He Makes a Name in Family Business

Everybody knows who Mario Andretti is, right? You all know Jose Canseco. Curtis Strange?

But how about Aldo Andretti? Ozzie Canseco? Alan Strange? Got a clue?

The best they can hope for from history is a “Say, are you related to . . . ?”

They are related, all right. They are twins.

Why is one sibling able to drive a race car, a baseball, a golf ball fast or far while his identical (or fraternal) twin isn’t? It’s a question that has confounded geneticists for generations. Why is Jose Canseco hitting 37 home runs, driving in 101 and appearing in his third World Series in a row while his identical twin is hitting .225 in Huntsville, Ala.? Why is Curtis Strange winning back-to-back U.S. Opens while his twin cannot make the cut?

And why was Aldo Andretti selling tires in Indianapolis when his brother was winning the 500--and almost everything else on a racetrack? What kind of joke was fate playing here?

In the case of the others the answer seems blurred, but in the case of the Andretti twins the answer seemed simple enough: Mario won. Aldo crashed.

The pattern was set early. The brothers were all of 19 years old, refugees from a displaced-persons camp in Italy, when they entered a 100-lap modified car race in Hatfield, Pa. Aldo was in, of all things, a Hudson Hornet that hit a guard rail in the dim light of the track and spun end-over-end along the back straight, spewing doors, trunks and parts--and Aldo--as it went.

He had to be cut out of the car. He was in a coma two weeks. He had to learn to talk and walk all over again. His eyesight was impaired.

He was stubborn. He tried to continue racing. But an accident in a sprint car race in Des Moines broke an axle on the car and several bones in the face and body of Aldo. He became the other Andretti, the forgotten Andretti. His brother went on to become one of his sport’s most famous chauffeurs. Aldo drove cars with radios and cigarette lighters and back seats and glove compartments and backup lights.

When Mario sits in a race car these days, it’s commonplace to see one or more of his sons ranged alongside him on the starting grid.

But be advised, John Andretti is not one of them. John Andretti, it so happens, is the son of the ill-fated Aldo.

It is a heartwarming story right out of Disney. An Andretti in a race car is like John Wayne on a horse. It has become an American tradition.

But John Andretti, like his father before him, seemed destined to drive in the shadow of other Andrettis, in his case not only his uncle Mario but his cousin Michael, Mario’s oldest son.

Then, last month, in 1991’s first (of 17) races in the CART PPG Cup Indy series, at Queensland, Australia, it was no surprise when an Andretti won. The surprise was that it wasn’t Mario or his son Michael. It wasn’t even his other son, Jeff, although all were in it. It was Aldo’s son, John. The other Andretti. Aldo’s side of the family finally hit Victory Lane.

Aldo’s revenge? Making up for the frustrations of the father with the success of the son?

It’s not an uncommon American story. But John Andretti laughs at the notion. John Andretti wins for John Andretti. He’s not getting even with a racetrack for what it did to his father. Papa was not even the driving force in his turning to racing. “It was my mother who encouraged me to go racing,” John acknowledges. “My father just told me to get a good car--but get a good education, too, because lots of things can happen in a race car, not all of them good.”

John does dispute the notion his father crashed his way out of the sport and into business. “All those stories about his having a plate in his head or his back and being unable to sit in a race car are untrue. He could have kept driving. He just wanted to get into business, where he’s done very well.”

John followed Dad’s advice, graduating from college (Moravian) with a degree in business administration. But like most Andrettis, he could no more pass a race car than an alcoholic could pass a bar.

He came up the usual way--midgets, sprint cars, sports cars. He drove on dirt tracks, in endurance races. He took a job taking care of a plumber’s truck fleet to keep himself near the smell of oil and rubber.

He even had the obligatory accident at Pocono. The usual thing, the car turned right, John turned left. Broke his foot and knee.

So, he is a full-blooded Andretti. Victory, accident, apprenticeship. He goes into this week’s Toyota Grand Prix of Long Beach the way Andrettis usually go into races--as the favorites. An Andretti has won this 16-year-old street race through Long Beach five times (Mario four times, Michael one).

His 20 points lead the PPG Indy series, his car has shown it can win with these, and whether he admits it or not, he has a score to settle with motor racing. It will be no upset for an Andretti to win here. The upset could be which Andretti. The one from the other side of the famous family.