THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, July 21, 1996 TAG: 9607210197
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C7 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY BOB ZELLER, STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: LONG POND, PA. LENGTH: 86 lines
It's the most valuable ticket in the NASCAR Winston Cup series, and it's never for sale.
Every race weekend, however, an average of 2,990 people obtain this ticket. For the average fan fortunate enough to have the connections to get one, it provides the ultimate NASCAR experience.
It is the NASCAR Winston Cup garage pass.
Fans with a garage pass gain admission to the heart of the action. They get to see the cars, the crewmen and the drivers up close. It's noisy and exciting, and there are opportunities for autographs at almost every turn, even though the most popular drivers have become tough to find even in the garage.
NASCAR has often been called a dictatorship, and the dictator of garage passes is 67-year-old Bruce Roney, a former University of Florida fullback who joined NASCAR 10 years ago after more than 33 years with Eastern Air Lines.
NASCAR's top officials leave Roney alone because he does such a good job of administering the thousands of garage passes issued for each race.
Every weekend, Roney leaves his Blue Ridge Mountains home in Sparta, N.C., and heads to the races for four days of camaraderie and contentiousness. The best and worst part of his job are the people he meets.
But Roney's personality seems to have that perfect balance of benevolence and hard-edged steel so necessary for someone who needs to be able to say ``yes'' when appropriate but has to say ``no'' many times every weekend.
``It's difficult, because my policy is a positive policy,'' Roney said Saturday while signing people into the garage at Pocono Raceway. ``My first aim is to try to find a reasonable way to let a person into the garage. If a sponsor has a car in the garage and is spending a lot of money, you can't tell their people that they can't come in and see their car and driver.''
To get a garage pass, you have to be on the list. Actually, it's a notebook full of lists. Each team, each sponsor, each manufacturer's representative, each track and NASCAR itself has a list. These lists must be submitted to NASCAR by the Monday preceding a race.
Whatever the rules are for garage passes, the final decision rests with Roney. He can bend the rules if he wants, and it often comes down to what his instincts tell him.
At Sears Point this year, a man from the state of Washington showed up and said he was interested in sponsoring an underfunded team in the garage. Roney checked with the driver and decided the let the man have a pass.
``That driver came up to me later and thanked me and told me he thought it was going to work out good,'' Roney said.
But at another recent race, several people came up and said they would be involved in sponsoring a car next year.
``I knew they were fake when I first saw them,'' Roney said. ``But they did a pretty good job of it, I tell you.'' They still didn't get in.
``Bruce has an uncanny way of looking at people and knowing whether they're legitimate,'' said Linda Burdett, who works for NASCAR in the garage pass sign-in booth at about a dozen races a year. ``He can tell whether they're on the list even before they reach the counter.''
If someone argues, he's doomed. First and foremost, if someone argues with Bruce Roney, he's obviously an outsider because he doesn't know Roney - and doesn't know Roney well enough not to fight with him.
Roney, who is rarely seen without a cigar, may be the most genial of all the NASCAR officials. He always has a friendly word for everyone. He doesn't get mad unless someone gets mad at him. And when that happens, and he says ``no,'' then no amount of persuasion will change his mind.
What is his pet peeve?
``When I tell people `no' and they argue about it.''
The garage pass is 2 inches by 8 inches. Each week, it is a different color and bears a different letter or number. Roney decides each color and number, and he mixes them up. This is to make counterfeiting more difficult.
NASCAR prints all the passes itself, and to help foil those who would use such a method, garage passes now have the ``1996'' date embossed on the pass in silver glitter ink.
``I can see if it's a fake pass from 10 feet away,'' Roney said. ``You can't duplicate the color 100 percent right, and you can't get the thickness of the paper right. If we find them, we turn them over to the FBI.''
Roney, of course, has heard all the stories.
``Mostly, it's `So-and-so is my cousin,' or `My father works for GM.' And people will say that they're good friends with a driver, and the driver told them to come see them in the garage.''
If there's any question, Roney has the driver paged.
Some people, of course, will go to any length to break the rules.
``About three years ago, we found a boy at Talladega who was selling them outside the track at 30 bucks apiece,'' Roney said. ``He had gotten his pass legitimately on Friday and had gone out that night and duplicated it on a color copier. And people actually bought them.''
More often than not, the questions and issues regarding garage passes are settled right there at the sign-in booth when Roney says ``yes'' or ``no.'' by CNB