IndyCar drivers from South Florida juggling distractions

HOMESTEAD, Fla. — The most important member of Tony Kanaan's crew this week won't be wearing a fire suit at Homestead-Miami Speedway, working on his car or changing any tires.

She'll be holding his cell phone.

Meet Kika Garcia-Concheso, Kanaan's assistant, who has two very different, yet strangely connected, roles leading to Saturday's IRL season-finale. She works hard to arrange 150 tickets for Kanaan's family and friends, then works even harder to make sure that group doesn't take up an inordinate amount of the driver's time as the race draws near.

"It's very busy for us," Garcia-Concheso said.

Maybe too busy, at times.

For whatever reason, whether it's the higher-than-usual amount of interaction with sponsors and well-wishers, a never-ending stream of calls from people looking for tickets or appearances, maybe even some combination thereof, South Florida drivers routinely fall short when trying to win at their home track.

To them, the comforts of home apparently aren't all that comfortable.

"It affects my body for sure because I'm always doing twice as much," Kanaan said. "I'm tired, I'm drained more than usual. But I don't think it affects me in the race car. I'm not as rested as when I'm in Japan, because I have nothing to do there. You just have to know that your time is going to be a lot less when you're racing here."

There's certain obvious advantages of having a race at Homestead for the drivers who live in and around the greater Miami area, like Kanaan, Helio Castroneves, Ryan Hunter-Reay, Milka Duno and Mario Moraes.

But history shows they'll all have a tough time winning on Saturday.

"I can hope," Castroneves said. "I'd love to be able to do it. We're working for it. We've been second many times, third many times. There's only one number missing for us here, and that's No. 1."

South Florida is a haven for IndyCar drivers for a slew of reasons.

There's no state income tax and the weather is typically outstanding, but those are hardly the only advantages. There are many daily flights to South America and Europe, homelands for many IRL racers. Offseason testing is easily accessible at places like Homestead, Sebring and Daytona, and language barriers for foreign-born drivers don't seem as daunting in the melting pot that is South Florida.

Emerson Fittipaldi was one of the first foreign-born drivers to make a home in Miami, and by Garcia-Concheso's count, at least 30 others have followed in the last 20 years.

"They all love it here," she said.

Only winning would make it better.

Some drivers treat it like a regular race, meaning they pretend to be on the road.

Kanaan tells sponsors and others that when he's making an appearance, he really doesn't have more than 10 minutes to stick around. Moraes is having 86 friends and family fly from his native Brazil for the race, although he isn't sure when — or if — he'll see all of them. Hunter-Reay, who lives about an hour or so north of the track in Boca Raton, moves out of his house entirely.

"You get so used to whole your career being on the road, it throws you out of your whole routine being at home," Hunter-Reay said. "So I sleep at the hotel, to make it feel like I'm somewhere else."

Over time, his friends have figured out that being at home doesn't mean he's got any free time this week.

"They didn't at the beginning," Hunter-Reay said. "They get it now. The racetrack is our office, and they understand that."

It's not just friends and family to worry about. Garcia-Concheso says she gets requests from dozens of other people for appearances, credentials, suite passes and the like, just because she's now recognized as someone who can deliver.

By week's end, she's frazzled.

"My pool guy, the guy who kills the roaches, everybody," she said. "They just want tickets. Like everyone else. So we do what we can."