by Bhavesh Jinadra by CNB
Roanoke Times Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc. DATE: SUNDAY, April 18, 1993 TAG: 9304180106 SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C8 EDITION: METRO SOURCE: BOB ZELLER DATELINE: NORTH WILKESBORO, N.C. LENGTH: Medium
BRICKYARD, HOOTERS AND THE BUSINESS OF RACING
After Ricky Rudd took a swing at Brett Bodine on Friday in the Winston Cup garage, it didn't take long for someone in the stock car racing media corps to suggest that perhaps they should duke it out for ownership of Alan Kulwicki Racing Inc.Both drivers, as well as Brett's older brother, Geoff, are interested in buying the late Winston Cup champion's racing team.
As strong as emotions have been lately in Winston Cup racing, the suggestion at least fit the tenor of the times.
The Rudd-Bodine tiff was based solely on a racing incident at Bristol two weeks ago.
But emotions run high off the track, too. And there were no better examples of that than the two big NASCAR stories of the week - the withdrawal on Monday of Hooters as sponsor of the Kulwicki team and the announcement two days later of the Brickyard 400 stock-car race planned for next year at Indianapolis Motor Speedway.
The Hooters story was as bad as the Indy story was good. There were no winners Monday and no losers Wednesday.
The Hooters episode showed how quickly animosities can sprout from an emotion-charged tragedy. And the Indy announcement showed that when ill will finds a niche, it can take decades for good, common sense to prevail.
It is hard to blame anyone in the Hooters matter. Everyone involved still is reeling from the death of Kulwicki and three Hooters employees in an April 1 plane crash near Bristol. At the same time, no one was well-served by the withdrawal.
But who can blame Hooters CEO Robert Brooks for pulling out? He lost a big part of his world in that plane crash, including his son, Mark.
Then he discovered that after pouring millions of dollars into Kulwicki Racing, he had no control over what was left of the team and no voice in its future.
"We didn't have any good options," Hooters spokesman Mike McNeil said last week. "They told us, `We don't know who the new owners are going to be. We don't know who the new driver will be. We don't know which team members are still going to be there. But, Mr. Brooks, we want you to continue to be the sponsor.'
"From a business standpoint, that is not a very logical thing to do. And from an emotional standpoint, if anybody has a right to take a couple of steps back from Winston Cup racing and take a breath, it's Bob Brooks."
At the same time, who can blame Felix Sabates for being upset? He was one of Kulwicki's closest friends and is the executor of his estate. Sabates is neglecting his other businesses to handle the estate for Kulwicki's father, Gerald.
Sabates and many fans feel that Hooters abandoned the team in its time of greatest need.
On top of that, the team "would have been worth a lot more money if Hooters had stayed in" - perhaps $2 million or more, Sabates said.
The only real mistake by Sabates was his heavy-handed reaction to the withdrawal. The press release Sabates issued after the Hooters announcement dripped with hostility. It ended with a needless back-handed slap noting that the plane that crashed "was owned and licensed by Mr. Robert Brooks."
Afterward, Sabates and Brooks agreed on one thing: This matter was strictly business.
But so much emotion was involved that no room remained for the measured, patient, careful thinking normally associated with business decisions.
In fact, the only level-headed business decision of the week was the agreement between NASCAR president Bill France Jr. and Indianapolis Motor Speedway president Tony George to bring stock car racing to the brickyard on Aug. 6, 1994.
This was common sense finally prevailing over ill-conceived tradition and the jealousies and hostilities of another generation.
Forty years ago, there was no love lost between Indy and the upstart NASCAR circuit. NASCAR liked to prick Indy in the 1950s by scheduling races to conflict with the Memorial Day weekend classic. Indy once got its revenge when officials kicked the late Bill France, NASCAR's founder, off the premises.
While some of Indy's old railbirds might not like the idea of a stock-car race at the shrine of American auto racing, not having a stock-car race there made even less sense.
"For a permanent facility to survive in the future, it's going to have to have multiple events and major events," George said in 1992.
George is to be commended for the vision to look past the tradition-induced "self-imposed limitation" of his grandfather, Tony Hulman, to have only one race a year at Indy.
"He's taken a hell of a step to bring NASCAR to Indy," Dale Earnhardt said Saturday at North Wilkesboro Speedway. "He's got a lot of pressure on him."
But whatever pressure George faces, his decision undoubtedly will be as good for the sport as it will be for the speedway's bottom line.