2/7/03

Photo by Jeff Burk

OF LATE I THINK OF DONALD TRUMP

can hear the squeaking of the bats in my belfry, a barroom of I-told-you-so's, the wilting Cheshire Cat grins from people who always knew I'd come around.

"Well, it took 55 years, but by God, you've grown up, Martin. Got your priorities straight, eh kid? Tossed those old protest buttons in the lake, donned a suit and tie and got down to business. Well, there's always room for one more."

One more what, you ask?

Well, it's a long story that I'll try to keep some what brief, but I did something this past January that is very uncharacteristic of me ... I played a somewhat significant role in closing a race car sponsorship deal worth $1.5 million dollars.

You read right. Me, the anti-capitalist, the screamer for the heads of Bush and his cabinet of criminals, got his hands dirty in the world of high finance. However, before you cancel my subscription to Z magazine, hear me out. I was just sitting alone by myself, living on $500 a month, and wondering what shape the featureless future would take for me when I received a phone call.

If I remember right, it was late in November when my old pal Mickey Winters of "Bad Moon Rising" Alcohol Funny Car fame, rang me up. After the usual exchange of felony information, he asked me if I'd like to become a public relations guy for a team that was going to field both a NASCAR Craftsman Truck and an NHRA Top Fuel Dragster. I asked who and what, and how realistic was he being about said venture, a venture that would cost-a-plenty, to say the least.

I told him that given my current financial state I'd be a towel boy in a gay bath house if the money was right. Then I quickly followed with the obvious, "Who's going to pay for this?"

It turned out that a former World Karting Association champ, one Kenneth Cook, was negotiating with a big high end guy in the dot-com field, and that he needed help in putting together a written presentation towards getting this guy to back them. What I was to do was put together a booklet identifying the team, its members, the kind of exposure a sponsor would get by racing NASCAR and NHRA, the kind of crowds that watch the race, the television and media exposure, what it would cost ... basically a race car sponsorship proposal. Not only was I to do that, but I had to write it in such a way that if the guy decided to pass that we could use it with another prospective sponsor.

I'd never written anything like that before. I was a glorified track reporter and feature writer, I only had the vaguest notion of what to do. In my years at National Dragster, I had read a lot of press kits and knew what I liked and didn't like, but other than that I had never written up a spectacular bid.

I told Mickey I'd give it a shot, but inside I didn't really feel we had much of a chance given the wretched state of the economy. It's always difficult to find a sponsor -- just look at the pitiful shape the NHRA nitro fields are in. About a half dozen teams in both Top Fuel and Funny Car have strong backing with the remainder just getting by. Add the two together and my task was daunting to put it mildly.

Fortunately, the plan Cook, Winters, and team boss Bill Harden had was that we'd go land the NASCAR deal if we could and then, off of that success, sign on a couple of chomping-at-the-bit associates to back the Top Fuel dragster. The pitch overall was that the sponsor would get exposed to the two most successful outlets in auto racing. On paper, it looked to be a good idea, double your pleasure, double your fun.

Cook and I talked shortly after the Winters conversation and I set him up with some NHRA and NASCAR press materials. While Cook had enough energy to light the lamps of Fort Worth, he did not feel comfortable writing and echoed Winters' offer of a PR job. So serious was he that he declared Harden would pick up my plane fare and booze bill when I arrived in Dallas.

To greatly edit things, I flew to the Dallas area and spent from roughly January 10th to January 25th putting together my first sponsor proposal. I got to meet the potential backer for a lunch and handed the works over to him, and to edit things even further, he liked the deal and signed.

The art of the deal. My head began to swim. First try and we're up a million and a half dollars. Cook and company are going racing, and like the little "Shake n' Bake" girl, I helped. Millions of kingmakers are scrambling for sawdust and the Heartbreak Kid goes Donald Trump on everyone.

Okay, back to Earth. The real hustlers in this deal were Harden and Cook, but damn, how many racers start out the year with similar dreams and wind up like little trains that couldn't. Sure, there was luck in this, but hell, the kid's back is to the ropes and he lands a haymaker.

Like almost all of these situations, I can't reveal the name of the backer, and that used to piss me off when I worked at National Dragster. This cloak and dagger, top secret jazz. Oy vey. However, the sad truth in all auto racing is that most racers will sell their little sisters into white slavery for a sponsor. Stealing away a sponsor from a competitor is as common as lies from the White House.

I'll tell you what, though. Within the framework of my regular duties at DragRacingOnline.com, I'll let you know how the rest of this unfolds.

And the moral of this story. I still am anti-capitalist, anti-establishment and all the rest of it, but I performed these duties just to show people how truly easy it is to put a deal together.

Nah. . .even I don't believe that.

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