In an era when major league baseball players, NFL greats, and NBA
superstars charge upwards of $20 an autograph at
impersonal signing sessions with long lines, it's refreshing to see
NASCAR's good 'ol boys still signing for free, talking to kids,
and generally making themselves available to the public. Sure, there are
times when drivers have to leave to catch flights and excuse themselves
from such activities, but most NASCAR drivers are genuinely nice guys who
will accommodate race fans when they can. The nice guy tradition isn't
new to the sport- it started a long time ago.
Before the 1962 World 600 a boy scout group in Charlotte contacted the
speedway and requested the presence of a NASCAR driver at their weekly
meeting. The boys in the troop had made their preference known. They
wanted Fireball Roberts, and if they couldn't get Fireball they would
take David Pearson. The "Pontiac Pack" as it was known in those days, made
up of Roberts, Pearson, Joe Weatherly, Jack Smith, Junior Johnson and others,
was the dominant force in racing. On the big tracks, they frequently
qualified three to six miles an hour faster than the Fords of Fred Lorenzen
and Nelson Stacy, the Plymouth of Richard Petty, and the Chevrolet of
Ned Jarrett. Kids identify with headline makers and clearly the
Pontiacs were making headlines.
Unfortunately for the local boy scout troop, Roberts and Pearson had
commitments. Speedway executives began calling car owners
everywhere, trying on short notice to recruit a "star" to appear at the
meeting. When just about everyone had said, "Sorry our guy is booked",
the phone rang. It was the office of Holman-Moody. They had a driver named
Nelson Stacy. Otherwise known as "bull necked Nelson Stacy," or
"Grandpa Nelson Stacy," as Nelson did not begin his NASCAR career until
his mid-forties, and was indeed a grandfather. Stacy was a first rate
Grand National driver (as Winston Cup was known in those days).
He had won the Southern 500 in Darlington the year before and could
handle a race car with the best of them. Unfortunately Nelson hadn't
made any headlines that season and the scouts were less than excited when
they found out someone called "grandpa" was going to be their speaker.
None the less they all showed up hoping to meet a real NASCAR driver and
were loaded with questions for the aging chauffeur.
When Nelson arrived he introduced himself to the kids who began to shower
him with racing questions. "Have you ever passed Fireball Roberts?" one
youngster asked. "Once I think, but he was in the pits," Stacy replied.
"Well what about this week, you think you could pass Fireball just one
time, for us"? the inquisitive scout asked. "I don't know," Stacy replied,
"he's awfully fast, but I'll sure try." The session ended with autographs
for everyone and a commitment from Nelson to run as hard as he could on
Sunday.
On race day the scouts sat together watching their new found hero with
hopes he would finish the race, and maybe even pass the famous Fireball
Roberts, even if the pass took place when Roberts was in the pits.
The race began with the Pontiac pack leading the way, but soon the powerful
Pontiacs began to fall out. The Fords driven by Stacy and Fred Lorenzen
moved closer to the front. As the race passed the halfway point it looked
as if there might be an upset but several makes of car were in contention.
Educated fans were simply waiting for the Pontiacs to take over.
Despite their edge in horsepower it was not a day for Pontiac. Stacy
rocketed to the lead as if he were shot out of a cannon and Lorenzen moved
to third. As the laps ran down the scouts began to look at each other.
Was it possible an old man, a guy over 40, who they had never heard of,
could beat not only Fireball but the entire field? Indeed it was. Nelson
Stacy won the World 600 that year, one of four victories in a short
career, and a group of boy scouts had finally met someone who could pass
Fireball Roberts. The celebration began in victory circle but ended in
the stands with a screaming group of boy scouts that had just witnessed
what they thought was a genuine miracle!
I met Nelson Stacy once following that day. The occasion was after
a race at Martinsville Speedway in Virginia. Searching diligently for my boyhood hero
Fred Lorenzen, I came upon Stacy standing next to his car in the pits.
The year was 1963. It took four and a half hours to run 500 laps at the
little half mile oval in those days, and Stacy looked exhausted.
Realizing he was Lorenzen's teammate, I approached him for an autograph. "Mr. Stacy
would you sign this for me?" I asked. He looked back and smiled.
"Would you give me a dollar for my autograph?" he said in a serious voice.
"Yes sir," I replied, reaching into my pocket and pulling out a crumpled
dollar bill. As I reached to hand it to him, he chortled.
"No, you keep your dollar. I'll be glad to sign your program,"
he said, laughing so hard I thought he would fall over.
Sadly, Nelson Stacy passed away several years ago. He spent his final years
in Florida where he owned a car dealership, complete with a big yellow
sign with a red 29, just like his Holman-Moody Ford. If he was around
today I would have a hard time envisioning Nelson Stacy charging $20 for an
autograph. But maybe, just maybe, at those autograph tables, he could
bring himself to charge a dollar.
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Copyright ©2001 Jeff Gordon Online All rights reserved. Unauthorized duplication is a violation of U.S. copyright law. |
