IR28 at Indianapolis this weekend, giving IndyCar another opportunity to validate the car scheduled to debut in 2028.
The selection immediately created the obvious joke: IndyCar currently seems determined to test the car only with drivers named Alex. There is, however, a more practical explanation. The manufacturers reportedly selected the drivers, with an emphasis on those who have confirmed contracts with the same teams for next season. Rossi is also regarded as a driver whose feedback Chevrolet values, while Palou provides the perspective of the series’ benchmark performer. In other words, IndyCar is not simply putting two recognizable names in the car. It is collecting feedback from drivers whose teams and manufacturers have reason to remain invested in the project beyond a single demonstration run. Rossi may also be one of the most useful possible testers precisely because he does not arrive eager to praise everything he sees.
He said he approached the new car with low expectations and was “floored” after seeing it in person, describing it as looking like a monster. Rossi also acknowledged the obvious, saying he knows he is regarded as a pessimist.
That reputation makes the enthusiasm more valuable. A glowing review from a driver who habitually celebrates every new development can be dismissed as promotional messaging. A glowing review from Rossi carries a different kind of credibility because it sounds as though the car had to overcome his skepticism first. It is also difficult to imagine a more contrasting pairing.
Palou has come to represent almost unstoppable success, while Rossi has become associated with a level of misfortune that makes every new mechanical system feel like a potential stress test. If the IR28 can survive a weekend with Rossi without suffering an immediate hybrid failure, electrical issue or spontaneous fire, fans may be prepared to regard that as a positive reliability milestone. The test is also being opened to spectators at the Turn 2 mounds, giving the public a chance to see the car in action rather than experiencing its development exclusively through controlled images and official statements. That matters.
The IR28 is one of the most important projects IndyCar has undertaken in years, and fans are already hungry for proof that the next car will look and feel substantially different. Allowing them to witness testing helps turn the car from an abstract promise into something tangible. The early reaction from Rossi suggests IndyCar may have something visually compelling. Now the series must prove that the car also delivers the performance, reliability and racing quality needed to justify the long wait.
And yes, Palou receiving additional track time feels almost unfair. The driver who seemingly needs the least help is once again being given another opportunity to learn something before everyone else.
Chip Ganassi Racing Decides to Tell Its Own Stories
While Palou prepares to help develop IndyCar’s future car, his team is making another forward-looking investment.
Chip Ganassi Racing has hired former Associated Press reporter Jenna Fryer to lead a new media group. The appointment immediately produced a polarized response because Fryer has been one of the most visible and divisive reporters around American motorsports. Some fans have spent years arguing that she was too close to Ganassi. Others have accused her of treating him unfairly. The fact that both criticisms have existed simultaneously says more about the emotional nature of the audience than it does about a coherent perception of her reporting. Her hiring will inevitably be presented by some as confirmation that she was always carrying water for Ganassi. Others will see it as evidence that she did, in fact, have deep relationships and sources inside the paddock, even when parts of the fanbase insisted otherwise.
What cannot reasonably be disputed is her experience. Fryer spent three decades with the Associated Press, worked in one of the most demanding reporting environments in sports media and relocated to Charlotte to be closer to the center of American racing. A reporter with that background understands how stories are framed, how newsrooms operate, what information journalists need and how organizations can shape coverage without appearing to dictate it. That skill set is exactly why reporters so often move into communications, public relations and media roles inside the industries they once covered.
They already know the people. They understand the rhythms of coverage. They know what can safely be said, what should remain private and how to present a story in a way that gives the organization the best possible chance of controlling the conversation. Ganassi’s decision is therefore less strange than it first appears. The more important question is what the team intends to do with its new media group.
Race teams have increasingly become their own publishers. They produce social content, documentaries, interviews, behind-the-scenes videos and feature stories that once would have depended on traditional media coverage. This gives teams a direct relationship with fans and allows them to define their drivers before someone else does it for them. For IndyCar, that is particularly important because the series has spent years struggling to transform elite drivers into widely recognizable stars. Scott Dixon is the clearest example of the missed opportunity.
Dixon has achieved extraordinary success, yet there has long been a sense that he could walk through many public spaces without being recognized. One fan even recalled seeing him twice in a single year and feeling as though Dixon was startled by the realization that somebody knew who he was. That is charming on a personal level. It is alarming from a marketing perspective. IndyCar spent too long assuming that stars would be created because sponsors placed drivers in advertisements. But fame does not emerge automatically from exposure. Fans need to repeatedly see a driver’s face, hear their voice, understand their personality and be given reasons to care about them outside a race result.
Even small details matter. It reportedly took years to convince Dixon to lift his sunglasses during on-track interviews so viewers could actually become familiar with his face. That is the kind of issue a dedicated team media operation can address. Ganassi does not need to wait for IndyCar to build a campaign around Dixon, Palou or the rest of its drivers. It can create that campaign itself.
The new group could also produce stories about broader developments within IndyCar, including events, schedule changes and the 2028 car. That raises a fair question about whether those subjects should be promoted by the series rather than an individual team. The answer is that both can cover them. IndyCar and Indianapolis Motor Speedway already have media operations focused on their respective priorities. Teams have always been responsible for deciding how aggressively they want to market themselves. The series cannot build an equally expansive storytelling operation for every organization, particularly if some owners are unwilling to make comparable investments.
Ganassi is choosing to make that investment. The danger, of course, is that team-owned media can quickly become little more than polished public relations. The content will be created to support the team, protect its image and promote its interests. Nobody should confuse it with independent journalism. But that does not make it useless.
IndyCar does not only need accountability reporting. It also needs entertaining, accessible storytelling that introduces fans to its drivers, explains its technology and gives people a reason to feel connected between race weekends. The best outcome would be a healthy distinction between the two: independent journalists continue reporting on the sport, while teams become far better at presenting their own personalities and stories.
Whether fans like Fryer or not, Ganassi has hired someone who understands both sides of that divide.
Juncos Hollinger Racing’s Future Becomes Publicly Uncomfortable
If Ganassi is presenting a picture of investment and expansion, Juncos Hollinger Racing is presenting almost the exact opposite.
Ricardo Juncos has publicly addressed rumors that Brad Hollinger wants him to sell his share of the team. Rather than calming the situation, his comments exposed the scale of the disagreement. Juncos said Hollinger probably wants him to sell, but emphasized that he remains the majority owner and has no intention of leaving. He also openly criticized Hollinger’s management philosophy and suggested that Hollinger could ultimately be the one who departs.
“There are a lot of rumors,” Juncos said. “The reality is that Brad Hollinger probably wants me to sell the team, but I’m the majority owner. For that to happen, I’d have to decide to leave. Right now, I have absolutely no intention of selling my share.”
Juncos described differences in philosophy, said he disagreed with many things he had previously allowed to happen and compared the situation to a football club waiting for a manager’s contract to expire after repeated losses. He also criticized the direction of the current team principal, saying the appointment initially appeared promising before beginning to stray from what he wanted.
“Now we have a team principal that initially seemed promising, but then started to stray a bit,” Juncos said. “I don’t agree with that aspect, but Hollinger does. I’m simply trying to achieve harmony, and if that fails, we’ll wait for the established deadlines to pass before taking action.”
For employees, sponsors and drivers, this is not the kind of language that creates confidence. A majority owner publicly questioning his co-owner, management structure and team principal makes it nearly impossible to believe that the organization is operating with a unified long-term plan. The comments are especially significant because reports have already suggested that Juncos has been less involved with the IndyCar side of the operation and more focused on Indy NXT. Marshall Pruett reported that the situation has been well known inside the paddock for at least a year and that, if the separation reaches its conclusion, Hollinger is expected to become sole owner.
Juncos’ interview presents a very different version of that future. Instead of sounding like a partner preparing to exit, he sounds determined to retain control even if doing so extends the conflict. That creates a potentially dangerous standoff.
Hollinger is widely viewed as the financial force that helped stabilize the team. If Juncos refuses to sell while Hollinger refuses to continue funding the organization under the existing structure, the value of being majority owner could become meaningless very quickly. A majority stake in a functioning IndyCar team is valuable. A majority stake in an organization without sufficient funding is simply a larger share of the problem. The frustrating part is that Juncos Hollinger Racing has shown enough performance to make the internal dysfunction feel avoidable.
Rinus VeeKay sits 10th in the championship with an average finish of 11.9. The team’s overall average finish has been cited as 15.8, placing it behind Meyer Shank Racing but still within a range that suggests it is not hopelessly uncompetitive. VeeKay’s results have restored his standing and demonstrated that the team can produce strong weekends. Callum Ilott also delivered encouraging performances during his time with the organization. The problem is not the complete absence of potential. It is the team’s tendency to damage itself.
JHR could theoretically improve by retaining VeeKay, strengthening the second car and securing a technical partnership. A closer relationship with McLaren has been discussed as one possible path, but the damage from the previous partnership still hangs over the organization. McLaren ended its commercial alliance with JHR following the controversy surrounding Agustín Canapino and the online abuse directed at Théo Pourchaire. The handling of that situation continues to define how many observers view Juncos. The criticism is not merely that some Canapino supporters behaved badly. It is that the response from those around Canapino and the team failed to contain the situation and, at times, appeared to inflame it.
Juncos is also accused of presenting different messages depending on the audience, speaking one way to American media and another way in Spanish-language interviews. The assumption may have been that those comments would remain separated by language. That is no longer realistic. Translations travel. Clips circulate. Fans compare statements. Saying one thing in Argentina and another in the United States is not a sustainable media strategy in 2026.
The latest interview reinforces the perception that Juncos feels more comfortable speaking openly in Argentine media because he expects less pushback there. But the comments have now crossed that barrier, and the result is an ownership dispute being analyzed publicly in both languages. There is also an uncomfortable irony here.
At the same time that Ganassi is hiring an experienced journalist to create a more sophisticated media operation, Juncos is demonstrating how damaging unscripted ownership messaging can be. IndyCar does not need every personality to become corporate and bland. Part of the series’ appeal is that owners, drivers and team figures occasionally say things that would never survive the approval process elsewhere. But there is a difference between authenticity and organizational self-sabotage.
A team owner publicly threatening the position of his partner and questioning his own team principal is not simply colorful personality. It can affect recruitment, technical partnerships, sponsorship confidence and the willingness of current employees to believe in the project. JHR may be capable of becoming a stronger midfield organization. It may even be capable of contending for occasional podiums or wins under the right structure.
But it cannot move forward while its owners are pulling in opposite directions.
Why a Return to COTA Remains More Dream Than Plan
The debate over Circuit of the Americas reflects another recurring IndyCar problem: fans often want the series to visit tracks that do not appear to want the series badly enough to make the economics work.
Those who attended IndyCar’s previous race at COTA remember it fondly. The circuit is modern, challenging and capable of hosting major international events. The idea of bringing IndyCar back is easy to romanticize. The financial case is much harder. The central estimate offered in the discussion is that IndyCar would need to sell approximately 80,000 tickets to break even unless a major title sponsor subsidized the event.
COTA reportedly does not want the race back without one of those conditions being met. AutoNation had been lined up as title sponsor for the planned 2020 event before the race was canceled during the pandemic. That suggests a workable model once existed, but it does not prove the same support is available now. Motorsports attendance at COTA appears to have grown. The World Endurance Championship announced attendance above 60,000 for its weekend last year, and other events have reportedly experienced noticeable increases.
That gives IndyCar supporters reason to believe a return could perform better than the original race. But COTA’s current calendar also makes IndyCar less necessary. The track already hosts Formula 1, NASCAR, MotoGP and WEC. Those events collectively reach many of the same audiences IndyCar would be trying to attract.
Formula 1 fills the premium open-wheel position. NASCAR brings the country’s largest domestic racing audience. MotoGP serves motorcycle fans. WEC offers endurance racing and large multi-class fields. For spectators with limited time and money, IndyCar becomes another racing weekend competing against events that may already satisfy their interest. The overlap is particularly difficult with Formula 1.
Fans do not need to understand the technical difference in lap times to recognize which race is marketed as the larger attraction. In an economically tight environment, somebody choosing only one event at COTA is likely to prioritize Formula 1. That does not mean IndyCar produces worse racing. Many fans care far more about competition than outright speed. But the series’ “Fastest Racing on Earth” branding becomes awkward on road courses where Formula 1 cars are visibly quicker. COTA places the two categories on the same circuit, making comparison unavoidable for the small portion of the audience that does care about lap time.
Still, speed comparison was not the real reason the event disappeared. The larger issue was attendance and financial viability. IndyCar also left Texas Motor Speedway after struggling to attract enough fans. The pattern is simple: a race can be enjoyable, produce good competition and still fail if not enough people buy tickets.
A support role may therefore be more realistic than a standalone return. Pairing IndyCar with NASCAR or WEC could reduce the burden of attracting an entirely separate audience, although both options would create scheduling, promotional and identity complications. Some fans dislike doubleheaders because they fear IndyCar will appear secondary. Others see them as one of the few realistic ways to place the series at major venues without expecting it to carry the entire financial load.
There are also contractual limitations. IndyCar is obligated to begin its season at St. Petersburg, which restricts some potential scheduling arrangements. The NASCAR weekend at COTA is also promoted through Speedway Motorsports, which rents the track, further complicating assumptions about how event revenue is distributed. Even if those problems could be solved, COTA would still need a reason to add another race. That is the imbalance at the center of the conversation.
IndyCar fans can explain why the circuit would be good for the series. It is much harder to explain why the series is essential for the circuit. COTA already has a full motorsports identity. Unless a title sponsor absorbs much of the risk, a partner event creates a viable package or IndyCar can demonstrate that it will deliver a substantially larger audience than before, the return remains unlikely.
Fans may prefer Watkins Glen. Others may want another oval. Some would happily take COTA back tomorrow. But calendar decisions cannot be made solely around which tracks look good on a wishlist.
They require promoters who believe they can make money.
One Series, Four Versions of the Same Problem
The new car, the Ganassi media group, the Juncos ownership conflict and the COTA debate may appear disconnected.
They are all ultimately about whether IndyCar can create a more sustainable version of itself. The IR28 has to be more than attractive. It must give manufacturers, teams, drivers and fans confidence in the technical direction of the series. Ganassi’s media investment has to be more than public relations. It should help create recognizable personalities and make the sport more accessible without pretending that team-owned content is independent journalism.
Juncos Hollinger Racing has to become more than a team with occasional potential. It needs stable leadership, clear ownership and a structure capable of turning strong individual performances into organizational progress. A COTA return has to be more than something fans remember enjoying. It needs a promoter, sponsor and audience large enough to justify the expense. IndyCar often behaves as though good racing should be enough.
It is not. Good racing is the foundation, but the series must also build stories around it, market the people creating it, protect the teams participating in it and place events where the business model makes sense. This week offered reasons for optimism.
Rossi’s unexpectedly enthusiastic response suggests the IR28 may be capable of winning over skeptics. Ganassi is investing in the kind of storytelling operation IndyCar teams have long needed. Fan interest in COTA shows there is still appetite for the series to think ambitiously about its schedule. It also offered a warning. A sport can build a new car and still be undermined by unstable teams. It can hire experienced media professionals and still struggle to create stars. It can visit world-class circuits and still lose money. IndyCar’s next era will not be determined by one announcement.
It will be determined by whether the series can finally connect all of these pieces.