[Jerry Shaw]

As we settled into our seats on the turn one hillside, the scene was set. The pits were overflowing with sprint cars. The temperature had barely made to eighty. There was hardly a cloud in the sky. When the competitors rolled out onto the racing surface for wheel pack, perhaps the best moving, living picture postcard in motorsports was complete. At the center of the portrait is the beautiful red clay of Bloomington Speedway. It is without peer, in how it strikes the eye. Moving counter-clockwise throughout the centerpiece of this picture were the stunning, clean, shiny and brightly-colored racing machines. Above was the crystal blue sky. In the backdrop, the green Indiana forest, trimmed with trees that were starting to turn. In front of that, the multitude of trailers, from ornate to generic, who’s race teams were milling about, doing the things that are necessary to put these machines on the track. It’s hard not to be overcome by and mesmerized by the esthetics of this old track. But, as relaxing as that might be, when the green is dropped for the first hot lap session, you’re rattled back into the here and now, by the screaming thunder of those same racing machines, who are now flying around these high banks, losing their shine, as they are being dotted with pieces of this red race track. And the rush is completed by the rumble in your chest and the slight burn in your eyes and nose, caused by the methanol that propels these guys around this circuit. So, you’ve been on a roller coaster ride, all while frozen in your tracks, standing on a Hoosier hillside. And the racing hasn’t even started yet.

During the lulls in the wheel pack/hot lap part of the program and in the time space leading up to the pre-race ceremonies, are some of my favorite parts of an evening at Bloomington Speedway. That’s the time when all of the race fans are arriving or have arrived and are walking around, greeting their Bloomington race family members. They are all genuinely glad to see you and would rather be no other place in the World. The only problem is that you always leave the place remembering the people that you just didn’t get a chance to say “hi” to. It’s such a tight knit place and there are just that many of them. It’s like the “Cheers” of race tracks.

Bloomington Speedway’s pre-race ceremonies have always had a personal touch about them. Chuck Welsh set a very high standard in this area and Pat Sullivan has followed in his footsteps very well. This show’s invocation was done by Butch Wilkerson. Not only was Butch a great sprint car driver, but he’s also a World class storyteller. You just have to listen to what ever the guy is saying. And this wasn’t your generic, canned track invocation, either. It’s was a real racer’s prayer and it really kicked the show off nicely. And then, during the National Anthem, something happened that has become a Bloomington Speedway tradition. Right after the Star Spangled Banner got underway, here they came. Our flock of Canada Geese, in a perfect V-formation. This fly over has happened every year now, for quite a while, about this time of the racing season and it is no coincidence, IMO. Mother Nature sends her messengers every year, to tell us that another racing season is drawing to a close. And it always puts a lump in my throat. Because, even though I already knew the racing season will be over soon, just as sure as the turning leaves signal the end of summer, this is always a stark visual reminder of that.

Once the festivities were over and the racing was set to begin, a harsh reality set in. There were sixty-five cars in the house on this night. The competition would be fierce. One slip up and you probably wouldn’t get a chance to atone for it. Many of racing’s best would go home as an “also ran”, with six ten to eleven car heats that took two, a seventeen car C-Main that took four and two twenty car B-Mains that took two. The list of drivers who didn’t make it read like the roster of a feature that most race fans would pay top dollar and drive many miles to see.

Once the green was dropped, local track ace Danny Holtsclaw was the first to be bitten by the bad luck bug, as he was caught up in a first lap mess, caused by another racer’s ill handling car. After stopping to avoid this, he then went to the back and joined Shane Cottle in his tear through the field. This run from the back to Top 5, by these two drivers, provided the race’s third best highlight. The second was turned in by Bobby Stines. Although outgunned by the top national-level teams that this field was loaded with, Stines would take the #9T Hurst Sprinter from a B-Main transfer spot, to a podium finish. He was tough as nails, all evening long. The headline act was the battle between Jon Stanbrough in the Foxco #53 and the familiar Dynamics, Inc. #69, driven by Jerry Coons, Jr. Stanbrough shredded the part of the field that started in front of him, in much the same fashion as he did in his heat race and started to check out. Until Coons, Jr. cleared those same cars and set sail for the leader, that is. He caught him, but never could get around him. The cushion was getting even more hazardous in the latter stages of the race. You could just tell by the way Jon was attacking it despite this fact, he just wasn’t going to lose this race. And he didn’t.

So, as we were leaving the track, stoked by the program we had just witnessed, I was reminded of two things I’m always reminded of when I leave this place. First off, if you’re at the and of an aisle and need to get in to the main flow of traffic out of the track, somebody will flash their lights and let you in. They always do. It’s just how the people are in that part of the state. Second is that after each race there, because I have spent my entire evening walking across, up and down the hill, I remember that I have an appreciation for what roofers do and what they put their ankles and feet though, on a daily basis. Small price to pay though, for another night on the hill at Bloomington Speedway.

Jerry

[Great Scott]

An awesome post Jerry. It captures the essance of going to Bloomington Speedway each and every Friday night.

[SpfldMile]

You paint a very nice picture, Jerry. Someday I'll have to check out that red clay.

[Al Pierce]

Gosh Jerry, I feel like I was there....Oh wait, I was.

Bloomington is noted for good shows and this was no exception. I'm always happy when the #53 is in Victory Lane. We stayed overnight in the field before heading to TriState for another great night of racing and the rain held off perfectly. An outstanding weekend of sprint car racing.

[Mud Packer]

Nice post Jerry. Makes me feel like I was right there with you watching a great evening of racing.

[Danny Burton]

Fine job, Jerry. But roofers aren't the only ones who carry loads and sometimes climb hills while doing it. Oh, and there are very few 58 year old roofers. :2:

That sums up the Bloomington we all know and love.

[Panama]

Perfectly describes what I saw and felt, only much much better, than I could say it.
I did love the fly over!

You couldn't have said that any better, it was a great night on friday with all those great machines out there. Great post Jerry, heres to you

[Danny Burton]

Originally Posted by Panama Perfectly describes what I saw and felt, only much much better, than I could say it. I did love the fly over!

I'd better mention that another highlight of the night was meeting Chris, a nice young man if there ever was one.

[Redwood17257]

Indeed Jerry, a second, third and fourth of the fact that you do a wonderful job of describing what makes the red clay such a special place to be. Alas, as a sports writer, I wasn't able to attend Bloomington on Friday due to high school football in Brazil, but I identified with so much that you eloquently expressed. Bloomington has such a history and a wonder to it if you simply walk around and listen to the stories from veterans in the stands and in the pits. The sixty-five sprints in the pits says a lot because a lot of $5,000 to win shows don't draw half that many. Everybody there knows what it means to win at Bloomington. Legends were nurtured there....

Thanks Jerry for the story,

Carey Fox