Catchfence

NASCAR books have become a dime a dozen over the last decade or so. Their quality has run the gamut from forgettable puff-pieces to some solid in-depth looks such as Shaun Assael’s WIDE OPEN: DAYS AND NIGHTS ON THE NASCAR TOUR and the compelling oral histories of NASCAR recorded by Peter Golenbock, not to mention Greg Fielden’s monstrous documentation of the sport’s history race by race, his multi-volume FORTY YEARS OF STOCK CAR RACING. Older books that offer solid and fascinating history include Kim Chapin’s regrettably forgotten FAST AS WHITE LIGHTNING, and SUPERSPEEDWAY: THE STORY OF NASCAR GRAND NATIONAL RACING by Richard Benyo, then of Stock Car Racing Magazine. The book covered the 1976 Winston Cup Grand National season as seen through eleven races that year and the history of the tracks and major participants involved, and getting it published proved difficult as NASCAR and others such as Bruton Smith voiced objections to some of what Benyo and his magazine had written.

Jack Flowers covered the sport in that period and has recently put forth a very slim volume, THE DIRT UNDER THE ASPHALT: AN UNDERGROUND HISTORY OF STOCK CAR RACING. Having read Flowers’ pieces in his years with the now-defunct Speedway Scene racing journal and more recently with National Speed Sport News, I don’t consider myself unfamiliar with Mr. Flowers and his takes on the sport. I believe I can say with certainty that Flowers combines a genuine love of the sport with a hard-nosed approach and a streak of contrarianism, which is refreshing and necessary in a media environment strikingly devoid of such in recent times.

At only 36 pages, the book is basically an extended newspaper-magazine piece. The term “Underground History” is an apt one as Flowers delves into the sport’s underside. He is clearly angry with how the sport has evolved and with things that have happened over the years, and with such anger he states his case on several issues covering the sport’s history. Now underground histories by definition are intended to present facts and assertions unflattering in their portrayal of their subjects, and as such carry a risk of being embarrassingly untrue. Indeed, some of the stories Flowers tells and relates might seem off-puttingly unbelievable, and the old saw about the author’s use of anonymous sources certainly comes into play when one reads the book.

Flowers to his credit does name sources in some of the incidents he relates, and it is helpful when he delves into his most damning accusation made – that drug money played an important role in NASCAR in the 1970s until the early 1990s, through several car owners who in the 1980s won Winston Cup titles and even bought into ownership of several tracks. It is an accusation that ties into a pet investigation of Flowers’ – that Brian France was a chronic addict who was checked into the Betty Ford Clinic and who had warrants for his arrest in several states because of this only to have his family bail him out of trouble but kick him upstairs to keep him out of trouble.

The accusation is eye-opening and one can say it isn’t believable. Yet the biggest problem here is, given the often-murky politics of NASCAR and the history of dubious characters who’ve participated in the sport, I’m not one who can say with certainty that Flowers is wrong. That Brian France is a drug addict or once was is an incendiary accusation; that he has turned off a lot of people, though, is not something to deny, and that his past has murkiness to it and his present has proven to be dubious enough that rumors of widespread dissatisfaction with his performance within the sanctioning body continue to circulate is also pretty clear. From my perspective, I simply don’t know with certainty to say Flowers is incorrect.

The car owners Flowers names are eye-opening enough, but he also puts out a couple of more recent team owners rumored to have been involved in contraband business, one of whom was a rising team owner in the 1990s before his effort collapsed and was later absorbed into another organization. Curiously, Flowers makes no mention of such less-than-savory characters as the Gardner Brothers, J.D. Stacy, Sam McMahon III, or Alex Meshkin, all of whom provide further proof of some of the dubious background of the sport.

Flowers is certainly, unquestioningly correct in taking NASCAR to task for its betrayal of people who’ve worked loyally with the body for years and decades, such as Robert Latford, who’d created the point system that NASCAR has used from 1975 onward – when Latford passed away the sanctioning body paid no notice. Flowers also attacks how the sanctioning body’s officials are paid, quoting the late Elmo Langley ripping the company through which NASCAR pays its officials – “It was a scam,” Langley acidly states.

Flowers also is cutting in noting the greed that has permeated NASCAR in recent years, asserting that Jim Foster was hung out to dry when a sponsor came on board the sanctioning body but wasn’t reported because Foster was pocketing the money himself.

Foster in particular comes under fire several times in the book, such as the story Flowers relates that Foster twisted the arm of Gene Granger and the editors of journals Granger wrote for – this over stories Granger wrote that weren’t flattering in their portrayal of NASCAR actions – to the point that Granger was denied credentials to cover races. It came when Granger wrote for Grand National Scene and the paper was an independent paper – before being sold and eventually merged into the sanctioning body’s orbit.

Flowers to his credit is not entirely negative, as he acknowledges the necessity of the sanctioning body being run as a dictatorship – when the city of Daytona questioned tax breaks the speedway and sanctioning body headquarters were getting, France Sr. threatened to leave the city – and the city, seeing that NASCAR was bringing in more than enough business to offset whatever taxes were not being levied, backed off. Flowers notes that France Sr. was a dictator, but was never too proud not to seek out the views of drivers, team owners, media types, etc. Flowers states that France Jr. did not do this, but I feel he is wrong in this instance, as France Jr. displayed a flexibility in leadership generally lacking today. Flowers is certainly correct with regard to Brian France’s tin ear.

There’s even a humorous chapter on storylines cited from actual drivers (with names withheld) for a potential NASCAR soap opera series – one such storyline involves “a four-time NASCAR champion” caught engaged in dubious activity with a young lady who identified herself as not what he thought she was. It is glaringly and hilariously obvious to whom Flowers is referring.

The term “thought-provoking” gets tossed about to an absurd level when reviewing books or movies and so forth, but for a book at only 36 pages, Jack Flowers packs in a lot that genuinely makes one think. NASCAR has long been in need of changes, and perhaps exposure from the likes of Jack Flowers will expedite some change.