When little Spencer Roy was 6, he wanted a tattoo. Not one of those temporary Cracker Jack ones. No, he asked for a real tattoo – needles in flesh. A Tony Stewart tattoo.
That was, of course, out of the question. There are laws. But the boy’s mom, Stephanie, had an idea. She watched every NASCAR race at home with Spencer, and Tony was her driver, too. Mother and son named their cat, “Tony Stewart.” The family’s pet fish is “Tony Stewart.” Step out of their shower, and your wet feet meet a Tony Stewart bath mat. You don’t have to be a mentalist to guess Stephanie’s computer password. Then there are the Tony Stewart cars and cups and flags and stickers throughout the house.
Considering the various and sundry ways the Tony Stewart name infests the Roy’s home, the idea of branding a family member’s skin “Tony Stewart” wasn’t so outlandish. Maybe Stephanie, as an agent representing the Roy clan, would get the tattoo.
A race was coming up a Martinsville, Virginia, Stephanie’s home track. The Roanoke mom knew Tony would be doing an autograph session in the Salem Civic Center. She showed up, inched to the front of the line, and offered her bicep. This wasn’t the first time Stewart had been asked to sign a body part. He laid pen to flesh with big, confident strokes – a John Hancock with verve and flourish, the kind of assuredly bold signature you’d expect from a driver Stephanie and Spencer love because “he will move your butt out of the way or put you into the wall if he has to.”
Stephanie found a phone book and a tattoo parlor. For forty bucks and a little bit of sting she could again show how far she’d go for the boy suffering a serious heart condition who she loves so much. It took about 20 minutes to make Tony’s signature permanent. Stephanie had to keep hitting the brakes she was driving so fast to get home. Little Spencer was just tickled pink. To this day, he’ll gleefully lift his mom’s shirt sleeve to show total strangers the tattoo of the only driver in NASCAR who matters.
Six years later at Richmond International Speedway, courtesy of “Make A Wish,” a wonderful organization helping children with life-threatening medical conditions, Spencer got his chance to meet the driver on his mother’s arm.
Tony Stewart met Spencer and Stephanie Roy at his motor coach in the drivers and owners lot before September’s Chevy Rock and Roll 400 race. Stephanie came prepared with orange fingernails with jet black tips and the number “20” etched on. Stewart showed up wearing his orange fire suit and a big smile. He greeted Spencer with a fist bump and began to treat the boy like a long-lost friend.
Spencer flipped his program open to Tony’s page, pointing to his man.
“Who’s that goofy guy?” Tony asked. “You picked the ugliest guy in the whole book!”
Spencer laughed and turned to another photo of Tony.
“You’re laughing, but I don’t get better looking in any of these photos, do I?” he asked. “No wonder I don’t have a girlfriend.”
Stewart spent 15 minutes making Spencer crack up while signing a heap of paraphernalia handed over with assembly-line precision by his PR man Mike Arning.
Bad weather was headed for Virginia as tropical storm Hannah moved in. The 37-year-old two time NASCAR Sprint Cup Series champion did a rain dance jig, attempting to ward off the precipitation so Spencer Roy would be able to see his first NASCAR race. Stewart promised the boy if he won the race, and he had every intention of doing so, he’d climb the fence at Richmond just for him. Together, they’d celebrate in Victory Lane.
A hospitality tour was waiting. Stewart’s PR man motioned to the group, reminding the driver of obligations backing up. Stewart said goodbye to Spencer, then found a way to kick start a conversation he didn’t want to end. The cycle of attempted goodbyes followed by more joking repeated itself a few times. Finally, after a series of high-fives, it was time to go.
“Remember: after the race, Victory Lane,” Stewart said as he walked away.
Spencer and Stephanie had seats directly in front of the No. 20 pit stall. Spencer was physically in Virginia but more accurately in heaven, throwing up his hand every time Tony’s race car flew went by.
The boy had been a NASCAR fan almost his entire life, and only had two drivers. First was Ernie Ervan, known to some as “Swervin’ Ervan, the driver of Philip and Georgia Gregware, who lived above the Roys and took care of Spencer for several years when Stephanie worked weekends. Phil’s nickname was “Curly,” but before Spencer could talk, he couldn’t say that. He just called Phil “Ernie.”
When the real Ernie retired from NASCAR in 1999, Spencer immediately switched allegiances to Tony Stewart. The boy’s medical condition, Prolong QT and mydocardial disease of the muscles, makes comprehending complex things difficult. While traditional learning – the Pythagorean theorum and the Magna Carta, and the arcane a + b = c equations and historical events each of us suffered through and mostly forgot – is difficult, Spencer has strong intuition and is sharp as a tack. Watching the races on TV with the Gregwares (every Sunday the families would share a home-cooked meal and the race), Spencer would pick his own driver. Spencer liked Tony Stewart’s personality, his driving style, everything about the guy.
After adopting Tony as his driver, he’d followed him on TV for years. Now he was at the track in Richmond, watching this momentous freight train of race cars zooming by, close enough to make his wheel chair shake. It felt to Spencer like the whole earth could be thrown off its axis. Could goose bumps have goose bumps on top?
Spencer wanted Tony to lead the pack. He was rooting hard, encouraging Tony to go faster and faster as the laps ticked off. Stewart had a solid car and was running up front. He was in contention. Would he take the checkers, climb the fence, and meet Spencer in Victory Lane?
As the laps wound down, it was turning into a battle between Tony and reigning NASCAR champion Jimmie Johnson. The Home Depot and Lowe’s cars battled on the final laps in a thrilling bumper-to-bumper duel. They tore around the three quarter mile track, Stewart on Johnson’s bumper, Stewart moving along side on the banks, even with Johnson, enough the momentum he carried through the turns faded and his rival burst ahead on the straightaways.
The cat and mouse game continued for several thrilling laps. The crowd of more than 90,000 was on their feet. Spencer’s arm shot up each time Tony rocketed past, right on the No. 48’s tail. But this day, this race, was not to be for Spencer or Stewart. They couldn’t catch Jimmie Johnson, and Tony finished second.
Spencer was crushed. He didn’t make it to Victory Lane. He was quiet and withdrawn, not himself for an entire week. But as the days passed, who won at Richmond didn’t seem to matter as much. The end of the race faded in his mind. Spencer Roy’s weekend in Richmond holds a sharper, more intense memory that grows in prominence as other recollections fade. Spencer had met his hero, and he was larger in life than even in the boy’s grandest dreams.
Showing posts with label Tony Stewart. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tony Stewart. Show all posts
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Nursing Junior to a Championship
Some people live to save the world.
Barbie Robbins lives for Dale Earnhardt Jr.
Once time, Junior wrecked and was shaken up. Barbie, who was at home, thousands of miles from the race, put on a nurse’s outfit. She wanted to channel healing vibes to her number-one driver.
Every morning, the 49-year-old Californian wakes up underneath a collage of Dale Jr. photographs pasted above her bed. Before shedding her No. 88 pajamas, Barbie bee-lines to the computer to vote for her man in the NASCAR Most Popular Driver contest. She punches up her MySpace page, checks the guest book for new NASCAR friends and gazes at the latest Dale Jr. photos posted.
In one shot, the driver is sleeping peacefully in his race car. Thought bubbles, like those in cartoons, rise from his head to a superimposed cloud framing Barbie’s smiling face. A photo of Dale’s car speeding past the start-finish line has the caption, “Junior looks at Barbie.” A shot showing Junior with chin on clenched fist, deep in thought, is captioned, “Hmmm…should I call Barbie?” A photo of Junior appearing surprised is tagged, “Is that Barbie?” In another one, NASCAR’s biggest star is with fellow driver Tony Stewart who exclaims “Look Dale, there she is again. I think Barbie is stalking you!”
Barbie sends daily notes on the life and times of Dale Jr. to dozens of friends met on the web. On race day, members of the virtual club sit with their laptops in front of the TV telecast, typing bulletins to one another. If Junior is rammed by another driver, Barbie will fire off sailor-worthy cusses. She’s known online, and among many in the physical world, as “Junior’s Baby 8 Girl.” Some in her San Diego neighborhood call her “NASCAR Chick.”
Most days, she puts on a Dale Jr. t-shirt, which had been ironed and carefully set out the night before. She selects a Dale Jr. hat. There’s a set rotation – on Sunday night, shirts and hats are matched to days of the week. She has been unable to find Junior Under ‘Roos and will take any leads offered. At the corner store in her San Diego neighborhood, the counterman catches a glance of her NASCAR garb and long Stevie Wonder-style braids and invariably shouts, “Hey, NASCAR Chick!”
Barbie Robbins, formerly of Chicago, Illinois and a nondescript civilian life, now of San Diego, California and a minor celebrity in her neighborhood and Auto Club Speedway 104 miles due north, became Junior’s Baby 8 Girl after seeing the driver in a TV interview.
The attraction was mystical and instantaneous. The Sicilians, as any fan of “The Godfather” knows, have a term for such otherworldly instant connections: “The Thunderbolt.” The thunderbolt is deeper and more complex than what Americans might call “love at first sight.” This is not puppy dogs and floating hearts. The thunderbolt is serious, life-altering destiny not to be messed with.
In Sicily, the Thunderbolt is called, “lu lampu.”
In San Diego, Barbie Robbins told the TV screen, “Damn, he fine!”
The hour she first believed, she watched Dale Junior answer the reporter’s questions, slightly impatient, index finger prone to reach up and clean his ear, a plain spoken North Carolina boy saying “y’all” and “ain’t” whenever he darn well pleased, a regular dude of unkempt rugged good looks who’d rather be hunting or fishing than facing questions about the so-called Earnhardt family legacy.
Barbie saw beautiful unvarnished authenticity in a glossed-up world populated with too many candy-ass pretty boys, and was zapped by the thunderbolt. She started tuning to NASCAR races to see the free-spirited cowboy ride. He was courageous and could drive that car. He had his own chocolate bar. She hates chocolate. It was the sweetest candy she’d ever tasted.
Junior’s Baby 8 Girl is never to be bothered on Sunday even during family emergencies, always eager to display the Dale Junior tattoo covering one shoulder blade and to speak wistfully about the “Junior Nation” one coming to the other. She never shies from a chance to promote the individual who is the object of many of her waking thoughts and desires. And some while she’s asleep. Ask Barbie about her life, and she’ll flatly tell you, “It’s all about Junior!” There’s a twinkle in her lagoon-green eyes, and she’s not joking.
Junior’s Baby 8 Girl wasn’t the kind of woman to go trawling for celebrities occupying a central position in her life. It was out of character for her to feel an intimate connection to any pop culture icon – those distant figures of tabloid renown captured and co-oped by the media to sate the public’s insatiable appetite for unconsummated fantasy, tart gossip and computer wallpaper.
The possibility of Barbie connecting with a NASCAR driver was more remote. It wasn’t because most African American women in Southern California have little in common with the front men of a sport rooted in Carolina moonshine. It’s just that while Barbie had watched Indy Car with cousins, she wasn’t much of a race fan. She wasn’t opposed to it. Racing was cool, but there were so many other things to do on a Sunday afternoon. Beside, she actually prefers connecting with people personally in the flesh, over a Bud Light and a Newport, rather than plumbing the lives of public figures through supermarket checkout magazines.
Then came the lu lampu. She didn’t plan it. No one asks for the thunderbolt. Now there’s an unmistakable connection, a spooky empathy at play.
“When Dale Junior does an interview, and I see he’s sad, it makes me sad,” Barbie said. “I will pick up on his moods and will really feel the same way.”
After Dale Jr. left the team formed by his father – which after Senior’s passing was run by his step mother Teresa – to join the NASCAR powerhouse Hendrick Motorsports, Barbie noticed the driver was relaxed, freed from the politics and pressure of the family business. The days following his shocking move from Dale Earnhardt Inc. to join Jeff Gordon and Jimmie Johnson at a new team brought relief to the driver and his biggest fan.
“Watching Junior talking about his new team in the press conference, you could just see how happy and excited he was. And so was I.” As she likes to say in her emails, “Life is Gr88t!!!!”
Even cocooned in her car on the freeways of California, Junior Baby 8 Girl is identified by a batch of Dale Jr. bumper stickers drawing odd looks. “Sometimes on the highway, a driver will pull alongside. He’s seen my Dale Jr. stickers. The look on his face, says, ‘That is not her car.’ Yes, it’s my car, and I’m a NASCAR fan! I’m a redneck with a permanent tan! But when I get to the track, I’m just another race fan, fitting right in. I’m probably the most crazy fan, like an Energizer bunny but doing all I can to not jump over that fence and grab onto Dale Jr.’s car. But I’m still just a fan. Every other NASCAR fan I’ve met has been awesome. They don’t care if I’m black, pink or orange. I’m not into black or white. I’m into Green. Number 88 green! That’s all that matters”
Getting close to the driver of the number 88 green car is the weekend’s main goal. “I have my Junior Station set up where I lay out my hoochie outfits, oops, I mean respectful, family friendly NASCAR-themed clothing,” she says. To look her best, Junior’s Baby 8 Girl sits for eight hours to get her hair specially braided. Getting ready for the drive north, she cranks up Jackie Wilson’s “Baby Workout.”
Grilled foods are wrapped in foil. The ice chest is filled with Bud Light. Most of the beer will come back, since NASCAR fans offer theirs to her all weekend. “NASCAR tailgating rocks,” she said. “Oh my god, two times a year, drinking beer at 8 a.m., it’s the only way to party. Those other so called big sports events have nada on NASCAR.”
She loves seeing the new crop of Dale Junior t-shirts and having her picture taken in his colors. She once bought a bunch of new tees in the parking lot and began dancing for fans snapping her picture. She didn’t know it, but the goods were illegal knock-offs. The police snuck up and busted the counterfeiter. Nearby at her SUV, Junior’s Baby 8 Girl was posing in her new wares. She explained it was her car, she bought the shirts not to sell but for herself as she is the biggest Junior fan. She said the photos were not to encourage the sale of illegal merchandise but to promote her favorite driver. No, she was not being compensated.
Yes, she does this at all the races. Yes, OK, it’s a little over the top. No, she’s not kidding about all this.
The cops shook their heads and pulled away.
She’s found a niche, making dozens of friends at the track, on a first name basis with Auto Club Speedway President Gillian Zucker, a familiar face to some of the team crews. Yet still feels on the outside, nose pressed against the glass. Myriad web sites, fan magazines, TV and satellite radio coverage bring fans their NASCAR fix whenever they want. But not all the time, any time. Life beckons. There’s a job to go to, assignments looming, appointments to make, groceries to buy, a boy to raise. Thankfully, her son drinks the NASCAR Kool-Aid, too, and they’ve not missed a single race at Auto Club Speedway since 1998. Pit passes bring them close to the drivers. At one race, Junior nearly bumped into them before the drivers’ introductions.
“I reached out and touched Junior for a hot second, rubbed his arm, spoke to him,” she said. “I said, ‘I want a hug,’ just to let him know, ‘Dude, I love ya, I’m always loyal, dedicated and right there with ya.’ His smile was priceless.” Telling this story, her eyes filled with tears.
Try to squeeze Peyton Manning’s shoulder before a game. You’ll be handcuffed and thrown in jail. The chance to get up close is what Junior’s Baby 8 Girl likes most about the sport. But as near as she can get to the drivers, it’s only twice a year. When race weekends start, and she’s at work punching information into the computer, there’s no way to know what’s going on in the race shop and at the track. The data entry position is a job, not a career. Her dream is employment at NASCAR, winding up on the inside, a life with no barriers to knowing what’s happening with Dale Junior exactly when it’s happening. She brings her resume to each race she attends. You never know.
At work cut off from NASCAR on a Friday afternoon can make a fan like Barbie very frustrated. She sometimes has a premonition, like before the race at Talladega. She felt something wrong and snuck a peak at the internet. Dale had blown a tire during a practice run and crashed. A feeling of dread washed over her.
The online NASCAR network kicked into gear. Friends with jobs allowing them to follow NASCAR on SPEED or Sirius sent news. Junior was fine – checked out in the infield care center and released, walking to the garage to set up the backup car.
This time, Barbie could leave the nurse’s outfit in the closet.
-- Published with permission from THE WEEKEND STARTS ON WEDNESDAY: True Stories of Remarkable NASCAR Fans by Andrew Giangola (Motorbooks, 2010) --
Barbie Robbins lives for Dale Earnhardt Jr.
Once time, Junior wrecked and was shaken up. Barbie, who was at home, thousands of miles from the race, put on a nurse’s outfit. She wanted to channel healing vibes to her number-one driver.
Every morning, the 49-year-old Californian wakes up underneath a collage of Dale Jr. photographs pasted above her bed. Before shedding her No. 88 pajamas, Barbie bee-lines to the computer to vote for her man in the NASCAR Most Popular Driver contest. She punches up her MySpace page, checks the guest book for new NASCAR friends and gazes at the latest Dale Jr. photos posted.
In one shot, the driver is sleeping peacefully in his race car. Thought bubbles, like those in cartoons, rise from his head to a superimposed cloud framing Barbie’s smiling face. A photo of Dale’s car speeding past the start-finish line has the caption, “Junior looks at Barbie.” A shot showing Junior with chin on clenched fist, deep in thought, is captioned, “Hmmm…should I call Barbie?” A photo of Junior appearing surprised is tagged, “Is that Barbie?” In another one, NASCAR’s biggest star is with fellow driver Tony Stewart who exclaims “Look Dale, there she is again. I think Barbie is stalking you!”
Barbie sends daily notes on the life and times of Dale Jr. to dozens of friends met on the web. On race day, members of the virtual club sit with their laptops in front of the TV telecast, typing bulletins to one another. If Junior is rammed by another driver, Barbie will fire off sailor-worthy cusses. She’s known online, and among many in the physical world, as “Junior’s Baby 8 Girl.” Some in her San Diego neighborhood call her “NASCAR Chick.”
Most days, she puts on a Dale Jr. t-shirt, which had been ironed and carefully set out the night before. She selects a Dale Jr. hat. There’s a set rotation – on Sunday night, shirts and hats are matched to days of the week. She has been unable to find Junior Under ‘Roos and will take any leads offered. At the corner store in her San Diego neighborhood, the counterman catches a glance of her NASCAR garb and long Stevie Wonder-style braids and invariably shouts, “Hey, NASCAR Chick!”
Barbie Robbins, formerly of Chicago, Illinois and a nondescript civilian life, now of San Diego, California and a minor celebrity in her neighborhood and Auto Club Speedway 104 miles due north, became Junior’s Baby 8 Girl after seeing the driver in a TV interview.
The attraction was mystical and instantaneous. The Sicilians, as any fan of “The Godfather” knows, have a term for such otherworldly instant connections: “The Thunderbolt.” The thunderbolt is deeper and more complex than what Americans might call “love at first sight.” This is not puppy dogs and floating hearts. The thunderbolt is serious, life-altering destiny not to be messed with.
In Sicily, the Thunderbolt is called, “lu lampu.”
In San Diego, Barbie Robbins told the TV screen, “Damn, he fine!”
The hour she first believed, she watched Dale Junior answer the reporter’s questions, slightly impatient, index finger prone to reach up and clean his ear, a plain spoken North Carolina boy saying “y’all” and “ain’t” whenever he darn well pleased, a regular dude of unkempt rugged good looks who’d rather be hunting or fishing than facing questions about the so-called Earnhardt family legacy.
Barbie saw beautiful unvarnished authenticity in a glossed-up world populated with too many candy-ass pretty boys, and was zapped by the thunderbolt. She started tuning to NASCAR races to see the free-spirited cowboy ride. He was courageous and could drive that car. He had his own chocolate bar. She hates chocolate. It was the sweetest candy she’d ever tasted.
Junior’s Baby 8 Girl is never to be bothered on Sunday even during family emergencies, always eager to display the Dale Junior tattoo covering one shoulder blade and to speak wistfully about the “Junior Nation” one coming to the other. She never shies from a chance to promote the individual who is the object of many of her waking thoughts and desires. And some while she’s asleep. Ask Barbie about her life, and she’ll flatly tell you, “It’s all about Junior!” There’s a twinkle in her lagoon-green eyes, and she’s not joking.
Junior’s Baby 8 Girl wasn’t the kind of woman to go trawling for celebrities occupying a central position in her life. It was out of character for her to feel an intimate connection to any pop culture icon – those distant figures of tabloid renown captured and co-oped by the media to sate the public’s insatiable appetite for unconsummated fantasy, tart gossip and computer wallpaper.
The possibility of Barbie connecting with a NASCAR driver was more remote. It wasn’t because most African American women in Southern California have little in common with the front men of a sport rooted in Carolina moonshine. It’s just that while Barbie had watched Indy Car with cousins, she wasn’t much of a race fan. She wasn’t opposed to it. Racing was cool, but there were so many other things to do on a Sunday afternoon. Beside, she actually prefers connecting with people personally in the flesh, over a Bud Light and a Newport, rather than plumbing the lives of public figures through supermarket checkout magazines.
Then came the lu lampu. She didn’t plan it. No one asks for the thunderbolt. Now there’s an unmistakable connection, a spooky empathy at play.
“When Dale Junior does an interview, and I see he’s sad, it makes me sad,” Barbie said. “I will pick up on his moods and will really feel the same way.”
After Dale Jr. left the team formed by his father – which after Senior’s passing was run by his step mother Teresa – to join the NASCAR powerhouse Hendrick Motorsports, Barbie noticed the driver was relaxed, freed from the politics and pressure of the family business. The days following his shocking move from Dale Earnhardt Inc. to join Jeff Gordon and Jimmie Johnson at a new team brought relief to the driver and his biggest fan.
“Watching Junior talking about his new team in the press conference, you could just see how happy and excited he was. And so was I.” As she likes to say in her emails, “Life is Gr88t!!!!”
Even cocooned in her car on the freeways of California, Junior Baby 8 Girl is identified by a batch of Dale Jr. bumper stickers drawing odd looks. “Sometimes on the highway, a driver will pull alongside. He’s seen my Dale Jr. stickers. The look on his face, says, ‘That is not her car.’ Yes, it’s my car, and I’m a NASCAR fan! I’m a redneck with a permanent tan! But when I get to the track, I’m just another race fan, fitting right in. I’m probably the most crazy fan, like an Energizer bunny but doing all I can to not jump over that fence and grab onto Dale Jr.’s car. But I’m still just a fan. Every other NASCAR fan I’ve met has been awesome. They don’t care if I’m black, pink or orange. I’m not into black or white. I’m into Green. Number 88 green! That’s all that matters”
Getting close to the driver of the number 88 green car is the weekend’s main goal. “I have my Junior Station set up where I lay out my hoochie outfits, oops, I mean respectful, family friendly NASCAR-themed clothing,” she says. To look her best, Junior’s Baby 8 Girl sits for eight hours to get her hair specially braided. Getting ready for the drive north, she cranks up Jackie Wilson’s “Baby Workout.”
Grilled foods are wrapped in foil. The ice chest is filled with Bud Light. Most of the beer will come back, since NASCAR fans offer theirs to her all weekend. “NASCAR tailgating rocks,” she said. “Oh my god, two times a year, drinking beer at 8 a.m., it’s the only way to party. Those other so called big sports events have nada on NASCAR.”
She loves seeing the new crop of Dale Junior t-shirts and having her picture taken in his colors. She once bought a bunch of new tees in the parking lot and began dancing for fans snapping her picture. She didn’t know it, but the goods were illegal knock-offs. The police snuck up and busted the counterfeiter. Nearby at her SUV, Junior’s Baby 8 Girl was posing in her new wares. She explained it was her car, she bought the shirts not to sell but for herself as she is the biggest Junior fan. She said the photos were not to encourage the sale of illegal merchandise but to promote her favorite driver. No, she was not being compensated.
Yes, she does this at all the races. Yes, OK, it’s a little over the top. No, she’s not kidding about all this.
The cops shook their heads and pulled away.
She’s found a niche, making dozens of friends at the track, on a first name basis with Auto Club Speedway President Gillian Zucker, a familiar face to some of the team crews. Yet still feels on the outside, nose pressed against the glass. Myriad web sites, fan magazines, TV and satellite radio coverage bring fans their NASCAR fix whenever they want. But not all the time, any time. Life beckons. There’s a job to go to, assignments looming, appointments to make, groceries to buy, a boy to raise. Thankfully, her son drinks the NASCAR Kool-Aid, too, and they’ve not missed a single race at Auto Club Speedway since 1998. Pit passes bring them close to the drivers. At one race, Junior nearly bumped into them before the drivers’ introductions.
“I reached out and touched Junior for a hot second, rubbed his arm, spoke to him,” she said. “I said, ‘I want a hug,’ just to let him know, ‘Dude, I love ya, I’m always loyal, dedicated and right there with ya.’ His smile was priceless.” Telling this story, her eyes filled with tears.
Try to squeeze Peyton Manning’s shoulder before a game. You’ll be handcuffed and thrown in jail. The chance to get up close is what Junior’s Baby 8 Girl likes most about the sport. But as near as she can get to the drivers, it’s only twice a year. When race weekends start, and she’s at work punching information into the computer, there’s no way to know what’s going on in the race shop and at the track. The data entry position is a job, not a career. Her dream is employment at NASCAR, winding up on the inside, a life with no barriers to knowing what’s happening with Dale Junior exactly when it’s happening. She brings her resume to each race she attends. You never know.
At work cut off from NASCAR on a Friday afternoon can make a fan like Barbie very frustrated. She sometimes has a premonition, like before the race at Talladega. She felt something wrong and snuck a peak at the internet. Dale had blown a tire during a practice run and crashed. A feeling of dread washed over her.
The online NASCAR network kicked into gear. Friends with jobs allowing them to follow NASCAR on SPEED or Sirius sent news. Junior was fine – checked out in the infield care center and released, walking to the garage to set up the backup car.
This time, Barbie could leave the nurse’s outfit in the closet.
-- Published with permission from THE WEEKEND STARTS ON WEDNESDAY: True Stories of Remarkable NASCAR Fans by Andrew Giangola (Motorbooks, 2010) --
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Smoke Wins and So Does Spencer Roy
It’s fitting that as the traveling circus stops in Richmond this weekend we hear from Stephanie Roy, the Tony Stewart-loving mom whose son Spencer spent a memorable Make a Wish with the two-time NASCAR champ at Richmond International Raceway, chronicled in The Weekend Starts on Wednesday.
Stephanie had previously taken a big one for the team by getting Smoke’s tattoo on her arm. Spencer had asked to be branded with his favorite driver, but he was just a young boy. So mom caught Smoke at an autograph signing, got him to plant one on her bicept, found a nearby tattoo parlor, and made Tony’s signature permanent, all before dinner time, suprising her delighted son to no end.
Well, following Smoke’s big momentum-building win in the red Office Depot Chevy last weekend in Atlanta, Stephanie wrote to us with good news. Here is her email:
I wanted to let everyone know that we were all sooo excited to see Tony win Sunday nite; it was AWESOME!! And also, that we got some important information yesterday.
When Spencer was at Duke University Hospital in May 2008, they took some samples from him to be tested. Two years later, we’ve now gotten the results back.
Spencer has been diagnosed with Timothy Syndrome, a very rare form of long Qt syndrome.
They only know of 20 people in the whole world with this, and Spencer makes 21.
After reading everything about it and talking with his doctors, this has been one of the answers we've been looking for throughout 14 years of Spencer’s life...and it happened to come immediately following Smoke's win in Hotlanta.. I think that is what is making this so ironic: Smoke gets a win that was long over due, and we get questions answered that have been long over due.
We still have a long road ahead. But Spencer is a very strong-willed young man and will not let anything slow him down. He started high school yesterday, all dressed out his new Tony shirt and hat looking good!
When he got home, I asked how his first day went, and if he learned anything.
His response was, "OMG there are sooo many girls."
I cracked up laughing. Then he announced, "Yep and I’m goin’ to ask one out"
"Oh," I responded. "Do you know her name?"
"No," he says. "Not yet."
So as you can see, he still loves the ladies....just like Tony. Hahaha
If you get a chance, please let Tony know we were all excited for him on Sunday, and we’ve had a great start to the week as well.
So there you have it. Please, if anyone sees Smoke at the track this weekend, let him know about his and our friend Spencer Roy’s good news. Maybe Smoke will even lend a line for Spencer to use to get that date. Good luck, Spence!
Stephanie had previously taken a big one for the team by getting Smoke’s tattoo on her arm. Spencer had asked to be branded with his favorite driver, but he was just a young boy. So mom caught Smoke at an autograph signing, got him to plant one on her bicept, found a nearby tattoo parlor, and made Tony’s signature permanent, all before dinner time, suprising her delighted son to no end.
Well, following Smoke’s big momentum-building win in the red Office Depot Chevy last weekend in Atlanta, Stephanie wrote to us with good news. Here is her email:
I wanted to let everyone know that we were all sooo excited to see Tony win Sunday nite; it was AWESOME!! And also, that we got some important information yesterday.
When Spencer was at Duke University Hospital in May 2008, they took some samples from him to be tested. Two years later, we’ve now gotten the results back.
Spencer has been diagnosed with Timothy Syndrome, a very rare form of long Qt syndrome.
They only know of 20 people in the whole world with this, and Spencer makes 21.
After reading everything about it and talking with his doctors, this has been one of the answers we've been looking for throughout 14 years of Spencer’s life...and it happened to come immediately following Smoke's win in Hotlanta.. I think that is what is making this so ironic: Smoke gets a win that was long over due, and we get questions answered that have been long over due.
We still have a long road ahead. But Spencer is a very strong-willed young man and will not let anything slow him down. He started high school yesterday, all dressed out his new Tony shirt and hat looking good!
When he got home, I asked how his first day went, and if he learned anything.
His response was, "OMG there are sooo many girls."
I cracked up laughing. Then he announced, "Yep and I’m goin’ to ask one out"
"Oh," I responded. "Do you know her name?"
"No," he says. "Not yet."
So as you can see, he still loves the ladies....just like Tony. Hahaha
If you get a chance, please let Tony know we were all excited for him on Sunday, and we’ve had a great start to the week as well.
So there you have it. Please, if anyone sees Smoke at the track this weekend, let him know about his and our friend Spencer Roy’s good news. Maybe Smoke will even lend a line for Spencer to use to get that date. Good luck, Spence!
Monday, May 24, 2010
Fans from Book to Field a Team in King's Cup
Kurt Busch, Kasey Kahne, Elliott Sadler, and A.J. Allmendinger have no idea what’s in store for them on the track tomorrow.
When these top NASCAR drivers strap in their go karts on Tuesday to run in “The King’s Cup – Karting for a Cause,” Richard Petty’s annual event helping the Paralyzed Veterans of America, they’ll be going up against a group of fans featured in The Weekend Starts on Wednesday: True Stories of Remarkable NASCAR Fans.
Steve Deuker (“Ryan’s Hope”), Natalie Sather (“This Girl Wants to Be Jeff Gordon in a Skirt”), Kenny Gregory (“The Fathead Guy”), and Judy Barr (“The Summit of Fandom”) will be racing for the team, “The Weekend Starts on Wednesday Chapter Buddies." They’ll go up against the NASCAR drivers and 30 other teams vying for the King’s Cup” at Victory Lane Karting in Charlotte.
“The Weekend Starts on Wednesday features two wounded veterans – Cpl. John Hyland and Sgt. Russ Friedman – so we wanted to honor the Paralyzed Veterans of America and have a little fun racing,” said Steve Deuker, who organized the Chapter Buddies team.
Deuker, a lifelong racing fan who traveled to Charlotte from Minneapolis with his wife Christine to attend the NASCAR Hall of induction ceremonies, watch the NASCAR Sprint All-Star Challenge at Charlotte Motor Speedway, and run in the King’s Cup, is pumped up after running 50 laps in a stock car at Carolina Speedway’s Dirt Track Racing School in Gastonia.
“What I like about this event is you can run against NASCAR drivers and other fans,” Deuker said. “NASCAR fandom is made up of such diverse occupations and lifestyles. Being in this book, we’ve formed lifelong bonds with other remarkable fans, including two military heroes. It’s going to be unforgettable racing with them while helping wounded warriors.”
Deuker likes his chances for fielding a competitive team, even with the varying experience of his drivers.
Kenny Gregory, known to fans as “The Fathead Guy,” for bringing life-size, driver stand-ups into the infield, has participated in two kart races in Pennsylvania. However, he finished last both times. “They used a sun dial to time me,” Gregory said.
To make up lap time, Deuker is looking to Natalie Sather, who won a national go kart title, and was the first woman to win a major sprint car championship, taking the ASCS Midwest points championship in 2007. Sather currently drives the Lady Eagle Safety Wear, K&N, Bell Helmets #94 for Sellers Racing in the NASCAR Whelen All American Series.
Sather, who grew up racing go-karts on dirt, jumped at the chance to get back in a go-kart for a great cause – even with a broken wrist suffered April 17 at South Boston Speedway.
When she was 17, Sather was involved in a spectacular T-bone wreck in a sprint car which put a 10-inch pin into her leg. Eight years later, her wreck at South Boston wasn’t nearly as violent. But the spin happened so quickly, it managed to snap her wrist right off the wheel.
Sather pitted and then drove sixty more laps with one arm.
“The adrenaline was pumping and it was hard for me to think about my wrist,” the 25-year old driver from Fargo recalled. “I was hurt, mad and upset, and wasn't going to give up easy. When people found out my wrist was broken, they were shocked I kept going, and to be honest so was I,” she said with a laugh.
Following surgery three weeks ago, Sather had a special brace made. She’s dosing on bone-building vitamins and uses a bone-stimulating machine to close a 2-millimeter gap in her wrist. She’s raced two times since the operation.
“The King’s Cup is about having fun, raising money for the PVA, and some healthy competition,” Sather said. “Well, not too healthy, because anyone who knows me, knows I'm extremely competitive.”
The Weekend Starts on Wednesday author Andrew Giangola will be in New York and unable to drive for The Chapter Buddies (because he is in New York, not from New York).
“Me being in New York is beneficial for the team, because the only thing I drive is my wife crazy,” Giangola said.
To take his place, the book’s author recruited Michael Cherry, a driver with Revolution Racing in the Whelen All American Series, as well as a serious go kart ringer. Last Friday, Cherry beat NASCAR Nationwide Series drivers Trevor Bayne and Ricky Stenhouse in the Aflac 200, a go kart event held by Aflac and NASCAR Fuel for Business, a consortium of B2B partners.
The King’s Cup takes place from 4:00 p.m. to 9:30 p.m. Up to 30 teams will compete in the endurance karting event. The top 15 squads will qualify for the two-hour endurance feature race. NASCAR drivers sponsoring teams through their foundations include Greg Biffle, Kasey Kahne, and Elliott and Hermie Sadler.
Last year’s championship team, The Kurt Busch Foundation, will return to defend its title after The King gives the command to start the engines and waves the green flag.
“Our veterans have made it possible for us to do what we love,” said Petty, the long-time spokesperson of PVA, a 64-year old organization founded by spinal cord-injured service members who returned home from World War II. “This event is a great way to kick back and have some fun, and it’s a great way to give back to those who have given so much for our country.”
“Richard Petty is a great champion for our members and their families and we deeply appreciate all that he and his family do for us,” said Gene A. Crayton, national president of Paralyzed Veterans.
Tickets are available for $25 online at www.pva.org/gokart or at the event. All proceeds will benefit the Paralyzed Veterans of America.
Sprint, Best Buy and Reynolds Consumer Products are among the sponsors of the event, and Freightliner is bringing several of their hauler drivers to participate as well.
A silent auction will include more than 70 items, such dinner with the King and autographed sports memorabilia, including a copy of The Weekend Starts on Wednesday, signed by the author and chapter buddies, along with Tony Stewart, who wrote the Foreword, and Kyle Busch, who penned the Afterword.
To learn more about The King’s Cup - Karting for a Cause, please visit www.pva.org/gokart.
When these top NASCAR drivers strap in their go karts on Tuesday to run in “The King’s Cup – Karting for a Cause,” Richard Petty’s annual event helping the Paralyzed Veterans of America, they’ll be going up against a group of fans featured in The Weekend Starts on Wednesday: True Stories of Remarkable NASCAR Fans.
Steve Deuker (“Ryan’s Hope”), Natalie Sather (“This Girl Wants to Be Jeff Gordon in a Skirt”), Kenny Gregory (“The Fathead Guy”), and Judy Barr (“The Summit of Fandom”) will be racing for the team, “The Weekend Starts on Wednesday Chapter Buddies." They’ll go up against the NASCAR drivers and 30 other teams vying for the King’s Cup” at Victory Lane Karting in Charlotte.
“The Weekend Starts on Wednesday features two wounded veterans – Cpl. John Hyland and Sgt. Russ Friedman – so we wanted to honor the Paralyzed Veterans of America and have a little fun racing,” said Steve Deuker, who organized the Chapter Buddies team.
Deuker, a lifelong racing fan who traveled to Charlotte from Minneapolis with his wife Christine to attend the NASCAR Hall of induction ceremonies, watch the NASCAR Sprint All-Star Challenge at Charlotte Motor Speedway, and run in the King’s Cup, is pumped up after running 50 laps in a stock car at Carolina Speedway’s Dirt Track Racing School in Gastonia.
“What I like about this event is you can run against NASCAR drivers and other fans,” Deuker said. “NASCAR fandom is made up of such diverse occupations and lifestyles. Being in this book, we’ve formed lifelong bonds with other remarkable fans, including two military heroes. It’s going to be unforgettable racing with them while helping wounded warriors.”
Deuker likes his chances for fielding a competitive team, even with the varying experience of his drivers.
Kenny Gregory, known to fans as “The Fathead Guy,” for bringing life-size, driver stand-ups into the infield, has participated in two kart races in Pennsylvania. However, he finished last both times. “They used a sun dial to time me,” Gregory said.
To make up lap time, Deuker is looking to Natalie Sather, who won a national go kart title, and was the first woman to win a major sprint car championship, taking the ASCS Midwest points championship in 2007. Sather currently drives the Lady Eagle Safety Wear, K&N, Bell Helmets #94 for Sellers Racing in the NASCAR Whelen All American Series.
Sather, who grew up racing go-karts on dirt, jumped at the chance to get back in a go-kart for a great cause – even with a broken wrist suffered April 17 at South Boston Speedway.
When she was 17, Sather was involved in a spectacular T-bone wreck in a sprint car which put a 10-inch pin into her leg. Eight years later, her wreck at South Boston wasn’t nearly as violent. But the spin happened so quickly, it managed to snap her wrist right off the wheel.
Sather pitted and then drove sixty more laps with one arm.
“The adrenaline was pumping and it was hard for me to think about my wrist,” the 25-year old driver from Fargo recalled. “I was hurt, mad and upset, and wasn't going to give up easy. When people found out my wrist was broken, they were shocked I kept going, and to be honest so was I,” she said with a laugh.
Following surgery three weeks ago, Sather had a special brace made. She’s dosing on bone-building vitamins and uses a bone-stimulating machine to close a 2-millimeter gap in her wrist. She’s raced two times since the operation.
“The King’s Cup is about having fun, raising money for the PVA, and some healthy competition,” Sather said. “Well, not too healthy, because anyone who knows me, knows I'm extremely competitive.”
The Weekend Starts on Wednesday author Andrew Giangola will be in New York and unable to drive for The Chapter Buddies (because he is in New York, not from New York).
“Me being in New York is beneficial for the team, because the only thing I drive is my wife crazy,” Giangola said.
To take his place, the book’s author recruited Michael Cherry, a driver with Revolution Racing in the Whelen All American Series, as well as a serious go kart ringer. Last Friday, Cherry beat NASCAR Nationwide Series drivers Trevor Bayne and Ricky Stenhouse in the Aflac 200, a go kart event held by Aflac and NASCAR Fuel for Business, a consortium of B2B partners.
The King’s Cup takes place from 4:00 p.m. to 9:30 p.m. Up to 30 teams will compete in the endurance karting event. The top 15 squads will qualify for the two-hour endurance feature race. NASCAR drivers sponsoring teams through their foundations include Greg Biffle, Kasey Kahne, and Elliott and Hermie Sadler.
Last year’s championship team, The Kurt Busch Foundation, will return to defend its title after The King gives the command to start the engines and waves the green flag.
“Our veterans have made it possible for us to do what we love,” said Petty, the long-time spokesperson of PVA, a 64-year old organization founded by spinal cord-injured service members who returned home from World War II. “This event is a great way to kick back and have some fun, and it’s a great way to give back to those who have given so much for our country.”
“Richard Petty is a great champion for our members and their families and we deeply appreciate all that he and his family do for us,” said Gene A. Crayton, national president of Paralyzed Veterans.
Tickets are available for $25 online at www.pva.org/gokart or at the event. All proceeds will benefit the Paralyzed Veterans of America.
Sprint, Best Buy and Reynolds Consumer Products are among the sponsors of the event, and Freightliner is bringing several of their hauler drivers to participate as well.
A silent auction will include more than 70 items, such dinner with the King and autographed sports memorabilia, including a copy of The Weekend Starts on Wednesday, signed by the author and chapter buddies, along with Tony Stewart, who wrote the Foreword, and Kyle Busch, who penned the Afterword.
To learn more about The King’s Cup - Karting for a Cause, please visit www.pva.org/gokart.
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