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And That Was Fr'istol!
08/30/2016 David Nance |
During last Saturday night's
rain delay I muted the yammering filler on TV and turned to the Internet. There
I found an article on racing at Bristol that included the following quote from
AJ Allmendinger, heard on his team radio during the 2014 race:
"I freakin' hate this track, man. The moment I get it figured
out, is the moment it goes to ..."
You can figure out the rest.
But AJ's feelings toward the
high-banked half-mile immediately reminded me of a video racing session a few
years ago with my then four year old son when he uttered a term that perfectly
described nearly everything about the place.
Trying to build his interest
in the sport, we’d plugged in the Wii and set out to go racing. As it was
loading the tracks I asked him where were we were going today.
"Fr'istol Daddy! Let's race at Fr'istol"
I started to correct him but
stopped as I realized his innocent mispronunciation was a contraction that
described the East Tennessee track ideally and captures the essence that is
uniquely Bristol.
It's like Richard Petty's
trademark "Just a racing deal" but
very clear, concise and track specific… and depending on the inflection,
delivery and gestures it covers nearly every situation there.
For example, the night race
seventeen years ago ... after Dale Earnhardt spun Terry Labonte on the last lap
for the win, Dale didn't have to explain his actions by saying, "I was gonna get back to him and just
rattle his cage. I wasn't gonna wreck him. I got to him and just turned him
around."
Instead, all he really had to do was flash that Earnhardt grin, shrug and say "Well, that's Fr'istol" and
everyone would have understood his intentions perfectly.
Likewise, the spinnee on that
last lap incident could have used the same term as well to describe his
perspective. Terry Labonte could have easily said "I got to Dale and passed him coming off of
[Turn] 4. He hit me between [Turns] 1 and 2 and turned me around. That's when
all Fr'istol broke loose."
And all "Fr'istol" did break loose as the spinning Labonte collected
Mark Martin, Tony Stewart, Ricky Rudd and Sterling Marlin as the #3 went on to
take the checkered flag.
"Fr'istol" also perfectly describes the finish four years earlier as
Terry Labonte came spinning and crashing across the finish line after being
tagged by Earnhardt coming out of Turn 4 for the flag.
A video of the crash and the winner's mangled car limping and spewing into
Victory Lane with the caption, "That's
Fr'istol, Baby!" would have been a marketer's dream, creating the
ideal commercial for the night race for years to come.
But "Fr'istol" isn't limited to beating and banging on the high
banks. If you were there for the 2000 spring race you saw Johnny Benson's
dramatic drive from the back to come up a lap or two short of his first win.
You had to be there because if you weren't there you missed it all as
ESPN went FOX over those final laps, showing the race for ninth between the
Labonte brothers instead of that fantastic drive.
When interviewed as he
climbed from his car after his "where did he come from" finish,
Benson could have easily summed up his effort and just missing the win with an
exhausted, "Whew ...that's Fr'istol."
"Fr'istol"
describes the frustration found only there. If the term had been known
four years ago, nearby fans could probably have heard Tony Stewart yell a
gut-wrenching "Fr'istol!" over
the roar of the engines as he did his two-handed helmet chuck at Matt Kenseth's passing car.
The frightening side of the
World's Fastest Half-Mile comes out in the term. Hear a hushed "Fr'istol" as Michael Waltrip’s
and Mike Harmon's terrifying wrecks replay in your mind.
"Fr'istol"
describes the fan experience there as well. I recall my first trip there,
standing at the top of the backstretch stands. The high banks were
reminiscent of my boyhood tracks of Salem, IN and Nashville Fairgrounds.
The grandstands were mostly
concrete, the scoring stands were on a grassy bank outside Turn One, where the
Kulwicki Tower now stands and there were more Porta-Potties
around than there were fans at this year's Indy Cup race.
I was just tickled to be at a
Cup race and my reaction could be summed up with, "So…
I'm at Fr'istol"
Over the years, I made
several trips there and watched as the old facilities were taken down and the
new Coliseum rose in its place.
One of my last trips there
was with friend and new race fan, Jerry Wright. It was his first Cup race
and he looked at the magnificent monstrosity in slack-jawed amazement. If he
had broken his silence with "Wow!
That's Fr'istol" all I could have done was grin and nod in
agreement.
No better term could describe
the uncertainty of the weather there, especially during the spring races.
In 2006, Jerry and I became greatly concerned heading to the Busch
race when we passed snow plows sitting in the median with motors running
waiting to deal with what was to come ...
Instead of seeing cars racing
on the high banks, for a while we watched snowball fights, snow man building
and later snow angels, while shivering on the ice cold aluminum bleachers.
(Note: the crowd that day was
still probably larger than attendance at Friday night's Xfinity race.)
"Frfrfrfrfr'istol" said it all.
And Dave Rosenbaum, another
long time buddy of mine would have heard me utter "Aw
Fr'istol" under my breath as I grabbed my Race Pac to start
the mile and half walk to the track only to find the tickets were not in there
but right where I had left them - back on the dresser in our motel room in
Weaverville, NC some 85 miles away.
He never said a word, getting
mileage instead from silence. Waiting for the comment that never came was
worse than any comment he could have made!
The term "Fr'istol"
is timeless - still as relevant and applicable today as some of the examples
mentioned above (and more you have probably recalled as you read this).
In post-race interviews from
the wild overtime finish of Friday night's race, there were numerous drivers
who could have easily used "That's
Fr'istol" in their responses and we all would have known
exactly what they meant.
Austin Dillon's race win
elation, Justin Allgaier's near miss, Kyle Lawson and
Brad Keselowski's frustration, Kyle Busch's anger, Brendan Gaughan's
knock-down-the-walls excitement, Ty Dillion's "I
was just going for the win", Elliott Sadler's "Aw shucks I messed up" could
have all been summed up with their own versions of "Fr'istol".
And as the rain falls once
again on Saturday night's Cup race you can almost hear the crew members
muttering "Aw Fr'istol" as they
covered up the cars for the seemingly umpteenth time.
When the skies finally clear,
racing resumes and the laps are run, who and how they could have used the term
will unfold. I won't be able to write about it though. Somehow, during
the hustle and bustle of this August Sunday I missed the restart of the race.
When I finally found it on
some obscure NBC channel, Kevin Harvick, wife and crew were already in Victory
Lane near the close of the hat dance.
Oh well, that was Fr'istol!
