ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1996, Roanoke Times
DATE: Sunday, November 10, 1996 TAG: 9611120023
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C-1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: BOB ZELLER STAFF WRITER
The location didn't bother Chris Economaki. Standing out there in the middle of the trioval at Daytona International Speedway, exposed to whatever automotive carnage might come careening his way, was not a problem.
Chris Economaki's problem was the cable-puller.
He should have recognized the greater threat. Economaki and the cable puller - some crusty old New Yorker - were literally right in the middle of things in the grass between pit road and the track. If ever there was a NASCAR no man's land, this was it.
Except this was 1961, and everyone was too naive to recognize the danger.
``That was the basis for a camera position: a card table on the grassy section between pit road and the track,'' Economaki said. ``There was a guy sitting there at the card table with a box in front of him that had dials on it.''
Economaki was there, too, with his black-framed glasses and his New York accent and his blunt style of questioning.
And there was the cable-puller, an aging union technician who had pulled rank with his seniority and landed the Florida-in-February job. Didn't give a damn about racing. Just wanted to get away from the cold for a few days.
These were the earliest days of stock car racing on television. This was ABC's ``Wide World of Sports,'' but it might as well have been ``Wild World of Sports.'' It was simple. It might even have been considered crude, but it helped get today's middle-aged generation of Americans hooked on NASCAR.
At 12:30 p.m. today, when ESPN televises the NAPA 500 from Atlanta Motor Speedway in Hampton, Ga., and the final chapter of the 1996 Winston Cup championship battle unfolds, it will be a far different telecast.
The televised painting on the canvas of your television set will be the creation of Neil Goldberg and a team of almost 100 camera operators, spotters, producers, technicians and announcers.
``We've got a lot of racing people in here,'' Goldberg said. ``We've taken a lot of racing people and taught them television instead of taking TV people and trying to teach them racing.''
And it shows. This spring, ESPN won the Sports Emmy Award for an outstanding live series for the second time. The standard-bearer in that category - the show to beat - is ABC's ``Monday Night Football.''
Broadcasting standards raised
Thirty-six years ago, the standard was pretty low.
On Jan.31, 1960, CBS took the bold step of scheduling a two-hour live telecast from Daytona for ``CBS Sports Spectacular.'' The plan was to televise two Grand National (now Winston Cup) pole-position races and two compact-car races. One of the announcers was none other than Walter Cronkite.
The reviews were horrendous. As entertainment, it was a disaster. NASCAR's founder, Bill France, was furious. ``They didn't know which way the cars were going,'' he growled, using one of his favorite expressions.
So when ABC approached France about televising the 1961 Daytona 500, he insisted on giving them his own announcer, someone who knew the sport: Chris Economaki.
Economaki was standing in the grass of the trioval on about the 12th lap of the 1961 Daytona 500 when Fireball Roberts peeled off turn 4 and headed for the pits.
``Let's go,'' Economaki told the cable-puller, ready to hike back across pit road.
``But there's a car coming,'' the cable-puller replied.
``Yeah,'' Economaki said. ``That's where we're going.''
As Economaki recalled, it was a couple of years before he moved out of the trioval grass to a safer position.
``It was a crazy place to be,'' he said. ``But in those days, nobody had spun in that area yet.''
Eventually, no less than ``The King'' himself, Richard Petty, slid through the trioval grass on his way into the infield fence. By 1972, when Walter Ballard flipped his car through the trioval, taking huge divots as his car went end over end, it was obvious this was not the place to be for a television crew, union or non-union.
The technology of televised auto races has advanced to the point that camera positions are routinely located in the most precarious positions possible.
There are roof cams, bumper cams and dog cams (which stick out the side window). There are crew cams, helmet cams, right-front wheel cams, foot cams and track cams. Today, seven in-car cameras will be used.
Sometimes, in the name of capturing the action, a camera will be sacrificed.
``We had one at Sears Point where a car lifted off and went over the barrier and took the camera with it,'' says ESPN announcer Dr. Jerry Punch. ``We've had roof cams where cars tumbled that were just shredded. There have been track-side cameras, what we call `speed shot' cameras. A few of those have been wiped out.
``But those are the best shots.''
Viewer benefits from juggling act
It is not just the variety of remote camera shots that have made ESPN's auto racing telecasts sparkle.
``ESPN knew how to let people run with something and take risks,'' Goldberg said. ``And that whole philosophy has just grown with us. This whole team relies on one another. The input I get from a $50-a-day spotter is equally important to that of a higher-priced associate producer. And we rarely second-guess that information.''
At the track, Goldberg sits in the first seat in front of 69 television screens in the production booth, which is located outside the track.
During a race, the production booth is a picture of loosely controlled chaos, with nine people shouting commands and countdowns, suggestions and requests.
If you've ever wondered how an announcer such as ESPN's Bob Jenkins can talk while Goldberg or director Mike Wells is simultaneously giving directions in his ear, consider that Goldberg also is juggling about four different things at any given moment.
During this year's Pepsi 400 on July 6 at Daytona, Goldberg was asking his pit reporters about upcoming stops while making plans for the next commercial break and reminding the announcers about something or other. Suddenly, he noticed on one of those 69 monitors spread before him that one of the back-markers, Bobby Hillin, appeared to be having trouble on the track.
He called for a camera on Hillin's car moments before it barely avoided a collision with Brett Bodine while trying to get to the pits.
Moments like those give Goldberg an adrenaline rush. And they can make the difference in a telecast, especially when the race is dull.
Just about every member of the ESPN team is expected to be able to perform multiple tasks simultaneously.
``While the cameraman is panning his camera to follow a group of cars through the turn, he is watching the other way,'' Goldberg said. ``Once he locks on that camera, he is following through the viewfinder, but he is standing back away from it and watching the rest of the field, as well. So if something happens, boom, he goes to it.
``Bill Elliott's crash at Talladega is a perfect example. That happened too quick for our spotter to alert the cameraman. But you see that camera lens snap out and move in and Bill Elliott starts to get airborne. He got that because he was literally watching something else while his camera was on the air.''
``And it was a beautiful move, too,'' said director Mike Wells, who works side-by-side with Goldberg in the production booth. ``It wasn't one of those shaky ones. It was there, right in. And the focus remained perfect.''
In the broadcast booth, analysts Benny Parsons and Ned Jarrett, both former NASCAR champions, tend to specialize in their commentary.
``When we have cameras underneath the car that show working parts, I'll admit right quick that Benny is much better at knowing what those parts are and what they do,'' Jarrett said. ``Benny's long suit has been the technical side of it. I am more adept with keeping up with what is going on on the race track.
``I keep a stopwatch in my hands at all times. Benny doesn't. I know who's gaining or losing most of the time. That's just a thing with me. I can learn more watching the cars on a Saturday afternoon during happy hour [final practice] than just about any other time.''
Becoming a legitimate sport
Today's NASCAR is a far cry from the early days, when racing shared the spotlight with barrel jumping and ice skating on ``Wide World,'' and was widely viewed as a novelty sport of the South.
``I think what television has done is to help legitimize racing,'' Economaki said. ``For many years, racing was looked down upon by big-city people exposed to big-city sportswriters who thought of racers as a bunch of hot rodders trying to kill themselves who had grease under their fingernails and an oily rag in their pocket.
``That image has now gone away and racing is acceptable. As more and more top-level companies find racing to their liking, when a CEO decides he likes auto racing, you can't imagine how many subordinates decide that they like it, too. And some really develop a love of the sport.''
But Economaki, who has retired from television for the most part, said televised racing is sorely lacking in some respects. Television tends to coddle the sport far too much these days, he said.
``The phrase `make contact,' sickens me,'' Economaki said. ``American language is full of action verbs. But nobody `hits' anybody anymore. Nobody `rams' anybody. Nobody `crunches.' They all `make contact.' It's very lame, very bland. And nobody can fault you.''
Of course, as Economaki sees it, announcers tend to avoid casting blame, anyway.
``There are no questions being asked,'' he said. ``None of these guys want to ask, `When did you stop beating your wife?'''
A prime example was when Dale Earnhardt ``made contact'' with Bobby Hamilton during the Rockingham, N.C., race Feb. 25.
Afterward, ``nobody asked Earnhardt why he ran into Hamilton,'' Economaki said. ``It was the talk of the town that week. But nobody asked. I asked questions. I didn't make statements.''
In the final analysis, however, Economaki gives ESPN a ``high percentage'' of the credit for changing the perception of the sport to a point where it is considered the equal of the football and basketball games it will compete with today on the tube.
``Auto racing has become legitimate,'' Economaki said. ``That, to me, is the most significant step over the years. It is no longer a down-at-the-heels sport.''
LENGTH: Long : 190 lines ILLUSTRATION: PHOTO: DON PETERSEN\Staff. 1. ESPN production booths haveby CNBbecome staples at the track since television began taking a serious
interest in a lively, smooth NASCAR broadcast. color. 2. Cameras on
cars, like the one shown on the right front fender above, give
viewers a different perspective of racing. Television broadcasts
depend on exciting footage provided by cameras placed on bumpers,
roofs, doors and undercarriages of cars. 3. (headshot) Economaki. KEYWORDS: AUTO RACING