The odd mix of inertia and razzmatazz of the Month of May at Indianapolis did not sit well with Clark initially. He found its graded rookie tests demeaning and tiresome, the press interest bullish and intrusive. But he warmed to them. Indeed his car would soon sport a bold central yellow stripe; his new American overalls were primrose with powder blue stripes along their arms; and for a brief time his new American crash helmet was silver.

The money helped: Clark was set to earn more in a single day than he might in the rest of the season. What mattered most, however, was his silencing and then winning over of the ‘Not in my Brickyard!’ disbelievers through overwhelming brilliance and understated charm. America and Clark were good for one another.

He might have won on the occasion of his Indy 500 debut – he finished second having led 28 laps in 1963 – had he been more attuned to the possible advantages to be gained under the yellow flag – and had not leader Parnelli Jones been dropping oil onto an already greasy track. The latter controversy would cause the victorious Jones to come to blows with mouthy rival Eddie Sachs the following day. Clark, in contrast, smiled a genuine smile and shook the winner’s hand. He knew that the technical tide was with him.