Most Embarrassing?

I have been embarrassed more than once (though my wife will claim nothing embarrasses me) as a race fan or participant.

My top two moments that immediately come to mind:

1) Being locked in the turn one grandstand restroom at Martinsville following a Ray Hendrick Cardinal 500 NASCAR Modified win.

2) Walking up on Richard Childress in a department store in Winston-Salem, NC's Hanes Mall in 1981 one week after he signed his sponsorship with Wrangler Jeans. He was purchasing a pair of our competitor Levis for his daughter, Tina. Ever see Jimmy Stewart juggle his hat around in the movie "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington?" Well, that describes Richard. My wife reminded me that evening that we had two daughters and I might be caught in the same predicament one day.

Do you remember a "Most Embarrassing Moment" as a race fan or participant?

Dave, I am currently working on my top 100 most embarrassing racing moments. I'm currently up to 83. Not sure I'll share any of them here. Everyone who knows me already knows I'm clumbsy, clutzey, and generally off the mark with eveything I do so I don't need to add fuel to that fire.

One of our daughters never made it through a meal without the word "oops" being said as she knocked over her milk or whatever. She took so many spills working as a server in a sports bar/restaurant that the crew lovingly nicknamed her "Grace." Not sure how much of that clumsiness was inherited!

While not MY most embarrassing moment, we had the pleasure of watching someone ELSE embarrass themselves. In the early 90s, we went to Talladega, camped behind turn 2, parked just outside of the family camp area, and walked to our seats. Bad parking strategy.

After the race, we tried to blend in traffic as we went past what I called hooligan row - the wild bunch area that used to congregate behind the back stretch area. We got to just about turn 3 when we hit a dead stop. The traffic goobers opened the turn 3 gate and had all sorts of motorhomes crossing in almost a perpendicular direction to us. Terrible.

Then this good ol' boy - mullet, skinny, wife-beater t-shirt, sagging Levi's, bare feet, a Marlboro red between his fingers - stormed up between the multiple lines of cars. He was flailing his arms and cussing the motorhomes. Suddenly, the door to one of them opened and out stepped ... Bobby Allison.

The Bubba's jaw dropped and he started jumping for joy. He turned back towards his boys stuck somewhere behind us I guess and yelled with glee "Its Bobby Allison! Its Bobby Allison! Hee, hee" as if he were Earnest T. Bass. Bobby pulled him close and whispered something. The guy said something back & next thing you know someone showed up snapping pictures of the two of them.

Then the guy went into work mode like a highway patrolman. He parted traffic like Moses parted the Red Sea. Bobby got back in his camper & off it went. I'm guessing he was headed for the airstrip behind the track. And I'm guessing the guy traded his cooperation for a photo-op.

While an embarrassing moment for him, I guess he still made the most of it.

Well Dave two moments come to mind. The first was when a car spun in front of me and I hit him AFTER he had come to a complete stop. My crew chief Mike assumed that I had just not seen him because of traffic and when I admitted that I had seen him spin he said without cracking a smile " You should not have told me that." He still reminds me of that night from time to time and says " I can't believe you hit that guy." It is embarrassing to tell the story now.

The next takes a longer to tell. We ran Limited Sportsman and usually raced right after the Late Models. There were 3 more divisions that ran after us and after loading the car I would change out of my uniform and join the group of 10 to 15 people that usually came to watch me race, mostly family and church friends, in the grandstands. They loved picking on me and never missed a chance to have a laugh at my expense. Well this night we had broken into the the top five, 4th I think, and the PA announcer would interview the top 5 as we waited to go across the scales. As usual I changed my clothes standing in the open door of the pickup, yall know how dark the infield of a short track can be, and thought nothing of it. Now my "fans" had to make sure that I did not get the big head and made sure everyone in the stands around them watched as I changed. When I got into the stands people started to stand, clap, cheer and hand me dollar bills and saying "Good Job, Great Show". Dazed and confused at what was happening I looked up and saw my "fans" laughing themselves to tears. They had put them up to giving me the money and then accused me of thinking they were rewarding me for the display of my driving ability. My wife finally had held it as long as she could and said "They watched you change clothes you dummy". Red faced I gave all the money back.

This night was not only embarrassing, it changed my (my otherwise "fairly" clean) reputation.

One hot night at Kingsport Speedway, I qualified on the pole and after the roll of the dice ( to invert the field) started 6th. Some how all five cars ahead of me wrecked that night on my way to the win. Oddly...I had been somehow (unintentionally) involved in all of them in that they all happened right in front of me. In the last one...I was in second behind one of my good friends Rod Collins. We were putting on a good show..and (on the last lap I think) as we exited turn 2 with me right on his bumper, his rear end broke and I spun him out. The only other person who knew I didn't intentionally spin him out was Rod himself. To everyone in the stands and pits it evidently looked like he was the last one in my way of getting the win.

Before Rod could let his crew know I was innocent they joined the other 4 crews with me in victory lane and voiced their feelings as the track announcer asked how it felt to wreck everyone in front of me to win a race. Having to have the sheriff's deputies help us to get back to my trailer and stand guard while we loaded, was certainlyembarrassingenough. But the overall night was an embarrassment to me. The truth...although I was an aggressive driver, I never intentionally wrecked anyone....ever! This was not the reputation I wanted.

We went on to win 13 of 22 races that year and although all the others were "fairly" clean wins the reputation that began that night followed me. Not only is itembarrassing...I hated that reputation. Still do. It was not as it seemed. As Johnny says, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Hmmm....

Wondering if our fearless leader Jeff might be any kin to "Terrible" Tommy Ellis?

I was reminded of one particular night in the 70s when Tommy had a few problems and found this short recap in a 1986 Orlando Sentinel story on Tommy:

At Lonesome Pine Speedway in Coeburn, Va., a fight that started on the track and spilled into the pits got so bad that the police had to turn out the lights at the track so they could escort Ellis out in the dark without restarting the riot.

I guess you might be a Rodeo Goat if they ever had to turn out the race track lights so you could leave safely!

My mostembarrassingmoment. I work for a local TV station. One of our sports guys was covering pit stops and the aspect of that in racing. He called me and asked, "Hey want to shoot some NASCAR with me in Carl Edwards pits?" I said sure. It was the 2007 Ford 300 at Homestead. Last ever Busch Grand National Series race. Last race for Busch. So we are in the pits. Met Carl's Mom. Met the crew chief. We got some great shots of pit stops behind the wall. It was tight confines in the pits and that pit wall is larger then I thought. So my reporter keeps poking me around to get certain things and being my eyes so I do not trip over anything. Carl will clinch the title just finishing the race. So there is not too much pressure so they do not mind us being there. So the race ends.

We go down to the track for the Championship trophy presentation. I got a great shot of Edwards backflip. I was happy. We are thick in mobs of people. Then my reporter starts poking at me and does not say anything and gets all hyper. Finally I go, "WHAT?" I turn around and it is none other then Jack Roush poking at me trying to get by. I apologized. But man I felt like crap after that.