Monday night, hey, everybody's watching. Toeing the line At an unseen signal, cars, trucks and vans pour into the parking lots, horns honking, drivers whooping. Tom Winkel watches his toes. He waves and points, waves and points, then stands at the back line of each row and lifts his hands, palm inward, beckoning the cars forward with curled fingers. Parking lot duty.
Most people are good.
Every now and again, a tire gets a toe. Monday, as twilight falls, toes need special care. In the concourse under the stands, hardly anyone can see toes. They are staring far more at heads and in the tightening swirl of crowds pushing clockwise and counter, the one they watch with the most amazement belongs to Brad Schultz of Whitewater. This is no small, uh, feat, because exotic plumage is the rule.