As we view the current fare on weekly television,
we see NASCAR, CART and IRL at one of the Taj Mahals that seats over one hundred
thousand fans, who travel many miles and pay the big bucks to witness the event.
While these races are loaded with much hoop-la and pomp, they represent
only the major league of auto racing. Just
like the highly paid ball players, who ply their trade in major arenas, these
drivers have reached the pinnacle of their sport.
For every major league ball player, there are
hundreds laboring at some anonymous stadium in a sleepy little burg, hoping for
an opportunity to perform in one of the spatial ballparks.
It is the same situation with racers.
You will find some dusty little track in many a small town, where the
local folks gather on Saturday night to watch their neighbors, co-workers,
friends and relatives, compete against each other in a minor league form of auto
racing. Often the stadium is a
local fairgrounds, where an old horse track has been converted to accommodate
automobiles. The track may be a
dirt surface or asphalt and the grandstands may be concrete, metal or
splintering old boards. At times
the lighting and sound are substandard, but for the fans, they can see their
favorite and they root for him to succeed.
Tracks use varying promotional tactics to entice
the fans to attend on a regular basis. Many
local merchants donate services or merchandise to be offered to a fan holding
the lucky ticket. A winner may get
two free dinners at Mary Ann’s Café or an oil change at the Texaco station.
The tracks help to build the togetherness of the community, by
encouraging involvement by the merchants and support from the fans for the
participating businesses. Announcers
at these venues are classics. They
tell cornball jokes, pass on a little local gossip and try to keep the fans
informed of the race lineups. Taped
interviews with the local stars may be offered for the crowd’s entertainment.
The quality of the racecars can be primitive, but
this is the backbone of the sport and this is where all the skillful crew-chiefs
you see on TV, learned their innovated techniques.
Generally, competitors are fairly new at the sport and their racecars are
quite crude. It doesn’t matter
for the most part as they are racing against others with equal equipment.
There will be several levels of cars, with each
step up, involving drivers, who are more competent and equipment, which is more
refined. Usually, the lowest class
is a Street Stock, which is pretty much a stock car off the street, with the
necessary safety requirements installed. Next,
you’ll find what is referred to as a Mini-Stock, Pony Stock or possibly
Foreign Stock. These are generally smaller cars with four cylinder engines.
Different associations may allow some modifications to enhance
performance. Most tracks now have a
popular class, which combines a stock car with open wheel characteristics, which
are called Modifieds. Modifications to the chassis and engines are allowed, but
some may have a claiming rule on the engines, to deter competitors from
investing large sums of money into their racers.
The top level of stock cars is usually called Late Models or Sportsman
cars. This is where the journeyman
drivers compete for larger purses and the cars have a special built chassis and
racing engines.
Some of the more ambitious tracks offer open wheel
racing with Midgets or Sprint cars. Since
this style of racecar is more expensive to build and operate, they must race
where they can have a purse that will support the class.
Most of these small tracks can only seat about two
thousand fans, who pay anywhere from six to ten dollars to view the races.
Open wheel admissions are usually about twelve to fifteen dollars, to
accommodate the higher purse structures.
In the stands, you’ll find Mom and Dad, the
sweetheart or wife and the kids, supporting their hero.
Quite often, some of the sponsors are in the crowd to see how well their
banner carrier represents them. There
will be a group, who came to watch a fellow worker make a fool of himself.
Many young couples are attending, since the drive-in closed and one young
man watches attentively and has designs on racing a street stock, if his
girlfriend approves.
The track concessions offer the regular fare of
hot dogs and sodas, while some now offer pizza, nachos and other specialties.
Most have a beer stand and some have ice cream and pretzels.
You won’t see the buffets, wine and cheese found in the corporate
suites at the Sunday showcase tracks. I
have also been to tracks, where the concession stand was merely an ice chest.
Since these racers are serving an apprenticeship,
they begin racing only for trophies and bragging rights.
As they become more successful, they move into classes that pay a race
purse and may have some sort of a point fund.
If one of these drivers is interviewed, you won’t hear the PR diatribe,
which spills from the mouths of the Sunday Big Show racers.
For them, sponsorship comes from auto parts store, gas station or pizza
parlor, where they get a discount on merchandise.
Many drivers have dreams of being a regular on the
big-time circuit some day and most will never make it, just like many minor
league ball players. These are guys, who prefer to race, rather than go hunting or
fishing, join a bowling league or play a round of golf on the weekend.
Some may have competed with motorcycles or go-karts as kids and now that
they have settled down with homes and families, they get the itch to once again
race.
As you travel around the country, be alert for a
Saturday night show in some small town. Though
the tracks may be somewhat rustic, many are quite professional.
If you have time, check into the local motel and take in a race. You may be treated to some of the best racing you’ve ever
seen. There are hundreds of tracks
and thousands of drivers, who are out for a night of recreation.
Many a night, I have sat on a folded blanket over a wooden bench, in both
bone chilling cold or on a hot and dusty night and enjoyed some real grassroots
racing. No matter where the track,
they always have enthusiastic racers.
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