As of this writing an ounce of silver has an exchange value of $32.80. That puts the material value of the 153-pound Borg-Warner Trophy, which gets fractionally heavier every year, at around $80,294.40. The winner of each year’s Indianapolis 500 Mile Race gets a “smaller than an egg” hand-carved replica of their visage crafted from silver and brazed to the trophy itself. So, here’s the thing, If you wanted to join say, a heist team and you have a particularly impressive “Mission: Impossible” style set of skills, how would you hypothetically steal the Borg-Warner Trophy?
Race fans, start your engines because the @IMSMuseum is back and reimagined to bring #Indy500 and @IndyCar history to life. 🏁 And yes, the Borg-Warner Trophy® is standing tall in its new home. 🏆 pic.twitter.com/Q4cly9aoZ0
— Borg-Warner Trophy™ (@BorgTrophy) March 31, 2025
The biggest problem with stealing the Borg-Warner is that the trophy itself rarely ever leaves the Indianapolis Motor Speedway grounds. When it isn’t sitting in the winner’s circle during Indy 500 race weekend, it’s typically on display in the newly-revamped IMS Museum. Occasionally it is transported somewhere for a special event, like the IndyCar prize giving ceremony at the end of the season, or to BorgWarner’s corporate headquarters in Auburn Hills, Michigan. You might think stealing the trophy en route would be the easiest method, but it’s well guarded. What about during the race? There are hundreds of thousands of people on the grounds, it’d probably be easy to sneak into the right place and make it disappear, right? Hypothetically speaking, of course. It”s still 153 pounds, which means you probably aren’t slipping it into your pocket and casually walking away.
What do I want to do with it?
I don’t particularly care about the value of the trophy, which Indy claims around $3.5 million, because it would be perhaps the most difficult item in history to fence by dint of its recognizability, and melting it down for the silver is pure blasphemy. I want this trophy because it’s a truly beautiful piece of art. Each of those little faces, marking some of the greatest racing drivers of all time, stares out at you as if to pierce your very soul. As much as I want admire four tiny Hélio Castroneves faces, really, it’s the little naked flag-waving guy on top that makes it so desirable for me.
In my opinion, the best time to try to steal this trophy is this Sunday night. After all the pomp an circumstance in the run up to the race, after the 500 mile race is run, and after all of the myriad fans and spectators have shuffled out of the Brickyard, it’s time for post-race winner requirements. The victor of the race, whomever of the 33 starters they may be, has to stick around for hours for photo commitments, sponsor events, and interviews. At some point in all that kerfuffle, we can poke around in the background waiting for the right moment. Perhaps dressed as Speedway janitors we can wheel a trash can over to the trophy and drop it in without anyone being the wiser, then wheel it away. Or maybe we could pull a Grinch and say we’re taking it to be cleaned and we’ll bring it right back. I’m from ’round the way, I’m leavin’ here with somethin’.
And, uh, Roger Penske, if you’re reading this, please don’t cancel my tickets to the race. I’m definitely not going to steal the Borg-Warner.
