#4 - Modoc Speedway 10/23/03
What Happened: The
Inaugural Street Stock World Championship at Modoc Speedway in Modoc, SC was paying a whopping $7500 to the
winner. At the time, this made it one of the biggest Street Stock events in the country and I, having announced the previous two Street Stock World Championships at Muskingum County Speedway, was asked to come down and announce this event. With a strong contingent of Mid-Ohio Valley drivers making the trip, I opted to headed down with Ed Gillian, Steve Bigley, and the 33 Auto Sales crew for what
would end up being one of the biggest fiascos I have ever seen in my life.
Although Day One of racing went relatively smooth, things heated up away from the track that night. Several of us took it upon ourselves to take a taxi to Augusta, GA, which was the nearest big city, for a little fun at the strip club. All was well until my good friend Ed Gillian hopped on some guy’s dolly and wanted to be pushed around the club. The fella pushing the dolly didn’t think too highly of that and threw the dolly, with Ed still on it, down to the ground in frustration. Chaos ensued and the resulting ruckus that broke out had me wondering if I going to die right then and there.
After being thrown out of the strip club, we went across the street to a local bar who had drinks much cheaper than the $5.25 bottles we had been paying for. With the $3 special of the night being Rum & Coke, Yours Truly matched some of the "more qualified” guys who were there drink for drink. It wasn't long before I was stumbling around the pool table, slurring my speech, and ordering up another round. Soon thereafter, we were all in a taxi on our way back to the hotel. Once we got to the hotel, I remember hugging the railing as tightly as I could, struggling to make my way up to our room on the second floor. With the garbage can by my side, I crashed hard on the bed. And that’s when the room started spinning as I clung to the bed with all my might for fear of flying off.
Finally, I woke up… not really remembering who or where I was. Nevertheless, there was a race to announce that night and I was the man for the job. Unfortunately, Day Two of racing couldn’t have had more problems. The nazis running this event were such sticklers that they actually took roll at the driver’s meetings. As I stood there and listened to them call off the names of every single driver, I felt as though I was in standing outside for a 4th grade fire drill.
After being absolutely inundated with water, the track became rougher than anything I had ever seen. Even after stopping the action twice throughout the evening to work on the track, the rough-and-tumble surface led to caution after caution after caution in the 75 lap event main event. As a matter of fact, 13 cautions fell in the first 25 laps of the race, thus resulting in a fuel stop shortly thereafter.
To add to the lateness of this cluster-screw, they gave drivers a three-lap courtesy to change flat tires and make repairs. Just past the half way point, one car lost a tire and wheel, resulting in it bouncing up and over the catchfence and into the first few rows of the grandstands. Fortunately, because it was past 3 in the morning, only a handful of faithful fans were left and nobody was injured.
Mercifully, the checkered flag in this marathon finally waved shortly after 4am. Just a handful of drivers remained on the track and practically everyone was to slash their own wrists in an effort to get the hell out of this mess.
We stopped by the pay window at 4:45am, left the track at 5:00am, and made it back to our hotel at 5:30am… that gave us enough time to grab our belongings, take a quick shower, and head back up the road.
Looking Back: 100% total disaster. That’s the best way to describe this race, which had so much hype and build-up. A month after this race, Darrell Payne (head of the SDRA, the sanctioning body affiliated with the event) called and offered me a full-time job… which I politely, but gladly declined.
Although Day One of racing went relatively smooth, things heated up away from the track that night. Several of us took it upon ourselves to take a taxi to Augusta, GA, which was the nearest big city, for a little fun at the strip club. All was well until my good friend Ed Gillian hopped on some guy’s dolly and wanted to be pushed around the club. The fella pushing the dolly didn’t think too highly of that and threw the dolly, with Ed still on it, down to the ground in frustration. Chaos ensued and the resulting ruckus that broke out had me wondering if I going to die right then and there.
After being thrown out of the strip club, we went across the street to a local bar who had drinks much cheaper than the $5.25 bottles we had been paying for. With the $3 special of the night being Rum & Coke, Yours Truly matched some of the "more qualified” guys who were there drink for drink. It wasn't long before I was stumbling around the pool table, slurring my speech, and ordering up another round. Soon thereafter, we were all in a taxi on our way back to the hotel. Once we got to the hotel, I remember hugging the railing as tightly as I could, struggling to make my way up to our room on the second floor. With the garbage can by my side, I crashed hard on the bed. And that’s when the room started spinning as I clung to the bed with all my might for fear of flying off.
Finally, I woke up… not really remembering who or where I was. Nevertheless, there was a race to announce that night and I was the man for the job. Unfortunately, Day Two of racing couldn’t have had more problems. The nazis running this event were such sticklers that they actually took roll at the driver’s meetings. As I stood there and listened to them call off the names of every single driver, I felt as though I was in standing outside for a 4th grade fire drill.
After being absolutely inundated with water, the track became rougher than anything I had ever seen. Even after stopping the action twice throughout the evening to work on the track, the rough-and-tumble surface led to caution after caution after caution in the 75 lap event main event. As a matter of fact, 13 cautions fell in the first 25 laps of the race, thus resulting in a fuel stop shortly thereafter.
To add to the lateness of this cluster-screw, they gave drivers a three-lap courtesy to change flat tires and make repairs. Just past the half way point, one car lost a tire and wheel, resulting in it bouncing up and over the catchfence and into the first few rows of the grandstands. Fortunately, because it was past 3 in the morning, only a handful of faithful fans were left and nobody was injured.
Mercifully, the checkered flag in this marathon finally waved shortly after 4am. Just a handful of drivers remained on the track and practically everyone was to slash their own wrists in an effort to get the hell out of this mess.
We stopped by the pay window at 4:45am, left the track at 5:00am, and made it back to our hotel at 5:30am… that gave us enough time to grab our belongings, take a quick shower, and head back up the road.
Looking Back: 100% total disaster. That’s the best way to describe this race, which had so much hype and build-up. A month after this race, Darrell Payne (head of the SDRA, the sanctioning body affiliated with the event) called and offered me a full-time job… which I politely, but gladly declined.
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