THRASH, THRASH, THRASH
(...AS THE STOOGES SERENADE)

9/8/03

just got back from the historic 50th Annual World Series of Drag Racing at equally historic Cordova Dragway Park, by the Mississippi River, just up the road from Port Byron, Illinois, and a stone's throw from the Quad Cities area (Bettendorf, et al). On hand, as usual to cover the World Series, I got the chance to travel back in time to some of my earlier racing roots. Once again, Drag Racing Online presented a Quick 8 eliminator as part of the World Series show, and even entered a Team DRO car as well. My activity in relation to said Team DRO car was a trip, and sent me tripping to the "old" days when I used to "help out" on cars that were racing at good old Kansas City International Raceway.

Stoogin,' they called it, then and now. Anyone who has stooged knows what that means. For those who haven't, it involves doing those tasks that the skilled members of pit crews don't have time for. In the old days before billet heads, that meant fetching water to cool the iron cylinder heads. Other tasks included removing hot exhaust headers, making trips to the Goodyear tire tent, finding the resident welder for quick repair jobs, and rounding up a support vehicle since virtually nobody brought one with them in those days. Once you had your driver's license, you could even provide the support vehicle yourself -- a sure ticket to the starting line!

Keep in mind, the days I'm speaking of were the heydays of the match race scene. If you stooged at a track that booked a lot of shows, you could get halfway known by the traveling pros who stopped by. They might not remember your name, mind you, but they could usually remember your skill level, or lack thereof. I got good enough to do some bottom end work, and did some tear down work on motors that got blown up by some fairly famous Funny Car stars. I got paid in T-shirts, when they had them, great story material for Mondays at school when they didn't.

Fast forward to now, 2003, and the Big 50 Show at Cordova. Dave Koehler and family had decided to bring the infamous Nuclear Banana dragster to the World Series and try to make the DRO Quick 8 field. The NB is a 200-inch front-motored dragster powered by a blown big-block Chevy hooked up to a Powerglide transmission. It gets raced infrequently, due to Dave's business commitments and his desire to keep his family housed and well fed. For better or worse, Dave gets most of his help at his World Series appearances from me and the Editor of this book, Jeff Burk. Make no mistake, Dave does all the prep work prior to arriving at the track. The Burk and Leonard factors don't become a part of the mix until the NB comes out of the box. Once it does, we get to stoogin'!

Unload the car -- get it up on jacks -- charge the batteries -- put in some fuel - all the usual stooge chores. Meanwhile, DK is checking out the mechanical details of the engine and trans, and getting ready to warm up the motor. When ready, JB hooks up the snout starter, throws some gasoline down the throat of the injector, and DK hits the starter switch. When the engine is lit, JL pulls the battery connection from its receptacle and starts looking for leaks. No leaks found, but DK, JB and JL all notice the motor getting really hot, really fast. So it's hit the kill switch and find the problem. Make a jet change, check the plugs, be sure the fuel is turned on and fire it up again. Much better this time, and the car's bark attracts a good crowd of interested observers. So far, so good.

Did I mention this car doesn't get raced as often as we would like? Therein folks, lies the rub. Without frequency, car or crew can achieve no consistency. Regardless of what it is you are trying to do, you can't do it well without practice. Not making an excuse, just stating a fact. At any rate, Team DRO would bear stark testimony to the truth of this truism during qualifying. Rather than give you a blow-by-blow account of what happened, and the mistakes that were made, let me just say this. After two qualifying attempts, two hard-to-start episodes, two wheel stands, an improving but persistent fuel leak, two bent front wheels and a tough 7.15 bump spot, Team DRO was on the outside looking in. That, my friends is drag racing!

But what I remember most about my time on the starting line with Dave and the Nuclear Banana is how narrow my focus got while trying to start the car. When the clock is ticking, and the starter motor is grinding, and Taz the track official is looking at his watch, a fella does feel the pressure. Throw in a few thousand pairs of watching eyes, and you can feel very alone, very quickly. With my focus so squarely fixed on the Nuclear Banana, I couldn't even tell you who we ran. I had to look at the round sheets to give myself a clue!

But despite all the problems we ran into, I can hardly wait to do it again. I am looking forward to putting together a test session for the Nuclear Banana, so maybe Team DRO can give a better account of itself somewhere down the road. I am even still committed to fielding my own car, at some time in the near future (I hope!). My travails at the World Series have given me a better idea of just how far I have to go, and a glimmer of an insight into what I have to learn to make that happen. In short, nobody got hurt, the car didn't suffer unduly, and nobody's been cut out of the will - yet! As a way to spend a weekend, I highly recommend it! Now if we can just qualify next time out, that would be really bitchin'!! Later!!

leonard@dragracingonline.com