A few words of explanation concerning race line-ups here… for the qualifying races the Chief Steward is allowed to use his discretion… up to a point. Once a car is qualified for the main event, positions are determined strictly by money won over the previous three races. We hadn’t been even marginally competitive in the previous three weeks and when we saw cars who had some (moderate) success starting in front of us it was very frustrating. It wasn’t that we thought there would be a problem to qualify. It was that it just wasn’t fair. There was only one car who Alan figured had done worse than we had and he was on the ‘pole’ (starting first and on the inside). Now that we were into the Summer it meant more cars were showing up and it meant more traffic on the track. As an example, there were thirty cars on opening night trying to qualify for twenty four spots. On this night there were over forty cars in the pits meaning that only six of the fourteen cars in the race would qualify. A wreck in a qualifying heat could mean not making the feature race and that was what had us upset. All of the cars that were starting in front of us were what we called “back markers” meaning that they weren’t very good and often caused wrecks. But, in spite of Cliffy’s tirade nothing was going to change the steward’s mind. We were going to start fifth… third row on the inside.
When the green flag flew to start the race I could see the three cars on the inside, all bumper on bumper. As they went into the turn the first car in that line started to push out towards the wall. If there hadn't been cars on the outside of him he would’ve ended up in the wall. But, by the time they made the backstretch the second place car had gotten underneath him with Cliffy pushing him. At the third turn it was the same as when they were in the first turn only this time there wasn’t a car on the outside. It became obvious that Cliffy was pushing him out of the way… and was successful as by the time they made it to the start/finish line Cliffy was clearly in front. There was one caution (yellow) flag for a wreck which bunched the cars back up but when the race restarted Cliffy was gone… long gone!
Back in the pits we were really excited and when Cliffy pulled into the pit stall even he was smiling… but not for long. The two drivers he’d pushed out of his way were there with some of their pit crew before he could climb out of the car. As I’ve written, our stall was just inside the entry gate and the track promoter had assigned a security guard (an off duty cop) there to prevent anyone from sneaking into the pits. He recognized the trouble that was brewing and tried to cut the drivers and their crews off. There were about ten of them and he wasn’t that big so I became concerned that it might get ugly. Dick was about 6’2” and over 200 pounds while Cliffy was 6’0” and the same weight but as far as the rest of us, Alan, Robob, Buster and me, we didn’t offer much in the way of resistance. Fortunately, Pee Wee who pitted next to us, saw the trouble coming and got the attention of the two other security people assigned to the pits area. After some yelling and screaming they appeared and stopped any physical activity before it happened. Within minutes the track promoter appeared and told told the two drivers and their crews that if they wanted to continue to race at his track they better head back to their pit stalls.
All I can tell you is that my heart was pounding like a drummer beats his drums. I can’t speak for the others but I was afraid. Size and numbers have a tendency to do that to me. In any case, as things calmed down the one thing Dick, Alan and I agreed upon was that as soon as the qualifying races were over there would be an announcement over the PA system for Cliffy to report to the Chief Steward. Butch had the power to suspend drivers as well as crew members but we agreed the call would concern Cliffy’s aggressive driving. We didn’t say anything to Cliffy about our concerns, satisfied to hear him tell about the new found power he had now that we’d figured out how to adjust the fuel injectors.
As expected, the call went out and we watched Cliffy head in Butch’s direction. Butch was a former car owner/driver so was well qualified to rule over the pits and the races. He was a giant of a man, well over 300 pounds and with a gravely voice that seemed close to a dog’s barking when he was mad. None of us could understand why he’d handicapped us with a starting spot of fifth in our qualifying race and it was Alan that suggested that he was mad at Cliffy for one reason or another. If that theory was true then Cliffy’s visit with him might go badly. All we could do was wait for Cliffy to return. While waiting, Freddy, the driver who’d loaned us the injection system, came over to find out how Cliffy liked the system now. He hadn’t seen Cliffy get into the two cars to shove them out of the way so he threw in his ’two cents’ as to what Butch might do warning that if there was one thing consistent with Butch it was his inconsistency… and then walked away.
It took maybe 15 minutes for Cliffy to return. He had a smirk on his face which forecast to us he wasn’t going to be penalized. It was like a mini celebration for about a minute and then the crew set out to prepare the car for the feature event, a 25 lap race. The only damage I could see as a result of hitting and moving the two cars was a bent front bumper. My ‘take’ on it was that bumpers were put on the cars to do just what Cliffy had done. Cliffy, now feeling ‘chipper’, went off to find Freddy, C J and anyone else who’d listen to him. It was Robob who discovered that the starting line-up for the main event had been posted for the cars who’d already qualified and we were starting second, front row but on the outside. When I heard that I was already counting our money. BUT… that feeling changed when he told us the car starting in the first position was one of the cars that Cliffy had pushed out of his way.
The driver had an odd first name… Pleasant, and his last name began with an O. So, the car number was O or Zero, whichever way you wanted to take it. The guy had been racing, part time, for many years but with little success. Another “back marker” as we called the cars that weren’t really competitive. Other than being in the way when the lead car(s) caught up to him to put him a lap down, he had never been a troublemaker. But, I remembered the look on his face when he and the others approached our car and the crew. I wasn’t so sure that things just might change that night.
I didn’t express my concern with any of the others but when the cars were heading for the green flag to start the race I literally held my breath My eyes were on the Zero car and when he got to the turn he never let off the accelerator or turned the steering wheel. Cliffy never did admit that he was anticipating that action but just as he was about to start turning his steering wheel for the turn he hit the brakes… but only for a second or two. The car(s) behind him hit him but not hard enough to turn him and we all watched as the Zero car went flying past our car and straight into the retaining wall. It was a hard crash and the race was stopped to clean up the debris. The driver wasn’t hurt and when interviewed later said his accelerator pedal stuck. In my heart I knew that was a lie.
When the race restarted Cliffy took the lead immediately and, in spite of a couple of caution flags for wrecks and spin-outs, never relinquished the lead. We’d won our first race (and $750 needed dollars) with a Chevy motor!
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| Note the fuel injection system |
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