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- SPORT, Page 55Real-Life Days of Thunder
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- A Southern folkway no more, stock-car racing revs up nationally
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- By DAVID E. THIGPEN
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- Like many Americans, Rusty Wallace likes to take the car for
- a spin on a Sunday afternoon. But Wallace is hardly your
- typical Sunday driver out on a jaunt in the countryside.
- Helmeted, buckled up and clad in a fireproof jumpsuit, he
- averages about 150 m.p.h. in his 670-horsepower gold-on-black
- Pontiac and is usually hotly pursued by a roaring pack of
- heavily decaled Chevys, Fords and Chryslers. A Wallace outing,
- in short, is like a scene from the current Tom Cruise movie
- about stock-car racing, Days of Thunder. And no wonder: Wallace
- is the world-champion stock-car driver, and his weekend driving
- last year earned him six victories and a record $2.2 million.
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- Days of Thunder has focused new attention on an old sport
- that is undergoing rapid transformation. Once a passion solely
- for the male tank-top, tattoo and feed-cap set in the rural
- South, stock-car racing is now going nationwide and upscale.
- This year more than 3 million fans in 16 states from Florida
- to Michigan to California will attend 29 races staged by the
- National Association of Stock-Car Auto Racing. That is more
- spectators per event than is averaged by pro football and major
- league baseball combined. Nearly 40% of audience members are
- women, up from 25% eight years ago. Televised coverage of this
- year's Daytona 500, the biggest race of the nine-month
- circuit, drew a higher rating than the National Basketball
- Association play-offs.
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- All of which is a long way from stock-car racing's roots in
- moonshining. During the 1930s and '40s, drivers running corn
- whisky from backwoods stills to thirsty customers needed their
- cars to be a little lighter and quicker than the sheriff's in
- order to remain in business. Bootleggers like the legendary
- Junior Johnson of Ronda, N.C., took to tearing out the radios,
- door handles, glass and backseats from "stock" cars (i.e.,
- directly off showroom floors) and muscling up the engines in
- their own garages. Although Johnson had to take an enforced
- break from driving to serve a 10-month bootlegging sentence,
- his road skills won him 50 races on the NASCAR circuit. A cult
- developed around him and other cavalier drivers who flouted the
- law, pocketed good money, spit tobacco and always had great
- tales to tell.
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- But what was fascinating and colorful about stock-car racing
- also helped keep the sport provincial. "People used to think
- of stock-car driving as the kind of thing where you roll your
- cigarettes up in your sleeve and go out for a Saturday night
- bash-up," recalls Wallace, 33, whose fresh face suggests a
- fast-track Wall Street trainee rather than a fast-lane white
- knuckler. "The side of your car usually had something like
- JOE'S GARAGE on it."
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- Big advertisers were the first to notice the changing
- audience and begin pumping money into the sport. The $6 million
- aggregate winners' purse of a decade ago has ripened into a
- juicy $21 million. Racing teams now have 30 full-time employees
- and budgets of $2 million a year. Four drivers besides Wallace
- topped $1 million in earnings last year, a record. The profits
- have helped expand the circuit. A $30 million track has just
- opened in Loudon, N.H., and others are planned for Palm
- Springs, Calif., and Albuquerque. Improved engine technology
- and better drivers have pushed straightaway speeds over 210
- m.p.h., making stock-car racing one of the most fast-moving and
- dangerous sports in the world. Daredevil driving aces like
- Wallace, Richard Petty and Dale Earnhardt think nothing of
- going bumper-to-bumper while hurtling down the speedway at
- upwards of three miles a minute.
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- Fans gladly pay anywhere from $3 to $63 for an afternoon of
- racing, which, as in the sport's earlier days, often entails
- lawn chairs, coolers and daylong family picnics on the track
- infield. "Going to a race is like going to a carnival," says
- Michael Daly, 24, a grocery bagger from Wakefield, Mass. "You
- can get passes to pit row before the start and meet the drivers
- and the crews. Try getting them to let you into the locker room
- at a football game." Karen Caywood, 34, a housewife in Mount
- Sterling, Ky., attends four to six races a year with her
- husband and daughter. "I don't come to see any bang-up
- crashes," she says. "I like the close racing and the battle of
- those guys trying to get around each other at 180 m.p.h. In
- baseball and football it's two teams against each other, but
- out here it's one driver against 40 others. And the cars look
- just like the ones people come to the track in." Well, yes.
- Sort of the way the spectators look just like Tom Cruise.
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