Bench Racing From the Volunteer State

Schaefer co-founder Philly and I flew to Manchester, New Hampshire on a Friday morning in July 2005 for a great weekend culminating in the New England 300 Cup race at what was then Bob Bahre's New Hampshire International Speedway.

We dropped our bags and keys after a rental car's drive to our hotel on the outskirts of Boston. The hotel shuttle guy dropped us at a nearby T station, and off we headed to Fenway and uncertain destinations afterwards.

A co-worker and I did a similar trip two years earlier. In 2003, he and I got a pair of BoSox v. Toronto Blue Jays tickets at less than face from an angry young lady. She was livid because her boyfriend hadn't showed or called. She sold us the tickets for $25 each, we thanked her and bought her a drink, and grinned all the way to our seats.

Philly and I weren't quite as fortunate in 2005. One, the opponent was the New York Yankees. Two, we didn't cross paths with a scorned Bostonian female. Despite holding out until the bottom of the first, street prices didn't flex down much. We begrudgingly parted with a hundred bucks each ... and then some, but we were about to experience Red Sox vs. Yankees in Fenway.

I'm no baseball fan, but I truly dig a baseball park experience. The game itself was a blowout with the home team winning 17-1. But to be in the park and soak in all the animosity the Boston fans for their New York rival was surreal to say the least.

Leaving the park, we decided to clear our heads a bit by walking to Back Bay and beyond. We made our way to the obligatory tourist trap of the Cheers bar, formerly known as the Bull and Finch Pub.

Source: Wikipedia

With nowhere else to go until mid-morning Saturday, we asked the waitress to keep bringing 'em until it was near time for the final T run for the night.

A good time was had - and Philly was particularly generous. On a return trip from the john, he stopped by the bar and bought two nice, ornate steins for us. Philly's goal is to spend ZERO on race trips so this was an extremely kind and unexpected gesture on his part. (Plus he was already over budget with his Fenway spend.)

The waitress finally said "OK, you've got about 15 minutes to make the final T for the night." Somehow we paid her and got directions to the subway station.

After dropping our tokens and bumbling down the stairs, there sat the T with the doors open. We prided ourselves on a job-well-done. Maximum enjoyment time on a Friday night before race weekend. But the doors didn't close. With it being the last train of the night, we surmised the operator was holding it a bit longer for the extra stragglers.

Suddenly, standing wasn't good for Philly.

Philly: I gotta take a leak man.
TMC: No way. The subway is about to leave.
Philly: I'll never make it to our stop. I'll be right back.

And boom off he went. I knew our stop, but I wasn't sure if Phil remembered. He could hail a cab if necessary, but I'm not sure he could provide a cogent address. He fortunately made it back in time before the doors closed, and I immediately declined any intel as to where he watered the concrete flowers.

We made it to our stop, lumbered to the top of the stairs, plopped on the curb, called the hotel, and sighed as we waited for the hotel shuttle.

Then ever so calmly, Philly said simply "Well. Damn."

What??

"Remember when I went to take a leak? Well, I took the steins with me. And when I zipped and walked, I reckon I forgot to pick 'em back up."

- - - - - - - - - -

The recently retired Tony Stewart won the Cup race in dominating fashion. The race was the second and final time I saw Smoke take the checkers.

Credit: Motorsport.com

And though Philly may have lost his newly purchased steins, at least he didn't present the winner of a 300-mile race with a 400 flag.

Credit: Motorsport.com

TMC

Far too many NASCAR-related press releases include home track references. Yet some old school fans and a handful of (mostly retired) drivers can legitimately claim one. Nashville's Fairgrounds Speedway is indeed my home track.

I saw my first race at Nashville in 1974 - a national late model sportsman race of which I don't remember much.
I watched Cup cars for the first time live in 1976 during qualifying for the Nashville 420.
The 1978 Music City USA 420 was my first Cup race to attend, and
Qualifying night for the Busch Nashville 420 gave me my first chance to roam a NASCAR 'garage' area on July 9, 1982.

Following my first Cup race, my aunt and uncle led me through the gate, across the start-finish line, and into the pits to look for drivers and cars. It was arguably my most memorable experience to that point as a fan. Other than that night in 1978, I simply used a ticket to sit in the stands.

I don't recall how I learned a pass could be purchased to simply walk through the back tunnel and into the hub of activity on qualifying night. But I remember the cost wasn't much - ten bucks or something like that. Other memories have faded from that night too.

I can't remember if I went with someone or alone. I was a fairly new driver, and it's hard to believe my folks would have let me take the family Olds to the fairgrounds. But I have zero recall of conversations with anyone else I knew that night.
Did I take a pen and paper or did someone let me borrow some? I've got several autographs from that night on varying scraps of paper, but I don't remember taking a notepad or pen from home.

I do remember, however, wanting to see two specific cars: the 43 of King Richard and the 42 of Kyle Petty. Roaming the inner loop of the track that served as Nashville's 'garage' area, I found the Petty Enterprises transporter - but not the cars or drivers.

I continued strolling by the transporters and trailers and then back up towards the quarter-mile track and pit road. A few drivers autographed my meager supply of paper including future NASCAR Hall of Famers Dale Earnhardt from Bud Moore's Ford team, Terry Labonte, and Bobby Allison and other legends such as Harry Gant, Ricky Rudd, Buddy Arrington, and Sterling Marlin.

A J.D. Stacy Racing van was parked on the quarter-mile, and I stopped for a look in hopes of meeting the #2 Buick's crew chief: Dale Inman. Though I didn't cross paths with him, I did spot the car's driver: Tim Richmond. He offered me a signed postcard, but someone told him they'd run out of them. Tim leaned into the van and said something to the effect of "Toss me that one right there. Yeah, that one." Next thing I know, he had autographed a copy of a race program, handed it to me, winked, and thanked me as he returned to his conversation. Needless to say, I was sky high and had renewed energy to seek out the Petty cars.

I made it to pit wall - and there they were. Most of the cars had been pushed to pit road for qualifying. Each car had a ribbon of individual orbs of light reflected from the track's grandstand roof bulbs. And there it was - Kyle's 42 with new sponsor UNO playing cards from his new deal between STP, UNO, Petty Enterprises and Hoss Ellington.

Stepping across pit wall and standing next to the car was a rush. Using my pitiful GAF 110 camera with the four-sided Magicubes, I carefully tried to frame and snap some choice pics. I opened plenty of sleeves of racing photos as a kid and had been disappointed with the results. But all in all, I was pleased with what I captured on pit road that night.

Not far from Kyle's Pontiac was the The King's 43 with the reverse day-glo red and Petty Blue scheme. I'm sure crewmen such as Mike Beam, Steve Hmiel, Richmond Gage, Wade Thornburg, Robin Pemberton, etc. were all over the cars. For whatever reason though, I tuned out anyone milling about the car and focused just on absorbing the colors and shapes of them.

After getting the snaps I wanted, I crossed back over pit wall and just tried to soak in what was happening. Suddenly it dawned on me I recognized a driver sitting on pit wall with his back to me.

By 1982, I had three or four Richard Petty autographs in my collection. All, however, were on postcards sent to me by STP or Petty Enterprises.

But here he was - the man, the legend, the King - sitting in front of where I was standing. And now I had a chance to meet him. Yet a weird and ill-timed thought crossed my mind that I still vividly remember: How do I get his attention? What would my proper mama have me say?

I tried door number 1: Mr. Petty? (She would've been proud of me.) No response.

Door number 2: King? (Hey, I was a fan.) Nothing.

Door number 3: Richard? (She would've cringed.) Again, nothing - and I wasn't sure I was up to tapping him on the shoulder as a fourth attempt.

Finally and fortunately, a crew guy nudged his leg, pointed behind him, and said "That kid's trying to get your attention."

"Hey man, how ya doin'? How long ya been back there?"

It's kind of embarrassing now to look back at how pathetic my first encounter with Richard Petty was. Good grief, I was well up in my teen years. I had already approached other drivers that night, collected autographs, thanked them, smiled, and moved along - all without issue. For some reason though, meeting The King seemed different. It's a wonder I didn't just puddle right there from my nervousness.

Despite the fact he was about to climb into his car to qualify and was likely done for the moment meeting fans as he got ready to do his job, he did what King Richard seems to have always done. He took the time to greet a fan - and sign an autograph for this one for the first time.

As last year's racing season concluded, it dawned on me 2017 will be my 43rd year as a Petty fan.

TMC

Some have wondered.
Some have guessed.
I've shared with some.
Others couldn't give a rip.

But here goes.

I've blogged a handful of times about one of my uncles introducing me to racing back in 1974. He took me to my first late model sportsman race and first Cup race - both at Nashville's Fairgrounds Speedway. He also took me to my first Daytona 500 in 1980. Other than those occasions, however, we didn't go to many races together.

Another uncle - the youngest of the four siblings - invited us to Daytona in 1991 for the annual ~~Pepsi~~ err Firecracker 400. I had been the previous couple of years with different friends, but this was to be the my first race with three of my uncles.

My oldest uncle rode with me. Ronald - the one that intro'd me to racing - drove separately with my cousins in his Camaro. We stayed together pretty closely on the trip from Tennessee to Jacksonville on Friday. Not a bad pace - 70-75 most of the way. Until.

We got to Lake City FL and knew the next milestone was the Duval County / Jacksonville city limits line. As we approached it, both of us amp'd the speed a bit more. As we got well into the county and close to Orange Park, we were both flying. (Not advised kids.) I was in front of him and blocking by switching lanes on I-295.

But I deked when I should've juked, and he re-passed me as we hit the Buckman Bridge over the St. John's River. The bridge was a no-passing zone back then. But I swung around another car, passed Ronald, and moved back in front of him as we exited the interstate on the other side of the bridge. I held the lead until we got to my uncle's house, and my oldest uncle and I declared ourselves the winners. My cousins immediately howled in protest about my no-pass zone infraction. Either way, we knew a great weekend was about to unfold.

We headed for Daytona early Saturday to make the 10AM green flag. Many today frequently pine for a return to that tradition. Those that do so either (1) have never experienced it or (2) have forgotten what it was like. It was beyond hot. We may well have been halfway to Hades after having interstate-raced the night before.

But...we were there.

Let's see...

Chilled adult beverages? Perhaps a few
Sunscreen - scant
Water - zero

I honestly remember little of the race except for Awful Bill from Dawsonville winning in his blue Coors Light Ford and the bad wreck involving Joe Ruttman and Darrell Waltrip.

As you may have rightfully surmised, I wasn't a big fan of Elliott back in the day. One of my uncle's friends who went with us and his young son, however, were big Elliott homers, and they were elated. The kid gloated all the way back to Jax as the rest of us continued consuming the remaining inventory of the coolers.

Once home, someone had the lame-brained idea of playing basketball on my uncle's concrete driveway. Frequent replenishment with Gatorade? Umm, not exactly - unless Stokely Van Camp had a Bud flavored one.

My oldest uncle had a belly as big as west Texas and sported a shirt the size of Rhode Island. He acted as if he had the game of Lebron James, but his hoop skills were much closer to those of Etta James. The rest of us just flopped around, missed shots, paused to take a swig, and fell down...a lot.

I spent as much time lifting myself from the scorching concrete as I did with my ferocious defense on an uncle or cousins who by now were beginning to look a lot alike and starting to replicate in numbers. At some point, I collided with Ronald and went to the deck.

As we sweated, laughed and burned, the 12 year-old Bill Elliott fan stood over me after one of my falls and declared with resignation: "Mr. Chase, who know what your problem is? You're full of too much country."

I have no idea where he came up with that - and really wasn't sure at the time what he even meant. But I started laughing and then embraced it. I got up, tousled his hair, and replied "Ya know Nick, you got that right. I am full of too much country."

Nick the Elliott fan at Talladega two races later

Over time, I've defined the label as I've seen fit. I've embraced it as as compliment, accept it as an insult, and often see it in others.

In May 2016, I met Darrell Waltrip in Charlotte coming down the Smith Tower elevator following Thursday night qualifying for the Coke 600. I'd met Ol' DW before but re-intro'd myself. I said "We've met before DW, but my name is Chase. You've seen me on Twitter as toomuchcountry." He paused and joked for the benefit of others on the elevator "Hmm, I didn't think there was such a thing as too much country." I held our shake an extra moment, maintained eye contact and replied "Yes, there is...and No, there isn't."

A quarter-century and then some ago. Wow. I've watched many races since then. I'm now more diligent about using sunscreen, my water intake is much higher, I consume far fewer cans of Schaefer, and I haven't raced to a race since July 1991.

And now you know the origin of toomuchcountry.

TMC

Soon after closing on our first house, I learned my little Toyota Corolla was ill-equipped for regular runs to the hardware store, landscaping lot, Walmart, etc. Adding to the need for more room in my vehicle was the addition of Winston to our household.

As a pup, Winston went just about everywhere with me. Getting smacked in the race by his sturdy and hyperactive puppy tail, however, got really old. I traded out my Yota for a 1993 Jeep Grand Cherokee, and life was a wee bit better.

I bought the standard, two-wheel drive model though I also test-drove the 4WD version. I opted for the two-wheel drive one because:

The handling was more to my liking,
I didn't plan to take it on many off-road excursions, and
The dealer wanted $2,000 extra for the 4WD option!

Schaefer co-founder Philly and I loaded the Jeep on a Saturday morning in April 1994 for an overnight trip to Bristol. We were on our way for the Food City 500. (As an aside, we were as stunned as anyone and laughed heartily as we heard on MRN that Mark Martin pulled off the track a lap early to gift the Busch race win to David Green.)

On Sunday, we picked a lot well away from the track. Cost wasn't bad - 10 bucks or so. After watching Earnhardt win...again, our jaws dropped as we arrived at our parking lot. The buttheads running the lot had eked out every stinking dollar of revenue they could. Vehicles were parked parallel and perpendicular liked a series of failed Tetris rows.

We were blocked on the sides and behind us. One upside we had, however, is no one was in front of me. A couple of options were available:

wait for a bunch of half-lit fans to lollygag back to the lot and leave so we could back out -or-
pull straight ahead, cross a small ditch, climb the slight rise, and turn right on the highway.

Facing a 5+ hour ride home to Chattanooga plus work on Monday, option 1 was immediately discarded. I eased down one side of the embankment, through the marshy bottom of the ditch, and up the other side. But then...

With the wet ditch, I got zero traction. I tried not to spin the rear tires, but I was making no forward progress.

As a few good ol' boys sauntered up, they offered sage advice "DROP IT IN 4 WHEEL DRIVE MAN!" I laughingly bellowed back "I would if I'd had two grand more."

Philly stepped out of the passenger side and asked the guys if they could give us a hand. Sure enough, the inebriated bunch of good-hearted souls gathered at the rear of my Jeep and yelled Go!

I eased into the gas but still wasn't going anywhere at first. But then bit by bit, I moved forward some. I glanced to my left and spotted Philly doubled-over laughing outside the door. Before I could even ask what was so funny, he stammered out just keep going between laughs.

Finally I popped out on the shoulder of the highway, and the Jeep's rear wheels were again back on asphalt. Philly yelled thanks and jumped in. I threw my hand out the window to acknowledge them too, but returned my focus to checking my mirrors for on-coming traffic.

Philly then said while still busting a gut "stop a second and look at those clowns." All of them - several shirtless - were covered ankle-to-neck in fresh mud.

With a shake of the head and you've GOT to be kidding me, we headed for I-81 to lead us home.

TMC

All true Petty fans, most NASCAR fans, and even several racing novices know Richard Petty won his first of seven Daytona 500s in 1964. He started from the front row alongside Paul Goldsmith and went on to dominate the 500.

A somewhat hidden piece of history, however, is how the front row was determined that year. Goldsmith and Petty laid down the quickest laps with their Plymouths and newly unveiled Hemi engines during qualifying on Friday, February 7. Prior to 1964 and in each year after 1964, the top two speeds guaranteed the top two starters for the 500.

Source: Asheville Citizen-Times

A new wrinkle, however, was added in 1964. The odd and even numbered qualifiers from Friday raced in twin 50-mile races on Saturday, February 8. The winners of the two races secured the top two starting positions. Goldsmith and Petty won their respective twin, so it worked out that the two quickest cars did earn the front row. Had the duo NOT won their races, however, they would have had to earn their spots in the traditional 100-mile twins held a few days before the 500.

Source: The Greenville News

Though the 100-mile twins counted in the pre-Winston era as official races, the 1964 50-mile pole races did not. (Nor did other Daytona 500 consolation and Firecracker qualifying races held between 1959 and 1967.) So add another win to Richard's list of Daytona accomplishments - especially when the media compares Earnhardt's Clash, twins, IROC, and other non-GN/Cup Daytona wins to the King.

Source: Daytona Beach Morning Journal

In his 100-mile qualifying twin, Petty ran out of gas coming to the checkers allowing Bobby Isaac squeak by for the win and Jimmy Pardue in second. If someone other than Isaac had won the 50-mile race, King may well have started 8th vs. 2nd in the 500. With Petty's domination in the 500, however, it likely didn't matter where the 43 started - though his number of laps led may have decreased by a couple.

TMC

Schaefer co-founder Philly and I made our way to Bristol in April 1992 for the Food City 500. The race was to be my first Bristol race since Rusty Wallace's first win in the 1986 Valleydale Meats 500, and I believe it was Philly's first Bristol trip.

Philly scored us a pair of tickets when he traded with his apartment neighbor for a set of bar stools. With the transaction being a somewhat last minute deal, we had to wrangle a place to stay. Remarkably, we found a room at the Red Roof Inn in Johnson City.

As we checked in, we asked the desk clerk for a recommendation to watch the NCAA basketball tourney games that afternoon and evening. She politely and articulately directed us to a neighboring chain restaurant. It had a lounge and would likely be airing the game.

Philly and I looked at each other, sneered, smirked, and returned to her. "That's fine and all. But it'll probably be crowded, overpriced, and boring. Where would you go if you weren't working tonight?"

She lowered her head, slipped into her natural east Tennessee country accent, and replied with gusto, "Well hell, I'd go to the Horseshoe Lounge up by the VA Hospital. They got the best burgers in Johnson City." Sold!

After getting directions, we dumped our gear and then laughed as we pulled into the parking lot of Casey's Horseshoe Lounge - a fine looking, hole-in-the-wall, entertainment venue. Once inside, we wondered if we'd gone to heaven. The bar had a NASCAR theme with name badges affixed to each table and driver swag hanging on the wall above each of them.

The burgers were indeed fantastic, and we downed them with a NASCAR-related but non-driver-specific Busch. After a couple of them, I was the first to break the seal. Returning to my chair, I found that Philly had ordered us a couple of PBR tall boys. Nice.

When Philly hit the can, I returned the favor and ordered a couple of Old Milwaukee quarts. Yes, they had genuine 32 ounce glass Old Mil bottles. They were dreadful, but the laughter, hoops, and fellow bar patrons were all fantastic.

As the night wore on, Casey's added several more folks. Being noobs in the place, we kept an active sixth sense in case the vibe turned south. We surrendered our table and moved closer to the door just to keep our options open.

After peaking our awfulness with Old Mil, we returned to an icy mug of something more mainstream. Miller Lite, Coors Light, whatever. I made what I believe was a very astute...and prescient... comment to Philly:

Ever notice in the movies when they have bar fights where folks smash beer mugs over each others' heads? But have you ever actually seen a mug break? These things are indestructible! I've seen waitresses drop them and drunks knock 'em over, but they never break.

Within moments after had I said it, chaos broke out..kinda. With no warning, some dude found himself laying right in the middle of a couple's table. Their burgers went flying as did their beer mugs - which shattered as they hit the floor!

The new centerpiece managed to lift himself from the table to reveal a shirt smothered in mustard, and he feebly muttered Sorry. His buds came over to assist him - and brought a pair of cuff crutches! Turns out the poor slob had serious issues with his legs and needed the crutches to walk. When he went to take a leak, however, he was so drunk he had forgotten his crutches! He took one or two steps and pitched right over into the poor couple's date night meal.

TMC

A fitting post for Valentine's Day I think...

Aside from the racing, time with friends, and enjoyment of Schaefer, one of the most enjoyable parts for me of attending a NASCAR weekend is meeting new folks. We've had some of the best times meeting couples from Loudon to Vegas and from Phoenix to Charlotte. It's fun to see their tailgating styles, menu options, which driver they pull for, their pets, whatever. Having said that, I travel as the sole representative of my own household on racing trips for three specific reasons.

Strike 1

Not long after a co-worker and I started dating, I regularly mentioned my passion for racing. She agreed to give it a try, and we went to Talladega in May 1989 for the Winston 500.

I'd been to Talladega once before. For the 1987 Winston 500, I sat on the frontstretch just a couple of sections to the right of Harold Kinder - not far from where Bobby Allison horrifically ripped the fence. The tickets were comp'd, and I really didn't explore the track much or have a strategy for parking.

Because our plan to go in '89 was last minute, I didn't buy reserved seats. Instead, we opted for general admission backstretch tickets. My girlfriend's first impression of the scene was not a favorable one.

The morning air was pretty chilly.
The wooden bleachers were full of splinters.
The smell of cigarette smoke hung heavy in the air.
And the hootin' and hollerin' from the rowdies was already at volume level 8.

As race time drew near, the sun jumped the temps pretty quickly. A good ol' boy lounging on the grassy bank below our bleachers decided it was time to get in the zone. He was wearing a pair of sweat pants, and he stumbled a bit as he tried to shed them in favor of his shorts. But in the process of doing so, he managed to hook his thumbs in the waistband of this sweats, shorts, and tighty-whities. He mooned the whole bleacher section - including my girlfriend. Don't look Ethel!

When the green flag dropped and the restricted engines of the bunched pack muscled up to speed, I focused more on the race than I did her. Hey, we were at a race. Right? It wasn't as if we were on a date date.

The bleacher bums amp'd their lusty cheers to 11 as their heroes screamed down the backstretch - the Earnhardt's Goodwrench Chevy, Rusty's Kodiak Pontiac, Neil Bonnett in the Wood Brothers' Ford, and Alabama's newest favorite son Davey Allison in the Havoline Ford. WHOOOOOO! But my girlfriend just sat there stoically and wasn't buying it.

About halfway through the race, one of the fellas behind us needed a break. Rather than cross over his brethren, he decided he'd step down a few rows of empty pine. After navigating a couple of them successfully, he misstepped one and pitched forward. Fortunately for him - but not so much for us - my girlfriend was his brake. He caught her in the upper back and bent her over as he stopped. To his credit, he pulled up and slobbered out a meek sorry ma'am.

To my credit, I was chivalrous, defended my lady friend, dog cussed the guy, and tossed him to the aisle. Actually, that's a bald-faced lie. I laughed heartily at the whole scene and earned a death glare from her when it wasn't directed at Gomer.

The bad situation (for her - still funny to me) got worse as the race hit the 3/4 mark and the dicing intensified. The intensity was too much for another one of our new-found buddies behind us to stomach. Or maybe it was the prodigious amount of booze he'd consumed that weekend. Either way, we heard the unmistakable sound of wretching as the Puke Monster unloaded on the empty bleacher row in front of him. That's it, enough. She was ready to bolt for the car, but fortunately I talked her into moving a couple of sections away so I could be there for the finish.

Amazingly, we made it to the end. Even more surprising is she later agreed to marry me, and we got hitched about 18 months later. I'm glad we stayed. As it turned out, I was there to see Davey take the win as I was his other two times in 1987 and 1992.

Strike 2

Two years after Talladega, she agreed to give racing a second chance. Being a bit wiser myself, I opted for going to Atlanta instead of coaxing her into a return trip to Talladega. Our target: the 1991 Motorcraft 500. To help things a bit, a friend of mine and his wife went with us.

We were prepared for a great day of racing fun. Alan Kulwicki qualified fastest in his debut race with Hooters as his sponsor, and Ken Schrader had a fast car which made my friend happy.

The race began, but then a persistent rain followed. We sat in the stands with our meager ponchos as we hoped for relief. The track's PA announcer and MRN reassured the fans that we'd soon be racing again because a weather window was opening. I bet we heard weather window a hundred times that afternoon.

The window never opened, and the remainder of the race was postponed until Monday. On our way back to Chattanooga, my buddy and I made the decision to take a vacation day and return for the conclusion. But not my wife. She'd had enough.

Strike 3

When Richard Petty announced his plans to retire after the end of the 1992 season, Schaefer co-founder Philly and I made plans to hit as many races as we could that year. Of critical importance to us was attending his final event - the Hooters 500 at Atlanta. I asked my wife if she wanted me to buy her a ticket as well. The King's last race - on a fall, southern afternoon? C'mon.

Her answer was along the lines of "Fine, but I'll take a book to read." What? A book? I replied it would be wasted money if I bought her a ticket only to have her read the whole time. Who could even do that? "Then don't buy me a ticket. I really don't wanna go anyway." So I didn't.

My 43rd year as a racing fan is now underway. And I've been the sole representative from my home at all races I've attended since March 1991. I generally have a great time meeting other couples at races, but odds are slim to none any of them will ever meet my better half.

TMC

The first visit to Johnson City, TN's Horseshoe Lounge in 1992 by Schaefer co-founder Philly and I was random. Our return visit in 1994 was planned. As we hit the county line to ready for the Food City 500, we knew after our destiny was to once again order the best burger in Johnson City along with a cold Busch or two to wash it down.

As we pulled into the parking lot, we were confused a bit by a new sign. Instead of Casey's Horseshoe Lounge, the sign now read McCreary's Horseshoe Lounge. Yet we walked into the place like we were old timers and found a seat at an empty table.

Our waitress came over and politely let us know the table was reserved. (I don't remember her name, but I'll refer to her going forward as Shirley because the name fit the place.) "Reserved? Y'all take reservations??" Surprisingly, they did take call-ahead seating requests - especially for regulars which we were not. But Shirley said they weren't expected for another hour, so we could stay until then.

We had to ask - McCreary's? What happened to Casey? "Aww, that changed a couple of months ago hon. Hey y'all! When did we change the name?" [from behind the bar: "Wasn't it the week after the Super Bowl?"] DOH! OK, that answered that question.

Hot, fresh, tasty burgers and fries arrived along with a cold brew - and then began the afternoon entertainment: karaoke. Some sad sack named Johnny took the mic - black toboggan on his head, scraggly beard, a pack of smokes in his pocket, and a beer in hand. Johnny commenced to singing (or attempted to sing) some sort of sad, country ballad. Something along the lines of Merle, Hank or Cash - though I've long forgotten the barely recognizable tune. But rather than just sing, his drunken state led him to keep the microphone almost in his mouth. His singing came off more like a Bill Cosby bit or a low-octave version of Miss Othmar, Charlie Brown's teacher.

After Johnny finished and earned some tepid applause, another couple of brave souls took the mic to sing redneck karaoke. Johnny soon returned, however, and was ready for more. Our burgers had fortunately vanished by then; otherwise, we could not have eaten them because of our laughter.

Having lost track of time, we were a bit surprised when Shirley returned, apologized, and said she needed our reserved table. We understood and were prepared to make our break. But this sweetheart had more. "Y'all ain't gotta leave. Nina and Larry said y'all could sit with them."

Who? Sure enough, we turned around and spotted a random couple at another booth waving at us. Shirley had done some recon for us, explained we were race fans from out of town, and were facing "no room in the inn." We laughed, politely declined the kind offer from Nina and Larry, but chose to stick around for a bit more of Johnny's hillbilly lounge act.

Shirley continued to be an excellent waitress. She kept an eye on us and made sure we had a cold replacement. As we stood against the wall, a table of beastly females started grinning and asked if we wanted to sing with them. Before I could suggest we tab out, Philly said "Sure! Sign us up!"

Shirley returned and asked "another'n?". Though I wanted no part of road pig karaoke, I did make a final request.

Shirley, we want two Miller High Lifes. But - I want you to peel the labels off of the bottles. Miller sponsored Bobby Allison. Did you know when he got hurt at Pocono in '88, they dropped him like a bad date? So we ain't about to publicly support the brand. Got it?

She walked away confused - and rightfully so considering my embellishment. Meanwhile, we got a countdown update. "Y'all 'bout ready? We're number 6! What y'all wanna sing?" Lawd almighty, get me out of here.

Philly then nudged me, pointed and said "Look at that." Sure 'nuff, Shirley was at the bar with with two High Lifes and a butter knife.

We're number 3 y'all!

She brought two nekkid bottles to us, and I gave her a hug and asked for the tab. With a clink and a laugh, I told Philly "Bury it so we can go."

We're up next y'all! Chug man.

When Shirley returned, we palmed her plenty of cash to cover our tab plus a generous tip. We tossed our empties, turned for the door, and thankfully escaped the grand stage of McCreary's Horseshoe Lounge.

A few years ago, I stumbled over Horseshoe Lounge written by songwriter Slaid Cleaves. Though I understand the song is based on a real bar by that name as well as plenty of general bar adventures, the song isn't about our Horseshoe. Nonetheless, Slaid included enough close-to-the-pin references that I can relate it to our two visits.

TMC

The 1980 Daytona 500 was my first to attend. A few months earlier at the wedding of my uncle Earl, my uncle Ronald who had introduced me to racing about five years earlier committed to taking me to Daytona. With King Richard having won the 1979 500 and his seventh title, I was on a high knowing he'd likely return strong in the 1980 race.

Ronald was always somewhat of a free spirit. As race week arrived, my travel plans suddenly changed. Rather than have me ride with him to Jacksonville to stay with Earl and his new bride, Ronald called my mother to say he was already in Jacksonville! Today, I'd be frustrated as hell if he pulled that stunt - but then it was simply no big deal. I kept my eye on the prize and really wasn't worried about the details - even if my parents were.

On a Friday night, my mother put me on a Greyhound bus for an all-night ride to Jacksonville. I naively slept pretty much the whole way. Fortunately, my uncle was there to pick me up at the station - well at least Earl was. Ronald, who'd promised the trip and the ride, was a no-show.

Earl surprised me with an unexpected outing Saturday night. He took me to NWA wrasslin' at Jacksonville's Memorial Coliseum. He was very intellectual, college educated, informed of current events, opinionated, and a sports junkie. Professional wrestling, however, was kind of his soap opera or trashy novel vice. Unlike many who immersed themselves in it, he knew what was real vs. staged. Yet he still enjoyed and laughed heartily at the story lines. We got to see The American Dream Dusty Rhodes, Harley Race, and the largest man I've ever seen in my life - Andre The Giant.

Earl, my new aunt, Ronald, his girlfriend, and I left on a cold Sunday morning in the mid-size motorhome belonging to my aunt's father. I went to Florida thinking the weather was always warm. My long sleeve shirt, denim jacket and orange/blue Petty cap were about to be tested.

We were in front of Lake Lloyd without a really clear view of anything - not of the pits or of turns 3 and 4. I could barely see the start-finish line through the myriad of folks on top of their motorhomes. But we had a pretty good view of turns 1 and 2 before they thundered down the backstretch.

With the 43 starting 4th, that day-glo red and Petty blue Olds 442 popped from the starting grid whereas the gray pole-winning car of Buddy Baker was hard to spot anywhere on the track from where we were.

The King was competitive, and I remember shaking as he made lap after lap in the draft. Part of it was adrenaline - but I'm sure a lot of it was because the temps were dropping as a stiff wind intensified. But I simply could not believe it when Petty disappeared from the track.

I used a Winston AM radio headset back in the late 1980s and early 90s and have used a scanner since. Looking back, I find it funny I didn't have any sort of radio with me. I had no idea what happened to the 43. By the time the car disappeared, Ronald had already climbed down and disappeared into the motorhome. One reason was to warm himself from the weather. Another was to warm himself with a few nips from a bottle of Old No. 7! He had MRN on the radio, and that's where I learned 43 was done for the day after climbing down myself.

Yet the race continued, so I went back on top. After another dozen laps or so, the cold got the best of the rest of 'em. One by one - my aunt, Ronald's girlfriend, and then Earl - all retreated to the motorhome leaving me alone. I shivered with hands thrust in my pockets and collar upturned as a hedge against the wind. I know Buddy won, but I simply could not see that gray Olds cross the line.

The race is one of a few where I don't have a ticket stub. I think we just paid a flat fee or maybe a per head fee to get into the infield. But I did return home with a couple of collectibles:

a Daytona t-shirt that I wore until it was thread bare - well, actually until I piled on the freshman fifteen (and then some) in college. I'd hate to think what I'd look like if I tried to sport a shirt that small today.

a patch with the old DIS logo that I bought at Stuckey's on the way back to Jax. My mother stitched it plus multiple other racing patches to the back of that jean jacket I wore to the race.

a Richard Petty 'jersey' shirt. I happened to be wearing it later that spring when a few photos were taken for our high school yearbook.

I got to observe plenty of adult things from heavy drinking, hootin and hollerin, a portable hot tub even in the cold air, etc. (I wish it'd been much warmer to have my eyes opened by the bikinis that were certainly sported under heavy jackets.) But I remember thinking one of the neatest things I saw was this little custom roadster made to look like a Busch beer can.

Only recently did I learn the 1980 500 was likely the debut of the roadster. A couple of New Smyrna entrepreneurial designers built it. Later they contracted with Stroh's Brewing to build several as promotional cars.

Source: Daytona Beach Morning Journal

The arrangement between Ronald and my parents - written in sand I suppose - was for Ronald to drive me back to Tennessee on Monday. Schools may have been closed because of President's Day, or maybe I simply missed the day. Either way, I needed to be back in school on Tuesday.

But again, Ronald's plans were always fluid. Instead of driving me home, he decided he'd stay in Jax a few more days. So he bought me a one-way ticket on Eastern Airlines. At least he did park and wait with me at the gate until flight time. While waiting at our gate, he nudged me and said "Recognize those two?". I wasn't sure who he was referring to as I scanned around. Finally he pointed "Right there. It's Junior Johnson and Cale."

Suddenly it was an oh yeah! moment - yet I just sat there. I had the opportunity the meet Cale at my first Cup race at Nashville in 1978. But because he dominated for the win and because I'd drawn a bead on getting to the 43, I passed up my shot. In February 1980, I passed on the opportunity again. I still was no big fan of that 3x champion. I recall Ronald laughing as he said I may be taking my Petty loyalism a little too far.

TMC

As a native North Carolinian, Schaefer Hall of Fame co-founder Philly grew up going to races at tracks such as Rockingham, Wilkesboro, Martinsville, and Charlotte. He and I met when both of us were living in Chattanooga. In May 1994, he suggested we go to the 1994 Coca-Cola 600. Done, I'm in.

The two of us, our wives, and their eight-month old young'un loaded up in Philly's recently acquired green Pontiac Trans Port mini-van that looked like this one.

Our Friday destination was Matthews, NC to stay with Philly's in-laws. The weekend plans were for Philly and me to go racing and the ladies to shop, tour the area, or whatever people do to waste time when they aren't at a race.

Philly and I set our Saturday sights on the original Petty Museum in Level Cross. We then planned to return to Matthews to load up on tailgating food and beer supply. What we had not anticipated, however, was having a third wheel. Philly's better half said matter-of-factly "We'll have him on Sunday, so y'all get him on Saturday." With our marching orders in hand, we loaded up Woodhead and headed out for the day. After all, I've learned many racing weekends involve living in Plan B.

Woodhead had already been introduced to racing...sort of. The night he was born in The Nooga, I took him his first NASCAR t-shirt - a Dale Jarrett Interstate Batteries yute size. He traveled fine to Level Cross and tolerated us as we soaked in the Petty history displayed in the wood paneled, low ceiling museum.

When we made it back to Matthews, Woodhead was getting a bit fidgety. He'd ridden the better part of four hours strapped in his car seat after having ridden in it for several hours the day before. Yet, Philly and I were on a mission. We still had beer shopping to do.

Food Lion was our destination. They were still heavily involved as a sponsor in NASCAR, had supported Richard Petty's Fan Appreciation Tour in 1992, and was the last grocery store chain in North Carolina that sold Schaefer. We squeezed Woodhead into the kid's seat of the buggy and set sail.

Chips ✔
Loaf bread ✔
Pack of ham ✔
Private label cheese ... product ✔
Little Debbie's ✔

Up next, a careful examination of Food Lion's beer offerings. As we stood their pondering our options, each of the brands in the chiller seemed to holler Pick Me.

We were so engrossed in the process that we took our focus off the buggy behind us. Suddenly, we heard a muffled whoomp followed by crying. We wheeled around to find Woodhead laying atop our smashed loaf of bread and bags of crushed chips.

One thing was certain about Woodhead. That boy loved to eat. He was sizable enough at eight months that we were unable to buckle him into the buggy! Up until that moment, we'd done a yeoman's job of keeping our eye on him. Being distracted by beer, however, nearly cost us dearly. He could have just as easily flipped the other way and landed on the floor.

As Philly picked him to see that all was OK, we noticed a woman across the aisle giving us the stink eye and a tsk, tsk head shake. Choosing to make her opinion known, she stated directly "you put a mark on that boy, and y'all may as well not go home."

I'm pleased to say Woodhead survived his free fall into the grocery mosh pit. I'm also pleased to have seen him grow as a racing fan as well as one who appreciates Schaefer. And he's so smart Jenny. He was inducted into the Schaefer Ring of Honor in Daytona before the 2015 Coke Zero 400.

TMC

The 1979 NASCAR Winston Cup season was one for the ages. Richard Petty won his sixth Daytona 500 to end a losing streak that spanned a season and a half. The King then battled Darrell Waltrip for the top points position in the second half of the season, and he ultimately prevailed to claim his seventh title.

Waltrip and his Gatorade DiGard team did not hang their heads after losing the title to Petty. The 88 bunch came out of the chute hot in 1980 by winning the season-opening race in Riverside, CA and the third race of the year at Richmond - both from the pole. Buddy Baker's 1980 season also started off in grand fashion. After years of fast cars and frustrating luck, he finally won his prized race - the Daytona 500. As Waltrip had done, Baker won the 500 from the top starting spot.

With races on a road course, superspeedway, and half-mile short track in the books, the grind of the season moved to Rockingham for the annual Carolina 500.

As often seems to happens with NASCAR, the larger story of the race weekend happened off the track. When the teams rolled in to the North Carolina sandhills, many eyes turned to an unexpected team.

L.G. DeWitt was a long-time car owner. He fielded Chevrolets for Benny Parsons for most of the 1970s - including for Parson's Cup title in 1973 and Daytona 500 win in 1975. Second year driver and 1979 rookie-of-the-year runner-up, Joe Millikan returned as his driver in 1980. DeWitt also owned the tracks in Atlanta and Rockingham.

The garage buzzed when word got out that the FBI was investigating members of DeWitt's #72 race team for dealing in stolen cars. The seriousness of the allegations was magnified by the embarrassment of having the news released when DeWitt was hosting a race at his own track.

Credit: Spartanburg Herald-Journal

Though I'm uncertain how the allegations eventually played out, DeWitt's team was all but done. Millikan had a miserable finish at Daytona, flipped his car over the guard rail at Richmond, and lost an engine for a third consecutive poor finish at Rockingham. A few races later, the team folded leaving Millikan without a ride.

Source: Rockingham Speedway by Rick Houston and Bryan Hallman

Teams and fans also faced the news former driver Lee Roy Yarbrough had been committed to a mental institution. Yarbrough was a genuinely successful driver in the mid to late 1960s. A series of bad accidents in NASCAR and Indy cars shortened his career. Yarbrough likely suffered a series of serious concussions - and CTE likely followed. Around the time of the Daytona 500, Yarbrough tried to kill his mother and was declared incompetent by a court.

Credit: Spartanburg Herald-Journal

In qualifying, Darrell Waltrip had a ton of Robert Yates horsepower yet again. He won the pole - his third top spot in the first four races of the season. Despite the noise of the FBI investigation hanging in the air, Millikan put DeWitt's car on the outside of the front row.

Cale Yarborough puked a motor and wrecked his Junior Johnson-owned, Busch Beer-sponsored Chevy Monte Carlo during final practice before qualifying. Johnson rallied his guys to head back to the shop and return with the Olds 442 Cale had raced in the Daytona 500. Yarborough was unable to lay down a lap on the first of two days of qualifying. In the second round, however, he was the quickest car despite his concerns the Olds wouldn't hustle around The Rock as well as the Monte Carlo.

A third storyline involved the race itself. As noted on the program, the race was originally scheduled for March 2. After qualifying was completed, however, a winter weather system arrived. Snow and ice scuttled the plans of all to race for a week.

The race was delayed by a week though the line-up from qualifying was retained.

Credit: Spartanburg Herald-Journal

When the green flag fell, Waltrip set sail. He led 77 of the race's first 78 laps. After winning Daytona, Buddy Baker's Ranier Racing team skipped Richmond. Baker laid down a solid qualifying lap, started third, and led a chunk of 100+ laps after taking over the top spot from Waltrip. After giving up the lead to others, however, his day ended prematurely - as it often did in his career - when he skidded through a patch of oil and popped the wall.

Source: Decatur Daily Review

Yarborough didn't count himself among the favorites to win the race. His finishes in the first three races of 1980 were lousy - and he had wrecked his preferred Monte Carlo at Rockingham - and he had to start deep in the field - and he was nursing a leg injury after having been kicked by a calf before the Richmond race. Yet after Waltrip and Baker had their initial turns up front, Cale led significant chunks of laps during various points of the race.

The King was pretty sporty at one of his favorite tracks. Petty followed up his 1979 championship season with P3s at Riverside and Richmond. He had a lightning quick Olds at Daytona; however, a burned clutch ended his day with a DNF and rotten finish. With a little over 100 laps to go at Rockingham, Petty had worked himself up to the point as he pursued yet another Rockingham trophy.

Cale's #11 Olds, however, had a nose for the front. Despite his moaning about how the 442 would likely pale in comparison to his preferred Monte, Junior Johnson likely spent the second half of the race with a wry smirk on his face as he leaned on a jack.

Petty hounded Yarborough for much of the final 100 laps. He hit a slick spot of oil as Baker did, wiggled, recovered and continued. He didn't stick his 43 Chevy in the fence, but he did lose his momentum in birddogging Cale.

Source: Rockingham Speedway by Rick Houston and Bryan Hallman

Yarborough kept his foot to the floor and built a sizable enough lead that he was able to make his final pit stop without losing the lead. He cruised to a relatively comfortable win over second place Petty.

Speaking of Petty, the race was also the first Rockingham start for Kyle Petty. Kyle made his first five Cup starts in 1979 and had a disappointing 1980 Speedweeks. His Dodge Magnum was wiped out in a qualifying race wreck, and he DNQ'd for the Daytona 500. He qualified deep in the field at Rockingham, lost an engine, and returned to Level Cross with a poor finish. About a decade later, however, he and crew chief Gary Nelson (who coincidentally worked with Waltrip at DiGard) dominated the field for a win at The Rock.

Source: Greenville News

The race was the 29th of 31 times Petty and Yarborough finished in the top two spots.

Courtesy: NCMarrk on Twitter

TMC

Richard Petty ripped through the 1975 Cup season like a Ginsu knife through a mater. He nabbed 13 wins as well as his sixth championship. The Petty Enterprises / STP team had every reason to believe they'd keep the mojo rolling in 1976.

David Pearson notched 18 wins for the Wood Brothers' famed #21 team over the two-year stretch of 1973-1974. He only won three races, however, during 1975 in the Purolator Mercury. The team was ready to prove the single digit number of wins was an anomaly vs. the new norm.

Cale Yarborough began 1975 as his third season with Junior Johnson's Chevy team. Like Pearson, he bagged a double-digit number of wins in 1974 - but slipped to only three victories in 1975. Cale, Junior, and Herb Nab were ready for another shot at knocking King Richard off his throne in 1976.

The Winston Cup drivers rolled into North Wilkesboro in early April for the Gwyn Staley 400, the seventh race of the 1976 season.

Clearly, the story line of the season to-date was the amazing finish between Richard Petty and David Pearson in the Daytona 500. Pearson backed up his superspeedway Daytona win with two more victories at Riverside's road course and then at Atlanta.

The King rebounded nicely from Daytona. The crew thrashed on the wrecked 43, towed it to Rockingham two weeks later, and celebrated as Petty won the Carolina 500 in the rebuilt Dodge. Dave Marcis nabbed a win at Richmond, and Cale put a whuppin' on the field at Bristol.

Wilkesboro was slotted as the third short-track event in the first seven races of the season. The scarce number of short track races now compared to the abundance of them then has robbed today's fan base of some legendary racing facilities, rivalries, and driver skills.

Dave Marcis' #71 K&K Insurance, Harry Hyde-prepared Dodge Charger was fast in qualifying just as it was at Richmond. Marcis captured the top starting spot - his third pole of the season. Benny Parsons - who was born in Wilkes County, NC - qualified on the outside of the front row. Darrell Waltrip timed third, and Dick Brooks notched a surprising 4th in Junie Donlavey's Ford. Yarborough rounded out the top five starters.

On race day, a thunderstorm kept many folks in their cars and trucks until closer to race time. Once the weather moved to the east, folks headed for the gates. Track employees were stubbing tickets as quickly as they could. Assisting them was NASCAR's president, Bill France Jr. - on his birthday no less!

Prior to the start of the race, track officials recognized Wilkesboro legend, former driver, and car owner Junior Johnson by renaming a new section of backstretch grandstands in his honor.

Source: High Point Enterprise

Credit to & courtesy of Keith Hall

Petty started seventh in his rebuilt Dodge and was still sporting the beard he'd grown to commemorate America's bicentennial.

Credit: Mickey York

Parsons got a good jump at the green and led the first dozen laps. Yarborough then took the lead and dominated the rest of the way. He allowed Parsons to lead another dozen or so laps and spotted the 43 the lead for about a baker's dozen of his own. Otherwise, it was all Cale all day. He punished the field and won by a full lap over second place Petty.

The race was the 25th of 31 times Petty and Yarborough finished in the top two spots.

When Cup racing began its rapid ascent in the 1980s, North Wilkesboro expanded its seating. Fans continued sitting in the Junior Johnson Grandstand, but many more seat options became available. Then...racing was gone. The track has remained silent for 20+ years. It has deteriorated to the point of being an unusable facility - despite the cries from well-meaning and hopeless romantic fans that continue to proclaim "NASCAR ought to return to Wilkesboro!" A few years ago, the remnants of the Junior Johnson Grandstand were finally demolished - about 35 years after being named in his honor.

TMC

Schaefer Hall of Fame co-founder Philly and I made multiple efforts to attend the inaugural Brickyard 400 in 1994. Tickets were available of course, but at some ludicrous prices. We held our ground and refused to overpay. Result: We missed the show. Oh well, life goes on. And we did get to go to the second Brickyard in 1995 thanks to my brother-in-law taking care of us.

Three years later, a similar scenario arose. Bruton Smith's new Texas Motor Speedway scheduled its inaugural event for April 1997 - the Interstate Batteries 500. Again, Philly and I wanted to be there for Race #1. Unlike our failed Indy venture, however, the Texas trip played out perfectly. Well, it did for us - though not so much for many others, fans and competitors alike.

My sister and brother-in-law had relocated to Farmers Branch TX - a Dallas 'burb. As luck would have it, he wrangled tickets for all of us for the first event at the best price of all: FREE! Furthermore, he landed us suite passes for Saturday's Coca-Cola 300 Busch Series race (remember Bruton's praise-rant about Coke during his NASCAR HOF induction speech?).

Next challenge: getting there from Tennessee. I thought I'd won the lottery when I learned I'd been assigned a work project in Terrell, TX the week before the race. Only 50 miles or so lay between my work stint in Terrell and race weekend.

And it rained. Every. Stinkin'. Mile. Of my Friday drive to Farmers Branch. But I arrived! Philly landed at DFW the next morning, and race weekend was officially underway.

I've previously blogged about the start to race day by my brother-in-law as well as my pre-race lap adventure around TMS. A few other non-racing memories from that weekend still make me smile as I recall them.

My brother-in-law introduced us to Razoo's Cajun Cafe. Lawdy, did we put a dent in a monster-sized platter of fried seafood and hushpuppies. As we waited near the bar for a table, I spotted a couple wearing white golf shirts and white hats. Both simply had the NASCAR logo on them. I smiled, nodded, and asked "How are y'all? First race this weekend?" They were stunned a bit as they replied pleasantly "Yes! How did you know that?"

We had four suite passes for Saturday's Busch race - but also a stowaway: my niece. Upon arrival at the elevator, we were (rightfully) given the third degree about our passes, the need for a wristband, etc. The deal breaker was our fifth person. The cute smile and blond hair of a four-year old fortunately warmed the guy's heart; however, and he sent all five of us on our way.

The Busch race was the first time for Philly and me to watch one from a suite. We'd always wanted to do so, but once there we concluded it was too sterile of an environment for us. Plus our host booked it on the cheap. No munchies, sandwiches, or beer. Just a few meager Cokes and water. If for no other reason other than to have some fun at my brother-in-law's expense, we leaned on him. "C'mon man. Nothing to eat? And no beer?? Fix this mess." He asked around and returned with an answer that the catering fee for a case of beer was eighty dollars and a sandwich board two hundred bucks or something like that. We held his stare, said we didn't care, and to make it happen. To his credit, he got his host to pony up more from the marketing budget!

The track distributed rally towels for the Cup race. I still have mine, keep it in my race pack, and wave it often 20 years later at the races I attend.

Though we had a good time, fortunes weren't so great for some at the track. I cringed when I got word Thursday evening that Ricky Craven wrecked hard during a practice session. He destroyed his #25 Hendrick Motorsports Budweiser Chevy, and the wreck nearly destroyed him. Fortunately, Craven returned to race another day (and win). But by his own admission, his health today is very much affected by the wrecks of his racing career - perhaps most notably by his Texas lick.

Race day excitement in the Lone Star State was amp'd. Well, maybe except for many fans bitter about the transfer of a race date from North Wilkesboro to Texas...or those stuck in traffic or muddy parking lots. Nonetheless, the fans, drivers, Ken Squier, etc. were pumped about getting the 500 underway.

We were standing at our start-finish line seats and watched the field roar past the green as they barreled into turn one. And then what happens? The Big One. In the first turn of the first lap of the first race at a new track.

Johnny Benson got into Darrell Waltrip, and the rest of the field piled in like a game of Buck Buck by Fat Albert's friends.

In less than a quarter of a lap, all sorts of fan favorites were essentially done for the day. Both of the Petty cars driven by Kyle Petty and Bobby Hamilton: Involved. Both continued - but neither were a factor. And Darrell Waltrip's chrome-wrapped 25th Anniversary Western Auto Chevy returned to the garage looking like a ball of aluminum foil.

About fifteen laps later, NASCAR's Three Stooges of that era - Bobby Hillin Jr., Derrike Cope and Greg Sacks tangled in another turn 1 accident. All could just about be assured of being involved in an accident on a week-to-week basis. But I'm not sure you could've secured Vegas odds to have all three involved in the same wreck.

For those who made it beyond the lap one wreck, many found their way to the front. Lap bosses included Dale Jarrett, Jeff Gordon, and crowd favorite Terry Labonte. Others getting a shot at clean air included Bobby Labonte, Sterling Marlin, Ricky Rudd, and Todd Bodine who was hired as the substitute driver for Craven.

Just shy of halfway, Rusty Wallace lost the edge in his #2 Miller Lite Ford, hit the wall coming out of turn 4, and drifted slowly through the quad-oval frontstretch. Several other cars spun to avoid Wallace or because of the fluid from his car. Ernie Irvan - Swervin' Irvan - tried to bonsai his way through the accident in an effort to make up a lap by passing leader Terry Labonte. He instead drilled at full speed a slowing Greg Sacks - this after Sacks had returned from his earlier accident. Rather than getting a lap back, Irvan nearly found his engine block sitting in his lap.

Throughout the afternoon, a steady presence on the track was the #99 Exide Batteries Roush Ford of Jeff Burton. Crew chief Buddy Parrott tweaked the car and worked with the fourth-year Cup driver to set both up for the finish.

As the race entered its last 100 miles, the 99 got a nose for the front. Burton took the lead from Bodine (who *ahem* wrecked while leading) and led the rest of the way to notch his first career Cup win.

A 20+ minute recap of the race.

To date, the inaugural race is the only one I've attended at Texas. I genuinely want to return, but circumstances just haven't played out yet to do so.

Over 20 years, the track has had its share of storylines including:

opening weekend jitters with rain, parking, and traffic
the lap one wreck
a disagreement between drivers and the track's general manager Eddie Gossage that was humorously transferred to a Shut Up And Race t-shirt
a subsequent re-working of the track's configuration to blend the sharp transition angle at the apron, and
a controversially cancelled CART race in 2001.

Yet my memories of race weekend #1 are nothing but great. My hope is to again enjoy a second memorable experience down there. Meanwhile, I wish nothing but the best to Gossage and his team as they ready for another 20 years of racing.

TMC

NASCAR's 1976 Winston Cup season opened in January with the road course race in Riverside, California. Nashville Speedway's weekly series didn't kickstart its new year, however, until mid-April. The Winston Salute To America 200 was slotted for Saturday, April 17, 1976.

The race was sanctioned as a NASCAR national Late Model Sportsman division race. It was one of many during a pre-Busch Series era when national LMS points could be earned at tracks scattered all over the place.

The race attracted a few of the big dawgs of the day such as 1975 national LMS champ L.D. Ottinger, future Cup winner Neil Bonnett, Cup regular Donnie Allison, 1972-1974 NASCAR Late Model Sportsman champion Jack Ingram...

...and Midwestern hotshoe Bob Senneker. His car didn't exactly match the look and configuration of most LMS entries. But hey, he towed all the way from Michigan, was a proven winner in his area of the country, was making his first Fairgrounds start, and had a last name that rhymed with WINneker. So they let him race! OK, I made up that part about the rhyming name.

They were joined by local racers such as 1975 Nashville late model champion Walter Wallace, Alton Jones (who claimed the 1976 LMS track title), James Climer, and second year Nashville driver but first year LMS racer Mike Alexander.

The 200 was also a homecoming of sorts for Dave Sisco and Darrell Waltrip, two Cup drivers who were also Fairgrounds champions earlier in their careers. Waltrip's Nova carried the colors of his new new Cup sponsor, Gatorade. Nashville fans got their first opportunity to see the colors live on DW's late model. They saw them again about three weeks later when Waltrip raced his DiGard 88 Monte Carlo in the Music City 420 Cup race.

Four-time Fairgrounds champion and Cup regular Coo Coo Marlin did not enter the 200. However, he assisted the efforts of a rookie driver who prepared for his debut professional racing career start: his son Sterling.

Source: The Tennessean

Today's NASCAR fans can often be stereotyped as chronic whiners about everything - especially changes. Almost any change these days triggers a social media outcry. But one change in 1976 even had the competitors chirping.

NASCAR implemented a rule change for LMS teams at short tracks. Rather than using air guns, crews were required to use manual lug wrenches. NASCAR's position was the change would help level the playing field on pit road as well as reduce operating expenses a bit for the teams. The new rule, however, was met with almost universal derision.

Source: The Tennessean

Ottinger captured the pole in his #2 Chevelle. Senneker lined up alongside him in his interesting looking car. When the green flag fell, Ottinger got the hole shot and paced the field for the first 10 laps.

Allison then took the top spot and dragged the field around for the remainder of the first half of the race. Following the crossed-flags, Senneker decided it was go time. He took the lead, dominated the second half, and seemingly was on his way to the win.

Ottinger's luck went from good to bad to worse. After leading early, he faded back and lost a lap during a pit stop. With 30 laps to go, he pounded the wall as he tried to get back on the lead lap. He was able to continue, but then his fuel pump broke fifteen laps later. His wrecked ride caught fire, and he was finally and mercifully done for the night.

As the laps continued, Senneker built a sizable lead - even after late cautions resulting from Ottinger's incidents. His car developed an ignition issue with three laps to go, however, and he began slowly limping towards the finish. At first it was thought he may have been out of fuel; however, he later noted it was his electrical system that had simply laid down on him with victory in sight.

With Senneker's fade, Donnie Allison roared past him in his #8 Nova to claim the win. Allison sported 88 on his car to match the number he used to race in Cup. He was fired by DiGard in 1975 and replaced with Waltrip. Both showed up at Nashville with 88 on their cars. With Allison being a late entrant, his car was scored as the single-digit #8.

Ingram finished second, and Randy Tissot placed third. Former track champs Sisco and Waltrip rounded out the top five finishers. Sterling finished an admirable seventh in his first professional race. He continued having a pretty successful rookie year - including his first career Cup start in the Music City 420 less than a month after his late model debut. He banked several consistent runs his rookie season, built a solid fan following, and finally nabbed his first of many Nashville wins in June 1977.

Source: The Tennessean

Nearly 40 years later, Marlin's passion for racing still burns. Though no longer a Cup driver, he is a fixture at the Fairgrounds racing regularly in the once-a-month Pro Late Model division.

Special thanks to Russ Thompson for providing several photos and a few trivia nuggets for this post.

TMC

I started following Winston Cup racing in 1975. As I've blogged many times, I latched onto Richard Petty as my favorite driver. As my family and I started attending Saturday night races at Nashville Speedway, I assumed Petty would also win the Cup races at the Fairgounds. After all, the 43 had banked eight Nashville wins from 1964 through 1974.

In May 1975, Darrell Waltrip notched his first career Cup win on his home track in the Music City 420. Cale Yarborough dominated the Nashville 420 in July 1975 and won by a full lap over the second place finisher. The upside I suppose was that The King was the one who finished second.

The 1976 Music City 420 was the next opportunity for Petty to get back to his winning ways at Nashville.

The King had already experienced a topsy-turvy start to the season. He lost to David Pearson in the Daytona 500 in what was arguably the craziest NASCAR Cup finish in history. His team rallied two weeks later, however, to win the Carolina 500 at Rockingham. In other races leading into Nashville, the STP Dodge either went home with a top 5 or a DNF.

Source: The Tennessean

While I was personally interested in whether Petty would experience feast or famine in the 420, his up and down 1976 season wasn't the primary story line. Two others trumping it involved an old guy and an upstart.

The old guy was two-time NASCAR Grand National (and now NASCAR Hall of Famer) Buck Baker - father of perhaps his better known son, the late Buddy Baker. Buck won two titles in the 1950s and raced actively in the Grand National division through the mid 1960s. Over the next ten years, he only raced sporadically in NASCAR's Grand National, Grand Touring, and Grand National East divisions. He got the itch again in 1976 and started eight Cup events. Nashville was to be the third one of the season for him.

Source: The Tennessean

The young'un making headlines was Sterling Marlin, Coo Coo's boy. After making only four local late model sportsman starts - including the fourth one the night before the 420 - Sterling prepared to take over his dad's #14 Cunningham-Kelly Chevrolet to make his first career Cup start.

Benny Parsons won the pole, and Yarborough qualified alongside him. As noted earlier, Cale won the previous Nashville race and had already won at Bristol and North Wilkesboro prior to the 420. Dave Marcis, Bobby Allison and Buddy Baker rounded out the top five starters. Waltrip, the defending race champion, timed sixth, and Petty started seventh.

Both Buck and Sterling made the race, but neither had a desirable starting spot. Sterling laid down a solid lap in the first round of qualifying and would have started 12th had he kept it. He chose to try again the next day, however, and missed things badly. His inexperience and bad decision relegated him to a 30th place start - at the end of the field.

In the 1975 Nashville 420, Cale dominated by leading 385 laps. He was an even stingier lap bully in the 1976 Music City 420. He led 398 of the 420 laps leaving only crumbs for the others.

Sterling's Cup debut was short-lived. He lasted only 55 laps before the oil pump went out on his family Monte Carlo, and his first race ended with a DNF.

Buck did alright for the rusty, crusty ol' man that he was. He finished 16th in the 30-car field and was the highest finishing car still running at the end of the race.

As he had the previous July, Cale nabbed the money, trophy, and kiss. The win was also Cale's third in four short-track races of the season to date.

Also as happened the previous July, the King went to the next race with another second place finish. The race was the 22nd of thirty-one times that Petty and Cale finished in the top two spots. Considering the fortunes of his season, a P2 certainly outweighed a DNF. But after a 13-win season in 1975, Petty was expecting more Ws - as was I as a new fan!

Source: The Tennessean

Though some had concerns about Sterling's entry based on his truly limited experience, he handled himself well. He didn't make any notable bone-headed moves, and he wasn't a potential problem for the field after 50+ laps anyway. Marlin didn't become a Cup regular until 1983, but I'm sure he still recalls that first start at his home track.

Source: The Tennessean

TMC

The 1979 Cup season ranks comfortably in the top five of all-time memorable NASCAR seasons. The season began with a Waltrip win on Riverside's road course in January, and then the entire nation seemingly took notice of the legendary finish of the Daytona 500.

Through ten races of the season:

Richard Petty won the Daytona 500 for the sixth time and notched his fifteenth Martinsville victory in the Virginia 500.
Darrell Waltrip logged two wins, and Bobby Allison banked three.
Cale Yarborough won at Richmond after two rough finishes at Daytona and Rockingham.
Buddy Baker recovered from a disappointing Daytona finish with a win at Atlanta.
Rookie Dale Earnhardt picked up his first career Cup win in at Bristol.

A roadie, two superspeedways, three intermediates, and four short tracks to open the season. Ahhhhh.

After Bobby Allison captured his third win of the season at Talladega, the circuit headed to Nashville for the fifth short track race of the season.

After years of being known as Fairground Speedways and Nashville Speedway, the track was re-branded as Nashville International Raceway by the track's new leaseholders and promoters, Lanny Hester and Gary Baker. The wording choice perplexes me to this day because the only thing international about Nashville in 1979 was the house of pancakes near Vanderbilt.

The Winston 500 raced with a full field of 40 cars. By contrast, 28 drivers answered the call a week later to Gentlemen, Start Your Engines! in Nashville - the second lowest car count of the season.

One driver who raced at Talladega but opted not to race at Nashville was independent Coo Coo Marlin. Coo Coo was a four-time Nashville late model champion and had raced in all but two of Nashville's Cup races since his debut Cup event in 1966. (His son Sterling raced his dad's car in the two races Coo Coo didn't start.)

The new promoters implemented a change to charge crew members a pit entry fee - including Sterling's crew at a late model race a few weeks before the 420. Coo Coo fervently disagreed with the new policy, took a stand, and and refused to race at his home track.

Source: The Tennessean

Coo Coo was peeved, but another local driver was relieved. Steve Spencer, the track's 1977 late model sportsman division champion, got the opportunity to make his Cup debut on his home track. Owner/driver Henley Gray put Spencer in his car, and Steve did an admirable job in his debut by qualifying 15th and finishing 12th.

Source: The Tennessean

Spencer raced in seven more Cup events in his career, and he later became Sterling Marlin's personal pilot. His weekend was made a bit more memorable as he won the 50-lap late model feature following Friday night's first round of Cup qualifying.

Dale Earnhardt was already a raw but popular and promising rookie. He brought a fan base from both his father's legacy as well his late model experience on tracks in the Carolinas. (Hint to NASCAR: a return to supporting short track heroes will result in their bringing a fan base with them to trucks, Xfinity, and Cup.)

Earnhardt, however, was not the only promising rookie in the 1979 class. Other talents in what was arguably the most talented collective group of rookies in Cup history included Joe Millikan, Terry Labonte, and Harry Gant.

Joe Millikan had been tabbed as a Petty protégé. He grew up in Level Cross, worked for Petty Enterprises for the better part of ten years, and won Daytona and Talladega late model sportsman races in an STP sponsored Petty Dodge.

Millikan got his chance at the big time in 1979 by landing a ride with L.G. DeWitt whose team had won the 1973 title and 1975 Daytona 500 with Benny Parsons. Earnhardt nabbed a win at Bristol, but Millikan had been impressive as well in the early part of the season. His #72 Chevy unloaded quick off the truck, and Joe captured his first (and ultimately only) Busch pole award.

Source: The Tennessean

Flanking Millikan was Buddy Baker - an unusual qualifying spot for him on a short track. Baker was known as more of a superspeedway racer though he did win at Nashville in 1973 and Martinsville later in 1979. Waltrip, Cale, and the King rounded out the top five starters.

Cale and Bobby Allison tangled in February at Daytona, but they soon put the incident behind them. The fact both of them had wins on the ledger by the time Nashville rolled around likely helped ease things a bit.

Source: The Tennessean

Millikan leveraged his top starting spot when the green fell, and he led the first 31 laps. Unfortunately for him, that brief time out front was the highlight of his race. Engine woes forced him out of the race with a DNF after only 120+ laps.

Long-time independent driver J.D. McDuffie took the lead from Millikan on lap 32. J.D. had himself quite the career race that spring night in Nashville. Over the course of the race, he led 111 laps across the four times he found himself out front. The number of laps led was easily the highest he had in any of any of his 653 career starts by a factor of 10! Though he didn't win the race, he finished a solid 5th - his 12th and final career top 5.

Before McDuffie headed to the front, he tangled a bit with Yarborough. Cale lost a lap because of his spin, but he didn't hit the wall or otherwise damage his Olds 442. Adding insult to injury was a second spin in the first half of the race. But again, racing luck favored Cale as he managed to keep it out of the wall a second time.

Part of McDuffie's secret sauce was his McCreary tires vs. the Goodyears worn by other cars. His tires provided a speed advantage in the short run, but they had a tendency to fall off quicker later in a run.

The STP Monte Carlo was out front when McDuffie wasn't. Petty led a stretch of 100+ laps in the middle stages of the race. Knowing McDuffie's McCreary tires wouldn't last as long, the 43 seemed to be in good position to capture the trophy.

Because of his need for new tires, J.D. surrendered the lead to Petty with just under 150 laps to go. Petty led the next 61 laps before officially losing the lead to Yarborough in a controversial turn of events.

During his final stop, Petty got tangled up a bit on pit road with Benny Parsons in his #27 M.C. Anderson Chevy. The King did a half-spin on pit road and had to straighten up to complete his stop. But the Dale Inman-led crew completed their service and sent the King back on track as the leader.

NASCAR ruled, however, that Yarborough had unlapped himself and taken the lead from the King during the 43's pit road bobble. After the race, Petty insisted he had not lost the lead to Cale and believed he was the winner of the race. Bobby Allison - in a rare moment of unanimity with Petty - agreed Petty won with Allison as the second place finisher.

But...NASCAR maintained its position and insisted Cale had made up his lost laps, passed Petty, and led the remaining laps to the checkers. Yarborough returned to Timmonsville, SC with yet another Nashville trophy as Petty and Allison scratched their heads.

The win was Cale's third in a row at Nashville and seventh in a 13-race stretch. The race was also the 27th time Petty and Cale finished in the top two spots.

Source: The Tennessean

TMC

Dover opened in 1969 and hosted four Grand National / Winston Cup races in its first three years. Richard Petty won three of the four - including the first two, and Bobby Allison banked the 1971 Mason-Dixon 500.

The Cup regulars returned to Dover in June 1972 for the track's first of two races of the trimmed Winston Cup schedule. The Mason-Dixon 500 once again turned into a race between the two drivers who had claimed all of Dover's previous trophies.

Source: Motor Racing Programme Covers

With Harry Hyde as his crew chief, Bobby Isaac won the pole in the #71 K&K Insurance Dodge Charger. Fellow Bobby - the Allison one - qualified alongside Isaac in his #12 Coca-Cola Chevy.

Coo Coo Marlin lined-up third in his first ever Dover start. He actually laid down the same timed lap as Allison. Because Allison qualified first, however, Marlin was bumped back to the third starting spot. At the time, the fast lap became his top career starting position. He later qualified second at Talladega in 1976.

Allison won the 1971 Mason-Dixon 500 in a Holman Moody Ford. After several years of a strained business partnership, John Holman and Ralph Moody finally divorced at the end of 1971. Allison joined Richard Howard's Chevy team with its cars prepared by Junior Johnson. Moody joined Dover as a Vice President and assisted many drivers with set-ups for the race - primarily independents such as James Hylton, Soapy Castles, and British driver Jackie Oliver in Junie Donlavey's Ford.

Isaac capitalized on his top starting spot and led the first two laps. Allison took the lead on lap three, and the rest of the race was a duel between his Coke Machine and Petty's STP Plymouth.

Each driver led a chunk of laps before returning the lead to the other. As the race entered its final 100 laps, Petty was out front. On lap 416, however, Allison returned to the top spot. He remained there for the next 85 laps to take the win. The King developed transmission issues, lost a lap to Allison, but still managed to finish second.

Source: Spartanburg Herald

The race was the eleventh of 24 career times where Allison and Petty finished in the top two spots.

TMC

On Friday, June 30, Ryan McGee of ESPN noted 80 reasons to love Richard Petty. His 80 examples matched the King's 80th birthday to be celebrated on July 2nd.

I agree with all on McGee's list - and have had my own personal experiences with many of them. While I won't denote another 80 examples, I have outlined 43 additional reasons of my own.

My first time meeting the King and getting his autograph - July 1982 at Nashville's fairgrounds speedway

Learning through others that King has read many of my blog posts - primarily the series about his 200 wins
Having him tell me as much on the floor of Petty's Garage!
Allowing himself to put cool on the shelf long enough to ham it up with Tim Richmond

Stopping his van as he exited the track following the 1990 Firecracker 400 in Daytona to sign an autograph for my friend's nine year-old son. The kid recognized the van ahead of him and broke out in a sprint in an attempt to chase down the King. The 30+ year-old kid still has that autograph.
Stopping after the fall 2013 Dover race to sign an autograph for the kid of another friend of mine. Their family had flown from Australia to attend a few races and support Marcos Ambrose.
His 1980s Son of a Gun commercial - shoot da dash, shoot da tars

Letting the competition know his coolness would not be compromised on the track. His battle with Bobby Allison in 1972 at North Wilkesboro was epic, and 43 prevailed to notch P1.
Making bank by compromising a bit of cool to pose for an ad with Allison

Having enough coolness to meet with Allison, agree not to rough each other up any more, and to park their so-called feud while at its peak.
Calling out Dale Earnhardt after getting wrecked in the 1986 Southern 500 (13:30 mark)

Telling Ned Jarrett that he planned to keep on winning after capturing his 7th Daytona 500 in 1981. (2:00:00 mark)

Having my pic made by the STP Dodge for the first time in 1978 at Nashville

Having him spend a few minutes with me most recently at Phoenix in November 2013 and chatting about the old days

Bailing on a scheduled interview with Jim Rome and explaining later that he had something else to do during the original date and time
Flying to Vietnam to visit US troops right after winning the 1971 Winston Cup title
Making it possible for others in his family to race: Kyle Petty, Ritchie Petty, Mark Petty, Adam Petty, Austin Petty, and Thad Moffitt
Making a D.K. Ulrich car look cool in 1986

Mayonnaise sandwiches

“I remember when I was 6 or 7 years old,” said Kyle recently. “Daddy would have been 26 or 27 and in his prime. He would go to work in the morning at the shop near the house, come home and have a mayonnaise sandwich with pepper.

“If you don’t know, daddy’s mayonnaise sandwich with pepper was two pieces of bread with mayonnaise. He put mass quantities of pepper on the bread, put the slices back together and ate it.

“Then, daddy drank a big old glass of milk. When he ran out of milk, he’d bang the glass on the table which meant (for mom to) fill it up again,” Kyle said. “Then dad would get up and lay in the floor face first. He just laid out - feet out - and laid there resting his eyes for about five hours.

“Everybody else would be over at the shop working. They’d come and wake daddy up and he’d go back to the shop for about an hour. Then he’d come home, eat supper and sit in a chair watching TV until about 12:20 or 1 o’clock.

“Daddy would get up about 7 and go back and do the same thing,” said Kyle. “Every day the man ate a mayonnaise sandwich, and I know the man’s won a million races and done all this great stuff for the fans. But just think of what he could’ve done if he had worked whole days all his life instead of half-days.” ~ Asheville Citizen-Times – June 14, 1992

Being invited to the grand opening of the current Petty Museum - where I also got to trade stories about being a Petty fan with the aforementioned Ryan McGee

Listening to King tell the story of driving the family race car as a teenager to the only GN race held in Corbin, Kentucky because his dad, Lee, was arriving from another track
Having my uncle and aunt name my cousin Richard based on their King fandom
Having my bud name his son Richard Lee for the same reason - and then being at Dover in 2011 for his first Cup race

Winning the only NASCAR Grand National / Cup race sponsored by Schaefer beer

My getting to hold the Schaefer 300 winner's trophy 40+ years later

Having King autograph our Schaefer Hall of Fame 20th Anniversary banner in Dover.

Having an uncle care enough to mail me my first Petty postcard in the mid 1970s - and I still have it

Exiting the 43 early in a Riverside race because of an injury and then coolly delivering TV commentary

Respecting everyone. King is equally cool with kids, fat dudes, fans of other drivers, hot chicks, grammaws, celebs, politicians, athletes, common folks, etc.
My bicycle that I converted from a yellow bike with a red banana seat to a Petty Blue, motocross bike.

An interview with David Letterman following his spectacular wreck in the 1988 Daytona 500

The Hat - The combo day-glo red (e.g. orange) and blue panel hat was a universal sign of being a Petty fan in the 70s and 80s. I had two of them - one of Richard and one of Kyle. Wish I still did.

Being more concerned about who took his boots than a destroyed race car after nearly wiping himself out at Darlington in 1970.

The silhouette profile logo

Seeing the joy on his face when the 43 returned to victory lane at Phoenix in 1996 with Bobby Hamilton aboard. About 10 years later, my son and I were able to stand by the winning car at Hamilton's shop.

Wearing snakeskin cowboy boots to meet President Ronald Reagan

The super cool, logo'd Petty Enterprises hauler unveiled in the early 1980s. It was among the first of its kind and established a new trend towards the modern, luxury transporters.

Rejecting doctor's advice for additional rest after having overdue surgery for stomach ulcers. A few weeks after the surgery, he won his sixth Daytona 500.
The way he pronounces Pontiac: Pony-ack
His driving a bulldozer in February 1988 as part of the ceremonial ground breaking for the new 3/4 mile Richmond Raceway. One week earlier, he endured a spectacular crash in the Daytona 500.

Having the local volunteer fire department number their station after the King's famous car number.

His service to his community and the nation - including his participation in the Hayride 500, a 1986 drought relief program to transport hay from Ohio to North Carolina.

All the friendships and relationships I've developed through being a Petty fan for 43 years.

TMC

From 1975 through its final Cup race in 1984, Nashville's fairgrounds speedway was slotted as the next race following Daytona's Firecracker 400. The drivers went from the 2-1/2 mile superspeedway to the 5/8 mile, 18-degree banked short track in middle Tennessee. Coincidentally, the two tracks opened within about six months of one another - Nashville in August 1958 and Daytona in February 1959.

The 1975 edition of the Nashville 420 was slated for July 19th - about 2 weeks after the Firecracker and a bit of a season's breather for the teams.

Richard Petty was The Man in 1975. He had won 8 of the season's first 16 races - including the race before Nashville, the Firecracker 400. The King hit on one streak where the STP Dodge won five of 7 races, including three in a row.

Cale Yarbough started the season in a bit of a bind. His Junior Johnson-owned team had split sponsors in 1974. The first half of the season had been sponsored by Kar-Kare, and the #11 Chevy carried the colors of Carling Black Label in the second half.

Carling was gone when the calendar turned to 1975, however, and the team had no replacement sponsor. To save costs, the team skipped the season opening race at Riverside.

When Yarborough's team arrived in Daytona, the car's official photo was made with prior year colors and no sponsor name on the side. A last minute, one-race deal with Valvoline provided Johnson's team with a few dollars to pay the tire bill, but the team's financial - and winning - challenges continued.

Johnson finally landed a sponsor in the spring. The company was in his own back yard and had backed him a few times in his own driving days: Holly Farms Chicken.The Kar-Kare / Carling red was painted over with solid white, and a handful of Holly Farms emblems were affixed to the hood and sides.

Many of today's fans are baffled by many of NASCAR's rules, penalties, and its decision-making process in general - and rightfully so. While many are more aware of the sanctioning body's oddities in today's era because of the size of racing, social media, etc., NASCAR certainly had plenty of quirks back in the day to make one scratch his head.

NASCAR struggled to draw full fields for its races in 1975. One reason: lack of sufficient team sponsorships. Two: woeful track purses. So what was NASCAR's decision when one sponsor offered to sweeten the purse - even if it may have benefited the sponsor's own driver? Read on in this excerpt from the July 9, 1975 edition of The Tennessean.

NASCAR has turned down an offer by the STP Corporation to donate additional prize money to the first Dodge to finish in next Saturday’s Nashville 420.

The offer was intended to help Richard Petty, an STP-sponsored driver, reach the $2 million plateau in career winnings. Petty, who needs $10,172 to break the $2 million barrier, is one of only five Dodge drivers who generally make the 40-car lineup for Grand National races.

The winner’s share of the Nashville 420 is $6,085. Petty, however, can take no more than $5,485 as $600 of the total purse is posted by STP, and Petty’s earnings from the sponsoring corporation cannot be counted in his official winnings.

Yesterday’s offer of $5,000 in additional prize money to the highest finishing Dodge driver was flatly rejected by NASCAR. Lin Kuchler, Executive Vice President of the governing body, told Nashville Speedway promoter Bill Donoho permission for such an offer would be granting special favors to the Dodge drivers.

“They said they would not permit STP to boost the prize money, so it looks like Petty won’t have a chance to win his $2 million on this track,” said Donoho. Petty will likely reach the $2 million mark in the Aug. 3 Pocono 500, next stop on the Grand National circuit after Nashville.

Ironically, Petty narrowly missed another milestone on the local track as the first driver to win $1 million in 1971. Petty won the Nashville 420 that year but left town still $2,357 short of the $1 million mark. And now again it appears Petty is going to just miss making racing history on the local track.

When the teams arrived in Nashville, Junior Johnson had added a bit of burnt orange to the hood, trunk deck, and hood of the 11. Cale also had a Monte Carlo at his disposal vs the Chevy S3 he raced on the superspeedways. The Monte became his go-to car for him as well as many others through 1980.

With his new colors, Cale and Junior were ready to get back the mojo they had for much 1974. Among their wins during the previous season was a controversial one in the Nashville 420. So the duo looked forward to repeating in 1975.

Another driver who planned to keep both Petty and Yarborough at bay was Darrell Waltrip. With a career still teetering between potential and a busted bank account, Waltrip still had his confidence. He was a two-time late model sportsman champion at Nashville and had 50+ victories at the fairgrounds. He also captured his first career Cup victory earlier in 1975 in Nashville's Music City 420.

Benny Parsons won the pole on Friday night, July 18th. Waltrip lined up alongside him. Yarborough, Petty, and Dave Marcis rounded out the top five starters.

Starting shotgun on the field in a car fielded by Bobby Allison was Neil Bonnett in only his third Cup start and his first one on a short track. Bonnett was no stranger to Nashville though. He had raced several time previously at the fairgrounds - including a win in a 100-lap late model race about a month before the Nashville 420.

Allison wasn't entered in the 420. He was in Michigan for the USAC Norton Twin 200, a twin bill of stock car and Indy car races. He raced his famed AMC Matador in the stock car race a Roger Penske McLaren in the Indy car headliner.

Though night races are now a common part of the Cup schedule, that wasn't the case in the 1970s. Even Bristol didn't host its first night race until 1978. Throughout the 1970s, the only track to host two scheduled night races was Nashville.

But Mother Nature screwed with Nashville's scheduling in 1975. Rather than race on a dark, hot, muggy, summer evening, the teams returned to race on a Sunday afternoon. They then got to race on a bright, hot, muggy, summer day.

Source: The Tennessean

When the green fell on Sunday, Waltrip got an early jump on pole-winner Parsons. Ol' DW - then a young pup - led the first 18 laps before losing a transmission and heading to the garage.

With Waltrip's exit, Yarborough took over the lead and picked up where he'd left off at Nashville the previous summer. Cale put his #11 in the wind and for the most part didn't look back.

The only wreck in the race happened at lap 30 when two Tennesseans tangled, Coo Coo Marlin of Columbia and Grant Adcox of Chattanooga.

Another caution fell just past lap 300 that must have caused Cale's stomach to lurch into his throat. Two-time Nashville track champ and Cup indepenendent David Sisco, lost his car off turn four and looped it down the front straightaway. To avoid clobbering Sisco, Yarborough looped his car right at the starter's stand.

With a lap lead over second place Petty, however, Cale never lost his top spot. He righted his car, got a fresh set of tires, re-entered the fray, and continued on another 100+ laps to capture his second consecutive Nashville 420.

The race was the 19th of 31 times Petty and Yarborough finished in the top two spots. Bonnett had a solid day. He rallied from his 30th and dead-last starting spot to finish 14th.

By finishing second, Petty still wouldn't have cleared the $2 million career earnings mark even if the STP incentive money had been allowed. It seems to me NASCAR was more in-the-way than necessary for a local track promoter's effort to draw attention to a race. But it wasn't the first time such a decision was made - and it certainly wasn't the last.

Yarborough celebrated in victory lane with multiple Miss Winstons - along with 18 year-old Sterling Marlin who photobombed the photo shoot while clinging to a fence post.

Credit: Marchman Family Collection

Source: The Tennessean

TMC

The recently released 2018 Cup schedule included no new tracks; however, a few races were moved around during the calendar and from one track to another. One notable change was the movement of the Chicagoland race from the first race of the playoffs to July 1, a week before Daytona's summer race.

Soon after the announcement, fans began to chirp about how hot it's expected to be in Joliet on a July day. Seriously.

Genuinely hot races of NASCAR's salad days included the daytime Firecracker 400 at Daytona, the Talladega 500 in July and August, and Atlanta's Dixie 500 before it was moved to November. One such Dixie 500 was held on July 23, 1972.

Source: Motor Racing Programme Covers

The 1972 season was the second one sponsored as the Winston Cup Series by R.J. Reynolds but the first with a significantly reduced schedule. Throughout the 1950s and 1960s, the length of NASCAR's Grand National division schedules ranged from 45 to 60+ races. With RJR coming aboard, the schedule was trimmed to 31 races in 1972.

The season was largely controlled by three drivers: Richard Petty and Bobby Allison in full-time efforts and David Pearson in an abbreviated schedule with the Wood Brothers. Petty was the two-time defending winner of the Dixie 500 in 1970 and 1971, and Allison won the Atlanta 500 earlier in the season.

A few days before the race, Petty joked with a few writers by reminding them to tell fans not to forget their blankets for the race. Blankets in July? "They're not for the temperature. But folks might want to throw a blanket over the finish. That's how close things are."

Pearson captured the pole - his second in seven starts with the Woods. Bobby Isaac qualified alongside him in the #71 K&K Insurance, Harry Hyde-prepared Dodge Charger. Allison, Coo Coo Marlin, and Petty rounded out the top five starters.

On Saturday night before Sunday's race, the track hosted a country music concert. Ferlin Huskey, Ray Price, Don Gibson, Donna Fargo, and fellow racer Marty Robbins entertained the fans and apparently a few drivers in a matinee and an evening show.

Everyone deals with heat and humidity in their own way. Independent, life-of-the-party driver Joe Frasson handled the southern, summer climate by downing beer poured into his hat!

Donnie Allison raced a few times for Bud Moore in 1972 - the ride Pearson vacated after two starts earlier in the year before joining the Wood Brothers. For most of the 1970s and into the early 80s, Bud's #15 Fords were always plain white. In 1972, however, he painted them butterscotch yellow.

The race was highly competitive throughout its first half. The top five starters along with Donnie Allison and a couple of others swapped the lead regularly. No lead lasted longer than a single-digit number of laps other than two segments when Pearson held serve for 47 and 13 laps, respectively.

In the middle stages of the race, Pearson put his #21 Mercury into the wind and decided to keep it there. Whereas the first part of the race saw many lead changes, the middle third saw Pearson pull the field around Atlanta lap after lap after lap. He was seeking his first Atlanta win since the 1961 Dixie 400, his third career victory.

Around lap 230, the skies could no longer hold the mugginess of the day. Showers arrived, and a yellow flag flew for the damp track. Today's crew chiefs have all sorts of weather technology at their disposal. In 1972, however, teams had to survey the skies and read the winds. Glen and Leonard Wood believed plenty of rain was on the way, the race would soon be called, and Pearson would be declared the winner.

As a result, the Woods chose not to have Pearson pit. The Junior Johnson and Dale Inman led teams of Allison and Petty believed otherwise. Both were called to pit road.

Sure enough, the rain was short-lived. With one to go before returning to green, Pearson was called to pit road after all. He got fresh tires and a load of fuel, but he lost a lot of track position.

Allison took off with Petty in pursuit. Pearson was about a half-lap behind the duo after his team's weather gamble failed to pay off. With a quarter of the race left to go and still some uncertainty about the weather, Pearson picked up his pace. But in doing so, he burned a valve in his Mercury's engine. Down on power, he cruised the rest of the race. He still managed a third place finish albeit three laps down to the winner.

Petty was a three-time winner of the Dixie 500 - all in a Plymouth. He was looking for his first Atlanta win after Petty Enterprises converted to Mopar's Dodge brand. But Allison had the mojo in his Coca-Cola Machine.

The #12 Chevrolet stretched the lead over Petty's Dodge and led 90 of the race's remaining 92 laps. Allison took a comfortable win over second place Petty - the only two cars on the lead lap at the finish.

The win was Allison's third in a row after having won at Trenton Speedway and Bristol. He also swept Atlanta's races in 1972. The race was the 13th of 24 times Petty and Allison were the top two finishers.

Source: Free Lance Star via Google News Archive

TMC

TMC Racing Stories: Loudon 1

TMC Racing Stories: Nashville 1

TMC Racing Stories: Daytona 2

TMC Racing Stores: Bristol 1

February 8, 1964 - Another Petty Daytona win

TMC Racing Stories: The Horseshoe Lounge 1.0

TMC Racing Stories: My Significant Other

TMC Racing Stories: The Horseshoe Lounge 2.0

TMC Racing Stories: Daytona 3

TMC Racing Stories: Charlotte 1

March 9, 1980 - Rockingham's Carolina 500

April 4, 1976 - Gwyn Staley 400

April 6, 1997 - Texas Motor Speedway Arrives Alive

April 17, 1976 - Nashville's new season begins

May 8, 1976 - Music City USA 420

May 12, 1979 - Sun-Drop Music City 420

June 4, 1972 - Mason-Dixon 500

43 More Reasons to Dig Richard Petty

July 20, 1975 - Nashville 420

July 23, 1972 - Dixie 500