Aug. 27, 2007 — Getting Down And Dirty

I’m not complaining, not really. I guess I’ve accepted that sometimes when you go dirt track racing you’re going to get dirty. Notice I didn’t say dusty; this track had no dust that I could see, but rather a fine grit that was churned up by the race cars. It wasn’t visible in the air, but when the cars took the green I could feel it blowing against my face.

Do I wish it could be different? Absolutely. I don’t like getting that dirty. I don’t like that a fine brown coating of dirt always forms in the seat of my car, just days after I’ve cleaned it out. I don’t like taking a shower at 1:30 a.m., but you don’t dare get into bed wearing all that silt.

But despite all that, many of the really great races I see these days are on dirt tracks. And I’m willing to pay the price of getting dirty in order to see good racing.

It’s obvious that most mainstream people don’t share my passion. For example, my neighbor isn’t at all a race fan. If I were to take him to certain tracks where I know the dust will billow under the lights, at the end of the night he’d be spitting mud-balls and asking me in amazement why in the world I would subject myself to this. And what can I say? Nobody likes getting filthy dirty, but sometimes it just comes with the territory.

Maybe we’re like football fans in the northern climate. If you watch a Green Bay Packers home game in December, it might be 15 degrees outside. Yet the stadium is packed with hard-core Packer fans, bundled up and sipping warming fluid, totally into their game. Why would you sit outside in December in Wisconsin, or Chicago, or Buffalo? Because you love your team, and you wear the hardship like a badge of honor.

If you do the racing deal long enough, you begin to figure out which tracks will most likely cover you with dirt. You start watching the direction of the wind, and try to situate yourself upwind from the track. Or, frankly, you simply find a different track to visit. After all, some track prep guys have apparently figured out how to keep more of the dirt on the track, because there are many tracks where it’s quite rare to see dust or dirt flying.

A few years ago Humpy Wheeler (the head of Lowe’s Motor Speedway and a very smart man in terms of racing promotion) said that the growth of dirt track racing was being inhibited because mainstream people don’t like getting dirty. I’ll bet he’s right. But until somebody can figure out how to give me thrilling, three-wide, slam-bang, photo-finish racing without the dirt in my face, I guess I’ll just take that shower at 1:30 a.m. and be happy about it.

As for now, I’ve got to go…I have to wash and vacuum my car!

Aug. 20, 2007 — Authoring, Publishing Not Always Easy

I might have mentioned here earlier that I recently released a book with Doug Wolfgang, the former sprint-car great. I’ve been very fortunate over the past few years to team up with some truly interesting people to help them with their autobiography, including Brad Doty, Jack Hewitt, Earl Baltes, Chris Economaki, and now Doug. Each person and project was quite unique and thoroughly enjoyable, although writing and publishing a book is a very challenging endeavor.

When you begin the project you’re all fired up, and that sustains you for quite a while. After a few months the going gets tough, because you feel like progress is unbearably slow. I’ve described it as being in the middle of a desert, with no sign of civilization in sight. You have to have faith that if you keep plodding forward, you’ll eventually get to the other side, no matter how distant and hopeless it seems. It’s a lonely life, but I guess the emotional rewards help you forget all the hard work because when you release the book you’re usually anxious to begin your next project.

Over the past few weeks I’ve been asked many times about my next project. Lots of people have offered suggestions, many of which are quite interesting. At this point I’m not sure exactly what I’ll do, but it’s fun to think about the possibilities.

One thing that’s very hard as an author/publisher is that it doesn’t take long for the harsh realities of the business world to become quite clear. I’ve always been involved in publishing my books, partly because I’m a control nut and partly because it satisfies my entrepreneurial urge. Publishing a book is a major financial risk, with significant up-front costs and no guarantee that anyone will buy it. I make my living as a writer, so my family’s income is directly tied to how well a book performs in the marketplace. If I produce a book that is a critical success but only sells 500 copies, I’m going to be doing the “Welcome to Wal-Mart!” thing much earlier than I had planned.

The painful reality is that not everyone is a viable candidate for a profitable book. Yes, you can write the book and get it published, but the market for that book might be limited and therefore can’t cover the costs of production and printing. That’s okay if you’re publishing it as a labor of love, or as a tribute to someone special. But if you’re trying to pay the bills, it’s very tough. And when you also consider the fact that the writer often invests 12 to 24 months of work into the project, it’s easy to understand why niche books are a very tricky and challenging endeavor. And the fact remains, all racing books are niche books, whether we like to admit it or not.

There are countless racers near and dear to us who have enjoyed great careers, but that doesn’t mean their autobiography would be a viable project. The longer someone is away from the limelight, for example, the more difficult it is to promote and market a book on their life. Or maybe that person had a big following, but only in a regional market. All of these things have to be considered when you contemplate a book project.

That’s what makes it difficult: You love these guys, and while YOU would gladly buy a book on their life, maybe there simply isn’t enough of a market. Sometimes that leads to bruised egos, but it’s just a fact of life. Actually, I use myself as a great example: Which would be more interesting, my autobiography or somebody like Steve Kinser or Bentley Warren? Obviously, those guys have led far more colorful lives than me, and have 1,000 times the name recognition I do. I long ago accepted that reality, and it isn’t that my story might not be worth telling, it’s just that I have to be realistic that the market for my story is a fraction of what those two guys—or many other prominent people—would be.

There is also the fact that each story needs some kind of angle to set it apart and make it especially interesting. For example, Jack Hewitt was more than just a guy who won a lot of races; it was his straight-talking style, his charisma, and his over-the-top personality that made him a cult hero. Lots of guys win races, but few people really capture the public’s imagination like Jack did. And capturing the reader’s imagination is a huge factor in how interested the public is in that person’s story.

More than anything else, I’ve been greatly encouraged that more and more people seem to be reading about racing. When I wrote Brad Doty’s autobiography in 1999, many of my friends gently cautioned me that “racers don’t read” and that I would probably not sell very many books. Maybe I was just blind and dumb, but I honestly believed that if you present people with an interesting topic and work hard to write in an engaging, personal style, they might be willing to give you a try. And I can’t tell you the number of people who told me after Brad’s book was published that they liked it, and “it’s the first book I’ve read since high school!” That’s probably been the most rewarding aspect of being a racing author; the realization that maybe you’re providing some pleasure and enjoyment in the form of a book, even for people who don’t necessarily do much reading.

So now I’m hoping to take a couple of weeks off — well, now, wait a minute, I’m helping Pat Sullivan publish a beautiful biography of the late racer Joie Ray, so I guess I can’t take any time off after all. At any rate, it won’t be long before I get busy with my next book. I wish it only took six weeks to write a book; but for whatever reason it seems to take me about 12 to 15 months with each title. Based on all the great book ideas all my friends have given me in recent weeks, I’d better get busy!

And for all of you who have read my books, I offer one simple and heartfelt word: Thanks.

Aug. 13, 2007 — Accessibility Is Key

One of the things I most enjoy about short track racing is the fact that the competitors remain easily accessible. At nearly every event you can easily approach the top stars as well as the guys just starting out.

Naturally, this is helpful to a media guy like me. But it’s about much more than simply getting an easy interview; the fact is, I don’t think I’d enjoy racing nearly so much without the opportunity to get to know some fascinating people over the years. It’s hard to get to know people—I mean really get to know them—if you have to navigate through a layer of insulation. Unfortunately, that’s often where PR people fit in.

Now, hold on, PR reps…before you fire off your angry e-mails, this isn’t meant as a bash. I get along great with PR folks and I think most would say I’m not at all difficult to work with.

Here’s the deal: I completely understand that Jeff Gordon needs somebody to help him deal with the overwhelming number of interview requests he receives. Somebody has to sort through the inquiries and separate the New York Times from the Perkinsville Daily Shopper, and make sure he’s investing his time wisely to get the biggest bang for the buck. But short track racing hasn’t yet reached that level of intensity, or at least I don’t think it has.

This isn’t to say that there isn’t a place for PR people here. Quite the contrary, if you consider the PR person’s primary mission: To help generate positive coverage of the racer and her sponsors. From my standpoint as a writer or broadcaster, a competent PR person is a great asset, because they can help me quickly find information I need, whether that’s in the form of an interview or a press kit or whatever.

In that role, short-track racing needs MORE PR people. But if adding PR people into the mix means we begin to lose our up-close access to the racers, it’s not something I’m looking forward to.

For example, this past weekend at Knoxville Raceway a prominent sprint car racer was approached by a television station from Des Moines. They asked for an interview early in the evening, and the guy blew them off because they didn’t go through his PR person to arrange the interview in advance. (I’m not naming the racer because I didn’t see this first-hand; however, it comes from a good authority, and my instinct is that there is something to it.)

This makes me very sad. In a era in which short track racing desperately craves mainstream media coverage, this is an example of simply not being very smart.

Frankly, a lot of racers simply don’t like doing interviews. I suspect they sometimes hire PR people—particularly at the short track level—not really to help them increase their media presence, but to help shield them from interviews.

Most media professionals are respectful of each situation, and try to be realistic with interview requests. If a guy is 15 minutes away from the biggest race of his life, that’s not the time to inquire about his favorite food or ask him to reminisce about his first race win.

Some might argue that it’s just too difficult for the racer to focus on the business at hand if he’s got to deal with a nosy writer poking around asking questions. But you know what? Think back 20 years, and see if Steve Kinser, Sammy Swindell, or Doug Wolfgang had a PR person at the track. Or Rich Vogler, or Pancho Carter, or Gary Bettenhausen, or Bobby Grim. It seems as though they managed to deal with the situation quite nicely, thank you.

I guess it just worries me when I see people trying to take short track racing to the same level as Nextel Cup in terms of isolating the racers from the rest of the world. If this is what they mean when they talk about the next level, no thanks! I like it just the way it is right now.

Aug. 6, 2007 — Nothing Like Knoxville

Nationals keep on making a lot of memories.

This week marks the annual Knoxville Nationals (okay, the official name is the SuperClean Knoxville Nationals), and my trip out “west” to Iowa. I’ve been making the drive to the quiet town of Knoxville for 15 years now, and with each visit I’m reminded why I like racing so much.

Race fans fill the town of 7,500 to the point of bursting, and there is a prevailing sense of excitement and anticipation. If there is criminal activity here this week it’s certainly well-hidden; my guess is that it involves only a miniscule percentage of these 30,000 spectators and racers, as race people tend to be about the most upright people you’ll find. Even though things can seem hot and crowded, there is little tension or aggravation. Everybody seems happy and excited, which is very cool.

Lots of people ask why I drive instead of fly. By the time I drive to the Indy airport, make a connection in either St. Louis/Chicago/Minneapolis, pick up the rental car, and drive from Des Moines to Knoxville, I’ve invested almost as much time as it takes to drive. Plus, I haven’t yet had my drive home complicated by bad weather, cancelled flights, or the many dramas of modern commercial air travel. Plus, when you factor in the wonderful experience of being viewed as a suspected terrorist because you tried to get through the security checkpoint with more than three ounces of sunscreen — God forbid you try to bring a highly-dangerous bottle of water on board—it all makes the 430-mile drive look easy.

Knoxville is involved in one of the very few regrets in my life. I grew up as an ardent race fan, but within a very small circle. Living in the Anderson, Ind. area, I knew only of races in my immediate vicinity, such as Anderson Speedway (Sun Valley at that time), Mt. Lawn, Muncie Motor Speedway, Winchester, Salem, Kokomo, and Lawrenceburg. It wasn’t until I was in my early 20’s that I discovered NSSN, and not long after that I was thrilled to see a brand new publication devoted to sprint cars and midgets called Open Wheel Magazine.

That’s when I discovered Knoxville, and the Nationals. It all seemed to be a world away; in those days a two-hour ride to the track was considered a major trip. I finally made the trip to Knoxville in 1992, and immediately realized this was short track racing at an entirely new level.

One of my first thoughts was…“What have I been waiting for all these years!” I was kicking myself, because Knoxville wasn’t nearly as far away as I had imagined. I could envision myself as a teen-aged high-school graduate, coming out here on the cheap and sleeping in my car. Hey, when you’re a kid, who cares about roughing it? I could have seen Opperman and Gaines, Kenny Weld, Wolfgang’s first win, on and on. So much drama, and I missed it!

But, nothing I can do about that now. All I can do is enjoy each visit, which I do. Very much. There is the scintillating drama of the event itself, which is reason enough to come. But the ambiance, the aura, the tradition of the entire scene is the real magic behind the Nationals. The massive grandstands filled to capacity with loud, passionate fans; the wonderful rolling hills of the Iowa countryside; steak sandwiches at the Cattlemen’s tent, and the pork chop sandwiches at the Pork Producer’s feed; endless souvenir booths and the trade show in the barn; crossing paths with a host of friends that you only see once each year; the pie at the stand next to the Natl. Sprint Car Hall of Fame & Museum; and the sleepy summer dust that hangs in the air at the campground, where folks sit and visit before and after the races in front of musty pup tents and glitzy motor coaches.

It’s funny, though…what used to seem like a relaxing trip now seems awfully busy. I’m involved in the telecast of the event (seen live on Speed Channel this Saturday night at 10 p.m. eastern), which means lots of pre-race work and preparation. And tension, too; no matter how many times you face the camera, you need some nervous tension to keep your energy level where it needs to be. But even outside the Speed TV work, there is always something going on. Book signings (this year with Doug Wolfgang on Thursday and Saturday), luncheons, tracking down a friend or chasing some detail or chore; you feel yourself being pulled in many different directions and sometimes it’s hard to keep from being overwhelmed.

But I always make time for a few rituals. Each year NSSN Senior Editor Mike Kerchner and I visit the Cattlemen or the Pork Producers (well, not both on the same night) for a sandwich and an ear of sweet corn, and no amount of being busy is going to make us miss our relaxing dinner under the tent. Another ritual is to drive north of town to Udders Steakhouse with Ralph Sheheen, and it’s great to have a few minutes to catch up over a nice meal.

Last year, I brought my bicycle along, and it opened up a completely new realm. After the races I enjoy riding throughout the fairgrounds and surrounding area, because it’s amazing how many more friends you cross paths with when you’re more mobile. Plus, there is no better way to take in the wonderful atmosphere of a great event than right there at street level.

The Knoxville Nationals…there really isn’t anything quite like it! Hope to see you there!