A “Field Filler’s” Story
Much has been written in recent weeks about the short fields for the Nextel Cup Series. One of the most insightful articles is by Tom Bowles who writes for Stock Car City (Field Filler Maddness: and the rich get richer). He documents the Andy Hillenberg incident at Darlington and the justifiable rage of Jeff Gordon after being caught up in the carnage. He traces the short fields in the Cup Series to multi car teams and oddly enough Nextel itself.
Andy Belmont has been a top-10 ARCA RE/MAX Series point finisher in 5 consecutive seasons (98-02) and was one of the “field fillers” at Darlington. He gives his side of the story as he drives home from “The Lady in Black.”
Source: ARCA Racing
It’s a relatively clear night. The wind is blowing real hard and the motor home is rocking the guys to sleep. They are worn out.
The product of early mornings and late nights, travel back and forth between the two race shops and everything in between.
Rolling out of Darlington County, the fans look like they are all enjoying the rush to get home for another day’s work. There is no doubt that plenty of hops have been consumed. The souvenir vendors are slowly breaking down for another day.
The moon is glowing the highway, much like the ocean. It is peaceful and a quiet time to reflect. The radio is silent. The wind whistles across the mirrors and the buzz of the diesel and a snoring crew are the only sounds available. No commercials or cell phones. Just basic quiet.
The tree tops are starting to reveal a burnt orange. We’ve seen this sunrise on a thousand trips home from the race track. Tail lights start to pepper the highway. The new work week has started.
How do we improve? Short of the armored car making a deposit on the racing account, we have to be better at our salesmanship. Funding will help our weary personnel as we can add more employees. Better motors will help us down the straight-away and we could mount more tires. Confidence is rocked a little. You can’t hide our lack of horsepower and you can’t hide at Darlington. The track is so narrow. We were a second and a half under the minimum speed most of the time. Pinching the car to the bottom and racing out the rear view mirror so as to not screw up anyone’s corner entry is a hateful way to race. Faster cars come by so hard it peels the decals off. It is frustrating. We have fair equipment, so-so motors and great people. We need to step up the budget, it is that simple.
The sun is shining bright. Lower the sun visors and get out the sunglasses. Lost my designer shades a long time ago. Got my new ones where I got my reading specs, the optical department at the dollar store. Trying to emerge from a field filler and earn our way to a “Struggling independent,” that would be a step forward. They threw rocks at Columbus too. He was crazy for not believing the world was flat. I guess a select few of us are crazy for similar reasons.
The parade lap was different. Being introduced in a new Rumble Bee. What a concept! There is one in front of us, my good friend waves at the crowd. If they only knew just how difficult this is. It’s early in the race day but no doubt late in the drinking day. A race fan screams are you racing to be the first one out? Made me think. Well, no, we mounted ten sets of tires. Must be the alcohol talking?
The driver of the 24 comes by to a chorus of boo’s from the audience. Never will understand that.
Couple drivers provided a single digit salute. In light of the FCC regulations and the policing of our radio chatter, it will only be a matter of time before such gestures will draw a fine. Ah, I’m allergic to Tide anyway. The other one is accepted as business as usual. It ain’t the first time. Won’t be the last. Hard racer’s are emotional. Frankly, understanding the whole thing as it unfolds is pretty simple. It will change. The same home improvement car that saluted us, dumps my buddy. Anger management? Try paxil.
One of the superstars slams my buddy in the door, a hard hit. Kills the race car. An already struggling program takes a devastating blow. Nobody plans on destroying a car, particularly when it is the only one you have that passes tech inspection. No spare in the hauler and no personnel “at the shop” building new ones. A one person march to rid the track of the slower cars. Sir Richard The King never raced that way or if he did, it wasn’t viewed and reviewed by such mass. We got away from the orange predator for this time. He gave it a valiant effort. Take it to the bank, my time is coming.
Pretty soon the cars wont have a technical inspection. Teams will have to provide a checking account balance before being permitted to race. It’s getting there. The number of car owners gets smaller and smaller. The major teams get bigger and bigger. The CART example didn’t work did it?
Man I am tired. Two diet mountain dew’s and a stacker. Can’t sleep tonight, got to get home. Missed getting the kids off to school, went straight to work. Got to order more stackers for these long trips through the night. Mail order can still net you a real jolt with ephedra.
Paid six figures for this motor home. More than I spent to race in many seasons. Still can’t help but feel like the Clampett’s down at our end of the bus corral.
Andy Belmont
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