I have long been a fan of the 24 Hours of Le Mans auto race – so much so that I stay up for all 24 hours of it (or try to) each year. But my casual following of American sports car racing ground to a halt when the American Le Mans Series was absorbed into the Grand American Road Racing Championship for the 2014 season.
Over the last several years, leadership at the NASCAR-owned International Motor Sports Association has finally realized it’s in its own best interests to work with other sports car racing organizers to develop compatible prototype racing classes. After watching the 24 Hours of Daytona for the first time this past January, the experience has rejuvenated my interest in the sport, and I’m happy to be following American sports car racing again.
The more research I’ve done on the history of American sports car racing, the more I understand why the split occurred. IMSA founder John Bishop’s vision of having the sport geared for privateer participation is more in line with the lower-cost formula Grand-Am adopted.
But I also understand – and to a greater degree sympathize – with Don Panoz’s vision of returning American sports car racing to a format that was more closely aligned with international sports car racing. Why shouldn’t American sports car racing rules line up with international regulations so that American racing teams can easily use the same equipment to compete on a world stage?
I also held a grievance against Grand-Am for years, as it was headed by one Mr. Roger Edmonson. I know some sports car enthusiasts think highly of him for being at the helm of Grand-Am during its early years, but what Edmonson did to essentially destroy the commercial base of pro motorcycle road racing in the United States was unforgivable. I was so irate at watching my favorite form of motor sport fall so hard and so fast under Edmonson’s leadership that I wouldn’t even entertain the idea of following another series that he’d led.
Not allowing the LMP1 cars from Le Mans’ top class to compete in the new “united” championship in 2014 (there was only an LMP2 class) -- and making the Grand-Am Daytona Prototype the top-class car -- did even more to convince me to now follow the new series. Why would I follow a series – even if it’s based in my home country – that doesn’t allow the best in the world to compete in its class structure for fear its proprietary class would be forced to play second fiddle?
What changed my mind on the topic was when I learned that IMSA, the FIA (which sanctions the World Endurance Championship) and the ACO (which operates the 24 Hours of Le Mans) had created a new top-level prototype class that allowed teams to compete in any of the three’s events. The new rules package essentially has two formulas for the new top-tier Hypercar Class – the Le Mans Hypercar specs that allow greater technical freedom and the adaptation of production supercars to the class – and the Le Mans Daytona Hybrid specs that feature pre-built chassis and lower costs.
I didn’t get right back into following American sports car racing after the announcement of the new class rules and structure, but the massive changes that the new class represented screamed what I wanted to hear. IMSA got to retain its lower-cost formula with its LMDh package – which doesn’t bother me one bit. That formula has gotten several new brands to top-tier prototype racing who I'd guess would balk at entering the sport under the LMH regulations.
But it was the unspoken admission by IMSA that having a rules structure that permitted its top-flight teams to compete at Le Mans and elsewhere internationally was more important than making its top class the bees' knees of the sport that got me excited about American sports car racing again. In other words, seeing IMSA acknowledge the importance of being aligned with Le Mans competition structure – and that it was so important that it needed to completely rewrite its top-class rulebook to allow its teams to compete at Le Mans – was the admission I’d been waiting for.
I doubted IMSA would ever play ball with Le Mans on rules making. But I credit IMSA leadership for having the courage to admit the series was much better off following a path more closely aligned with international sports car racing standards. That admission, though probably difficult for people at IMSA’s headquarters, has ushered in a new, exciting era of broad OEM participation in prototype racing – one that I hope will also help with growing the popularity of the sport by better connecting the sports cars so many admire with what those machines are actually capable of in real-life competition.
Watching the 24 Hours of Daytona last month was my first step back into following the sport, and the event indeed stoked my interest. It differed significantly from watching Le Mans, as the smaller track with high-banked turns made for much shorter laps compared to the enormous Circuit de la Sathe’s layout, but the excitement and challenge of multi-class endurance racing and racing at night (which lasts a lot longer in the northern hemisphere winter months) made for a delightful race-watching experience. The GTP battle for the victory going down to the last lap after 24 grueling hours was the highlight of watching it, as well as seeing the variety of models competing in the GT classes.
Admittedly, I didn’t try to stay up for the entire 24-hour event, but I’m going to plan to for 2026. From the highlights I watched, I stayed up late enough to see all the major moves and incidents. But there’s still something about watching how the story of an endurance race unfolds as it happens that’s both unique and especially satisfying.
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