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Traditional Sprint Car FanSite |
See You At The Races!!! |
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BLUE COLLAR RACER by Norm Bogan |
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Television exposure has led us to believe that
auto racing is a very lucrative profession.
In Formula One, Michael Schumacher made about $30 Million per
year and the racers at Indianapolis collected maybe $50,000 for last
place. On Monday you
read in the morning newspaper that a Nextel Cup warrior has picked
up $16,000 for finishing 30th in the Sunday feature. Lets investigate a little further. Michael Schumacher was an exception, winning seven
championships and next to sainthood with the Ferrari team.
Most Formula One competitors are justly rewarded, but nowhere
near what Michael was paid. Most
drivers collect about 40-50% of their listed winnings.
A number of the racers actually make more from endorsements
than they do in winnings. But,
of course, if you don’t win on Sunday, you aren’t called for
endorsements on Monday. Performance
drives the market. Now lets get back to reality at your local
Speedrome on Saturday night. The
above salaries are something these racers can only dream about.
The majority chooses to race rather than going fishing or
playing golf on Sunday with the guys.
Many struggle to make ends meet and after paying the
mortgage, making the trip to the orthodontist with the kids and
purchasing a new washing machine, they feel blessed to be able to
purchase a new right rear tire for the racecar. A number of these competitors are successful
business people, who apply the same principles to operating a race
team as they do with their enterprise.
They may own a store in town or practice one of the trades
offered to remodel your home. Others
might be employed in some governmental capacity, be it city, county,
state or federal. How
about the guy who is a supervisor at the local factory or maybe the
local constable who finds that high speed chases on the highway
don’t hold a candle to Saturday night at the old quarter-mile dirt
track. Look around the pits and you notice many open trailers carrying one car proudly emblazoned with name of his sponsors, which is often the owner/driver. No eighteen-wheelers at this venue, loaded with backup cars, it was a thrash for our driver to get his only car together. Look at the grandstands and you may see the
driver’s wife and kids, his brother-in-law, an old high school
buddy and a couple of guys from work, all rooting for their hero.
There is no wine and cheese section for snooty celebrities or
corporate suites to keep them cool on a muggy summer night and away
from any possible dust and bugs. Often the pit crews are some of the fans listed
above, who could afford to pay for their own pit pass or maybe the
teenaged son of the driver or a couple of kids from down the block,
who think it is pretty cool to be wrenching for the next Jeff
Gordon. Many times in
the background is an older gentleman, referred to as Dad, who could
never realize his dream of racing, but lives vicariously through his
son each week. Look at the racecars, which may be some form of
stock car, modified racer or an open wheel machine.
A few are masterpieces of construction, usually owned by the
more seasoned and successful teams.
Other cars are best the owner/driver could afford and reflect
the talent of the team with how well they are built. Talking with nearly every driver, he will
relate that if they had just been able to get a new tire this week,
they could have won. Others
will say they finally found the problem and should be able to claim
victory next race, but alas, victory never comes.
They toil on with a dream and the quest to reach a pinnacle
at their level. A more recent dilemma occurred when members of
the distaff set decided they could probably drive those cars better
than the boys. In
addition, Dad in the background didn’t want any snot-nosed kids
messing with his baby girl, which is compounded when she beats the
field of aggressive guys. Who needs Daytona, Le Mans, Indianapolis or
Monte Carlo? Just look
as far as the local racetrack and go see the real racers and real
people. You can even go into the pits after the races and they are
thrilled that you want to talk with them, without having an attorney
present with a number of disclaimers and a PR representative,
playing the puppeteer, mouthing the answers for their driver. Saturday night at the local fairgrounds track
with it splintery bleacher seats, dust and exotic aromas from the
racing machines is where the real action is happening.
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