A Capitol affair

 "FREEEE-DOMMMMM!"

-- William Wallace

(Or Mel Gibson)

(Or someone)

There. Got that out of my system.

Now I can move on to discuss IndyCar on the streets of Washington D.C., aka the Freedom 250, which a goldang AMERICAN ran away with, goldang it. I know this because the Fox broadcast team -- led by that obnoxiously cheerful Brit, Will Buxton -- kept reminding me. Like, over and over and over.

More on that later.

For now, let's just say the Freedom 250, in the historic capital of America, in celebration of America's historic 250th birthday (you couldn't wear out the word "historic" on this day), was won by an American, Kyle Kirkwood. Led 128 of the 147 laps, Kirkwood did. Won for a race team bearing the name of an American motorsport icon, Mario Andretti -- who came to America from Italy before You Know Who got his shorts in a twist about immigration, so it was OK.

Team Andretti finished 1-3-4, in fact. An American, and the most quintessentially American racing team, dominating America's IndyCar race? Someone should get an A+ for that script.

So it was a heck of a show, all-in-all. The weather, which in D.C. often gets stuck on the Dryer Vent setting in August, turned out just fine. The fans mobbed the Mall and adjutant surroundings. And the course ... well, how much better does it get than the Capitol building in the background of every lap? 

Shoot. You Know Who didn't even try to elbow Kirkwood aside on the podium -- although Himself did take a ceremonial pre-race turn around the course in the presidential limo, and got to drop the green to start the race.

There was also a bald eagle in there somewhere, and military jets (including a way-cool and spooky B-1 bomber) and other pageantry. You Know Who's grift airplane even did a flyover.

A special day, in other words. So why did Cheerful Will and Co. have to keep reminding us how special it was?

An editor of mine once spoke a universal truth to me: Don't tell me, show me. In other words, the best way to tell a story is not to tell it, but to let it tell itself.

Cheerful Will and Co. apparently never heard that one.

Because by far the most annoying part of a perhaps one-of-a-kind day (the Freedom 250 being a one-off event, at least for now) was the Fox team continually telling us how one-of-a-kind it was. How it was a celebration of America and its history and Look there's the National Archives and Look here's a shot from the WASHINGTON MONUMENT and Isn't Kyle Kirkwood's story the story of America itself?

"We told these truths to be self-evident ..." Cheerful Will actually said as Kirkwood took the white flag for his final lap.

Please. No. Just stop. 

Listen. I get that over-the-top boosterism is Cheerful Will's schtick. But this was not only over the top; it was over the top of whatever's on top. If it were any cornier, you could have added melted butter and salt and cued up a movie.

Besides, if this Truth were that Self-Evident, why did anyone in the Fox booth have to say anything?

One of the best calls of a sporting event I ever heard was from the legendary Jim McKay, and it happened at the Mexico City Olympics in 1968. In the final paces of the last event of the decathlon that year, an American named Bill Toomey churned toward the finish of the 1500 meters and the gold medal, and McKay said this:

"Here is Bill Toomey ... running in the footsteps of Jim Thorpe, Rafer Johnson and Bob Mathias ... running in the cold and the rain ... in the breathless air ... winning the decathlon!"

And then, as Toomey broke the tape, utterly spent: "This picture needs no words."

Jim McKay, you see, knew when to let the moment speak for itself.

The Freedom 250 -- a Capitol affair with its own moment -- could have used some of that.