Billy Biscoe called me out over my blog this week about the "spin" being put on the Darlington publicity this week stating that he perceived I am still "out of sorts" because NASCAR took away my Labor Day tradition when they took The Southern 500 from Darlington Raceway. Last night, I watched the SCETV special on "The Lady in Black" and one of the NASCAR "experts" being interviewed said something to the effect that moving the Southern 500 from Labor Day weekend was the start of disenchantment with NASCAR for many fans. I plan to go back and watch the recording to see who that was, but it I'm thinking it may have been Jim Hunter of NASCAR. but don't quote me on that........... yet.
Because I have the utmost respect for Mr. Biscoe, I examined my motive for my strong adversity to much of what NASCAR does these days. Briefly stated, I came up with these points:
1. I grew up in a time when short track racing was going on all around me and I was there; Columbia, Savannah, Augusta, Newberry, Myrtle Beach, Hickory, Metrolina. The guys driving the cars were real. They towed the cars there, worked on the cars, drove the cars, and towed them to the next race. I was even one of those guys for a few years. Most of us did it for the sport because, God knows, there wasn't a lot of money to be won and, admit it, in the 50s and 60s, a race driver was not usually invited to high society events.
2. I traveled, with my family, from track to track from the mid sixties to the eighties, in my parents motor home, with loads of friends going along, to attend the Grand National/Winston Cup races all over. We would park in the infield and hada regular group of folks from NC, GA, VA, FLA and TN who would circle up our motorhomes with a secure "impound area" inside where grills would be set up, tables, chairs, and we would eat the best food, enjoy the best conversations, and watch the best races at all the big tracks in the Southeast. We lived for those weekends and made friendships for life of our traveling bands of gypies. Somewhere in the late nineties, tracks started forcing us to park in specified parking spots, sometimes so close together you couldn't even extend your motorhome awing, prohibited camp fires, and general ruined the ambiance of an infield. It was no longer possible to establish our "camp" because of the forced parking arrangements. Just not the same so we stopped going in the infield.
3. Having given up the infield, which I never imagined I would do, I began to experience the grandstands. Charlotte Motor Speedway was not that bad an experience as I've sat in those stands more than once. Restrooms are, for the most part, well kept and concessions are within a short walk no matter what seats I had. However, my beloved Darlington is another story. I attended a race there by myself once, having bought a single ticket half way up the stands a little to the left of the start-finish line. At the last minutes, just before the race started, two Dale Earnhardt SR. fans show up, one with the ticket to the seat on my right,the other with the ticket to the seat on my left. The cooler they carried was just a little smaller than a mini-Cooper but that was not the major problem Both of these guys would make the contestants on The Biggest Loser look like Twiggy moders. I could see there was not way that was going to work being in the middle of that so I offered to allow them to sit together and I would take the outer seat. Instead, they preferred to keep their "assigned" seats. I absolutely could not move. I couldn't even bend my arm to drink a coke but they had no problem downing Bud after Bud. By lap 30, I excused myself and went to the back of the stands and stood the rest of the race. A couple years later, I returned to Darlington, again by myself, this time with a very expensive ticket to The Pearson Grandstand. I took my seat about an hour before racetime to watch the show and was really impressed with the view. As people began to enter the stands, my "seat mates' soon showed up, a lovely couple to my right having been married just two weeks before, and two "kids" about 19 or 20 to my left. We enjoyed some good old time race talk before the race started. Everything was fine, the view, the company, the ice cold Cokes and the sandwiches I had brought until it was finally time for that trip to the restroom as the result of my three cokes.
Let me tell you, that trip to the rest room was the classic example of a good day gone bad, terribly bad. At that time, I could only fine ONE rest room on the Pearson Grandstand tower and the line was about 100 guys long. In fact, I kept checking to make sure this wasn't the ladies restroom where there is always a line. Finally, after 45 minutes it was time to enter the small facility. As I stepped into the crowded "closet" my first thought was "Where is Moses when I need him to part this water so I can walk". The place was flooded, about 2 inches deep in water. Without being too descriptive, let's just say that experience is still so vivid in my mind that I sometimes find myself checking my shoe to see if that drunk to my left REALLY did that on my shoe. I could not believe that in the classy setting of The Pearson Grandstand, that was the best Darlington could do to maintain restroom facilities.
On the way to my seat, I stopped by concessions to get some popcorn. Never, in the anals of history, has there been worse popcorn. I have no idea how much ingenuity it takes to ruin popcorn, but that concessioniare managed to set precedence. It was that day when I decided that I will go to races ONLY where I have pit access or have seats in a corporate box. I have managed a couple of pit access experiences, but so far, corporate America has found no advantage of having me as their guest. Much the pity. I now kick back my recliner on raceday, make microwave popcorn, and when I have to use the facilities, there is no line, no flooded floors and it's only a few steps down the hall.
Do I miss being at the track? You bet I do! As my friend Billy Biscoe says, televsion can't do justice to the actual sport. What you see as speed on television is NOTHING. Stand in the pits, down near the fourth turn of any track, and watch the cars as they come off the turn. Unbelieveable. I get chill bumps EVERYTIME at the track when the "Gentlemen Start Your Engines" is intoned by whomever is the honoree, and I always "shake" during the parade laps. Watching on tv, I am only thinking that I MUST find the mute button on my remote before the dreaded combo of Larry Mac and D.W. screech on my nerves with the "Reach up there one more time......" and the most awful words in motorsports "B.....y, B....y, B.....y". So, Billy, I do want to be there but there are other reasons, besides the money it would take, that keeps me away.
So, the bottom line of my "problems" started in the mid-nineties when I began to feel that NASCAR had no respect for the fan, little respect for the competitors, but a HUGE respect for the corporate sponsors. I, along with many, many friends, had supported NASCAR through all those years when there were no corporate sponsors. We were buying the tickets and the souveniers to support the sport and our favorite driver. I actually had, at one time, a t-shirt for Richard Petty in 1964. That may have been the first driver's t-shirt on the market because I can't remember others.
The problems continued as we went to tracks and suddenly it was like the officials didn't care if we were there or not. Just give up your money, park where they told you, watch the race and then leave as quickly as you can so they can go home. Even at Darlington, the true home of Southern Hospitality, seemed as if it was a thing of the far distant past. I was not having problems with new, younger drivers coming on the scene replacing my heroes of so many years because time moves on and people get older and retire to assume other duties in the sport. We had some really good up and coming drivers and the competitiion was really that bad.
Other things were going on in the sport that caused me to wonder, sometimes question whether or not I would remain so dedicated to it. More and more I watched NASCAR begin to give up traditiions to dance with the corporate dollar and the marketing geniuses who obtained their marketing degrees from schools so far removed from the beginnings of racing that they were clueless that NASCAR even existed. Then, somewhere in career day, they were offered a position with a marketing concern for a large corporation and began to exploit the sport. NASCAR bought into it totally. A successful marketing statergy with R.J. Reynolds Winston Brand has proved most successful so the "suits" in Daytona were ready to be raped by the corporate guru guys and their deep bankaccounts. The common fan, most of us here I think, were "thrown under the bus" and forgotten.
It's almost poetic justice now that the corporate bank accounts are now not so bottomless and sponsorship deals are more and more difficult to come by and NASCAR is searching for answers. The Answer was always here. It's me. It's most of you on Racers Reunion. They need us back now, but "they" have to admit it. I never really left because NASCAR and stock car racing is my life and has been for coming up on 60 years. But I'm no longer tricked by marketing efforts to entice me back by saying things with no meaning. There is a heritage to racing. There IS a Junior Johnson, Ned Jarrett, Rex White and so many others who need to be guests of honor at EVERY race they wish to attend, with a special corporate box for ONLY them and their families. There needs to be an effort by NASCAR to ensure the full and complete history of the sport, from the meeting in the Streamline Hotel in 1948, or even before, is incorporated into publications and dvds to be placed in school libraries and public libraries throughout the country. There needs to be more authentic racing historic shows on The Speed Channel during prime time.
Oh, and Billy, you are correct. It was taking away my Labor Day tradition at Darlington that broke the camel's back. The day I heard that, I knew that I was no longer the "fan" NASCAR always exalts as so important to the sport. I was just an old man who used to get dirty at the tracks when they were dirt. I was the old man who would travel to races all over the southeast counting down to the pennies to make sure I could get there and back. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and Lays potato chips were the mainstays of my diet back then. Taking the Southern 500 from Darlington on Labor Day weekend was the final blow to telling me that all those years of going to races and preaching the sport in school and to whomever else would listen meant nothing. I was once called "The Billy Graham for Stock Car racing" by a friend who said I should be working for NASCAR in public relations. No wonder "The Lady" wears black. It is in mourning.
Tim
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What a change! It's been awhile since I've checked in and I'm quite surprised. It may take me awhile to figure it our but first look it's really great.
updated by @tim-leeming: 12/05/16 04:00:58PM
