TMC Racing Stories: Charlotte 1

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 there 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

Racing's Home Tracks: Part 2 of a IV-part Trilogy

NASCAR's insistence everyone have a "home track" has metastasized into a full-blown epidemic.

After bringing awareness of this crisis to the masses two weeks ago, I wanted to continue with many more cringe-worthy examples.

During the recent Save Mart 300 in California, we were led to believe by PRN Radio and FoxSports1 on-air folks that at least four drivers claimed Sonoma as their home track. Though to be fair, the persistent matching of Cup drivers ... and teams ... and sponsors ... and manufacturers ... to a home track isn't limited to just PRN and FOX.

We were told Jeff Gordon began his racing career at Sonoma - despite having moved to Indiana when he was 14 years old.

The Dinger - A.J. Allmendinger - obviously claims Sonoma as his home track.

Never mind his home town of Los Gatos, California is 90 miles away.

Sophomore Cup and Target Racing driver, Kyle Larson, also claims Sonoma as his home track...allegedly.

I guess it's irrelevant his home track before making the transition to NASCAR was Calistoga Speedway.

Oh. Wait. Maybe it's Silver Dollar Speedway in Chico, California.

Finally, Target Racing's former driver (and current GEICO discounted participant), Casey Mears, has claimed Sonoma as his home track...

...when he wasn't claiming Auto Club Speedway in Fontana as his home track.

Mears isn't the only driver confused about his home track - nor the only Chip Ganassi Racing driver to be confused. Nashville's Fairgrounds Speedway was (and still is) indeed the home track for two-time Daytona 500 winner, Sterling Marlin. After all, he was a multi-time track champion at Nashville, made his first Cup start there, piled up tons of late model wins, helped his dad Coo Coo Marlin at the track, etc. He was able to make the transition to Cup after cutting his teeth at Nashville, and he continues to race at Nashville.

But Nashville fell off the Cup schedule after 1984. No problem. Sterling was assigned Bristol as his replacement home track. The facts of (1) his never running a weekly series at the track and (2) the 5+ hour driving distance from his home made little difference to the PR folks.

The city of Chicago was poetically labeled by Carl Sandburg as The City of the Big Shoulders. That statement needs to be true to hold aloft the legacy of all the drivers who claim Chicagoland Speedway as their home track - regardless that it isn't for any of them. (The fact Chicagoland isn't even in Chicago is a different thought altogether.)

Future NASCAR Hall of Famer (tongue deeply in cheek), Danica Patrick, is originally from Roscoe, Illinois - 2 hours from Joliet, IL. Such the sweetie, she kindly adopted Chicagoland as her home track as if it were a puppy.

Danica has long since left Roscoe, and apparently now calls Scottsdale, Arizona home. I think. Regardless, Phoenix International Raceway is now her home track - simply because she bought some real estate nearby.

Paul Menard's home track is the Milwaukee Mile in his home state of Wisconsin.

Whoa, easy there you wild and crazy guy. Milwaukee isn't on NASCAR's Cup schedule and never has been. You should know better than that. Looks like his PR team learned that factoid, and NardBurns was assigned Chicagoland as his true home track.

The roots of Venturini Motorsports go back to the 1950s. The team's drivers have been stalwarts of the ARCA circuit for decades. So where is its home track? Chicagoland of course - the track that opened in 2001.

Whew, time for a sanity break.

I've never a particularly big fan of Jamie McMurray. Haven't jeered him - I just haven't pulled for him either. Normally my response to him during driver intros is a tepid ehhh. But I may now become a Big Mc fan. Jamie recognizes just because he IS from Missouri doesn't mean Kansas Speedway is his home track. Kudos Jamie, well done.

But just because Jamie Mc gets it doesn't mean others do. Let's continue...

Yuengling, the country's oldest brewery, has only been involved with NASCAR since 2014. Yet, the beer - BEER! - has a home track.

Hell, not only is it absurd for a beer to have a home track, Yuengling isn't even the original beer sponsor at Pocono. What brand was? Oh yes: Schaefer.

Speaking of a sponsor for Ty Dillon, he let loose an eye-rolling whopper in 2014 by stating Atlanta Motor Speedway is his second home track. 

Why? Because he went to AMS as a kid and it's "so close to my house in North Carolina." The distance between Atlanta and Dillon's NC home is approximately 350 miles. Ty, you were so close in your estimate of distance...or not.

The absurdity continues with this beauty from Auto Club Speedway. They announced themselves as the home track for Rusty Wallace's driving school. That "news" was about as goofy as Rusty posing as an analyst on ESPN broadcasts and MRN Radio.

Sticking with the southern California track, ACS is always stated by the lemmings as the home track for Toyota. TRD builds engines nearby, crates them, and then ships them to North Carolina.

This news asserts Martinsville Speedway was former driver Jeff Burton's home track. Burton and his brother Ward are from South Boston, Virginia. Early in their racing careers, both ran the half-mile South Boston Speedway regularly. South Boston still hosts races today. From 1960 through 1971, 10 10 Grand National / Cup races were held at the track. Until 2000, least one Busch ... errr, Xfinity Series race each year was scheduled at South Boston. Jeff raced in eight of those events and could rightfully have called South Boston his home track - but not Martinsville.

I'll close with a Triple Crown of head-scratching, home track, hilarity courtesy of Chevrolet.

The brand has been involved with racing for decades. Drivers from coast to coast and north to south have raced a Bowtie. Yet, Chevy itself has a home track? Sure, why not. And where else would it be but Michigan International Speedway.

Wait - we talkin' NASCAR or Indy car? Indy? Oh then I'm sure Chevy meant that other Michigan track - the Raceway at Belle Isle. Yes, the track where CART hosted races beginning way back in ... well, not that far back ... in 1992.

And to reinforce Chevrolet's enduring love for its home track, it has yet a third one - the Indianapolis Motor Speedway.

TMC

Before The Bristol Trophy

Since 1983, the Bristol Cup winner has been awarded an awesome, big-honkin’ trophy. 4-1/2 feet tall, pewter, winged angels, ornamented. Before Bristol winners started hoisting it, however, the trophy was presented elsewhere.

Before the Bristol dominator of the 1980s, Mr. Boogity x3...

Before Rowdy, the current conqueror of Bristol...

Before Jeff Burton whose 2008 win led a top 3 sweep by RCR cars when the efforts of three Joe Gibbs Racing cars came off the rails with just a few laps remaining...

Even before Ricky Bobby in Talladega Nights (the movie that should have received an Academy Award in the category of Greatest Movie Ever Made)...

Before the rise of the Wonder Boy...

Before Cuzzin...

Before a driver who is genuinely Happy...

And before one who fakes his happiness...

Before Texas Terry following his legendary win in the '95 Bristol night race...

And before the Intimidator who rattled Terry's cage a couple of years later...

Yep, before any of these superstars earned the coveted trophy for grinding it out on the Bristol bull-ring, Ol' TMC was part of an effort to bank one.

The McGavock High School Marching Raiders band was awarded the same trophy in October 1979 as the grand champion of the Music City Invitational competition in Nashville, Tennessee. We earned it a second time in October 1982.

TMC in his uniform as Drum Cap'n

So I was involved in the collective efforts to win this great trophy before any NASCAR driver. As you'll notice in the photo, we also earned another trophy - the Governor's Cup - for being the top band in the state of Tennessee those years. These trophies came with a trade-off though. While I got to hold the Governor's Cup, NASCAR winners got to squeeze up to Miss Winston Cup, Miss Nextel Cup, and Miss Sprint Cup. Oh well...

TMC

NASCAR in Vegas - Sunday

After a Saturday evening (and lengthy portion of Sunday early morn) of Vegas activities, we headed to the track for the main event: The Shelby American Sprint Cup race.

This was my first NASCAR race to attend where the race name didn't include a number - whether it be laps, miles, or kilometers. From the time Watkins Glen returned to the schedule in the 1980s, their race name has always been "[Sponsor X] at the Glen". But I've never been there (though I want to go).

Last year's race was the Shelby 427 I think - named for a Ford engine. This year's race was just the Shelby American. By dropping the number, NASCAR and the speedway kind of hid the fact from everyone the race distance in 2010 was shorter than in 2009.

It was just as well because the race was boring enough with the length they ran. With the way Jeff Gordon stunk up the show, I would have been OK with them calling it The Shelby Delaware and running a 25 lap heat race.

Our plans were to arrive at the track bright and early to tailgate with other fans. That's our M.O. at just about every other race we attend. But our M.O. also includes packing the coolers the night before, loading the truck, and hitting the rack at a reasonable hour - three things we didn't do on this trip.

As a result, we got a late jump towards the track and were greeted with the inevitable volume of race traffic - many folks who most likely were out until the same hour as us.

At many other tracks I've attended, most of the parking isn't controlled by the track. Entrepreneurs and volunteers often staff pastures, small businesses, and roadside shoulders selling parking for $10 - $20 per vehicle. However, Vegas controls its own lots (from all that we could see), and there was zero charge for it. Props to Bruton Smith for that decision!

Once we parked, I reached for the cooler. My head and stomach said "no" but my heart and race tradition screamed "Yes!". A couple parked next to us were from Reno, but they were originally from New Jersey.

When she saw me pull the Schaefer sign from the trunk, she said "Shayfa? That's a northern beeah. I haven't seen a Shayfa beeah in yee-uhs." When I retrieved four of them from the cooler for all of us to share, she exclaimed "OH MAH GAHD, it really IS a Shayfa!" She quickly started drinking it and then laughing between sips like a teenager sneaking her first brew and wondering if she'd get caught. We had her autograph our Schaefer Ring of Honor sign.

After sharing one with our new friends, I retrieved a second Schaefer to drink as we walked and packed two more in my gear bag to smuggle into the track. Knowing this would likely be my only visit to a Vegas race, I wanted to have one in the parking lot AND another as the race itself began.

After a night of Vegas, though, neither of us were moving too quickly. The first Schaef went down better than I thought it would. The second one was a major challenge as we walked. Because outside beverages can't be (legally) brought into the track, we had to finish it off before entering. Whether it was the beer getting a bit warmer or the fact I was running on 7 cylinders I don't know, but that final 2 ounces was some of the roughest beer I've ever had the displeasure of consuming.

We got to our seats in the Richard Petty Terrace just as the command of "Gentlemen start your engines!" was given. Unlike Saturday, the weather was perfect. Clear, blue skies - warm temps - a nice breeze - and an incredible mountain vista in the background of the track.

The view behind turn 2:

The view behind turn 3:

I settled in and turned on my scanner to listen to PRN, A.J. Allmendinger, Tony Stewart and a handful of other drivers with reputations of chatting a bunch - either with legit information about the car or with colorful descriptors about the day's events. Once those engines fired and my head started to pound though, I was kind of wanting to find a frequency streaming some relaxing Miles Davis jazz.

The race itself? Terrible. One of the worst I've attended. Jeff Gordon jumped out front, stayed there, and built a monstrous lead. Everyone else soon dropped in single file and stretched around the track.

Kasey Kahne had a reasonable day for Richard Petty Motorsports and finished 9th.

A.J. Allmendinger's weekend pretty much stunk from the time they unloaded the 43 until they put it back on the hauler. At least his car looked cool in the Valvoline retro-look.

Here he is behind the pace car - before they gave him the wave-around to make up a lap. Sadly, this was as close as A.J. would get to sniffing the lead.

After the pot hole incident in Daytona, NASCAR surely wanted to put that incident to rest. Instead, two races later Vegas had not one - but two - cautions for a faulty caution light. I'm not sure now well it was explained on TV. From what we could tell, the race had a caution, followed by a green, followed by an immediate caution again because the yellow light never went off and the green on (forgive the fractured grammar - it was tough to watch and understand much less explain). This happened twice. Bizarre.

The Kim Kardashian-sponsored car driven by Mike Bliss didn't run too many laps before Bliss scrubbed the wall. This prompted the PRN Radio announcer to re-name the sponsor Kim Carcrashian.

The only real excitement of the race (other than the little catfight between the two Chip-N-Dale, Inc. drivers) came with less than 40 laps to go when the final pit stops took place. We decided we wanted to be near victory lane regardless of who the winner would be. So it was off to the Neon Garage where we watched the final 20 laps and the quickly-settled battle between Hendrick teammates Jeff Gordon and Jimmie Johnson.

It was a conundrum for me. I really enjoy seeing Jeff Gordon lose, but I've equally tired of seeing Jimmie Johnson win- particularly at those races I've been fortunate enough to attend. Yet, you can't help but give kudos to the 48 team. Jimmie may well have to end his career before I begrudgingly give him his due. But Chad Knaus? I'm ready right now to say he is indeed amongst the top 5 crew chiefs of all time and maybe the best ever.

Even with a ton of people already surrounding victory lane, we surprisingly were able to stake a pretty good position along the rail in the upstairs concourse overlooking the ceremonies. I had a birds' eye view of the #48 as Jimmie did a screamer between the barricades to victory lane.

After the "hat dance" and tons of press pictures taken, Jimmie quickly moved to his left to join Speed TV's Victory Lane show with John Roberts, Kyle Petty, and Kenny Wallace. We moved along as well. I was able to snap this pic of Kyle using his cell phone to take a pic of Jimmie. Great timing on my part because Kyle then tweeted that very picture.

Source: @kylepetty on Twitter with his Tweetphoto

Once the victory lane hullabaloo wound down, we made a final trip around the Neon Garage. Here's a view of the start/finish line of an emptying track:

Four Richard Petty Motorsports haulers:

Finally, we exited through the infield tunnel and headed lazily towards the parking lot. Along the way, we were passed by several haulers getting ready for the long trip home. Among them were rigs for Montoya, Newman, Elliott Sadler, and Kasey Kahne.

It took us a good long while to find our car. If I could make a recommendation to the track, it would be to install reference markers. All the lots look the same - they are all flat and covered in fine rock. For a while, I thought we were going to face the daytime version of the nighttime car search two days earlier when the Pontiac was hauled away. After roaming around a bit aimlessly for a while, I thought about changing my nickname from toomuchcountry to Moses because it felt like we'd been wandering the desert for 40 years.

But shortly thereafter we found it. The race had been over for about 90 minutes, but traffic was still at a standstill. It made no sense to force the issue. We still had iced Schaefer in the trunk, and I had my iPod with a Vegas-tailored playlist of tunes. So we popped one, queued the tunes, and spent time lounging on the hood and in the front seat with eyes partially closed waiting for the right opportunity to head back to the hotel.

From there, it was time to clean up and head back ... somewhere. Following a shower and change of clothes, we decided the excitement of Vegas had taken its toll on us. We ate dinner at the Luxor and went to Paris to meet a fellow Allmendinger fan. (Read her blog about her Vegas experiences as well and follow her on Twitter @dingerworld. She's been a race fan for a long time, but she was a race rookie and a Vegas rookie and had a great time too.)

Beyond stepping out for those new happenings, we opted out of further yada yada yada as we had a plane to catch on Monday. All good things must come to an end.

TMC