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Denied at Daytona
A MOMENT IN THE SUN
For a brief moment, I basked in the sunshine, stood on top of the mountain and surveyed the world below.
Until I was knocked back to earth.
In November last year I was notified that I was being granted access to cover the testing sessions at Daytona International Speedway.
So there I was last month, entering the gates of what I consider my home track, not as a fan, but as a reporter, a profession I hoped could somehow become my full time occupation.
No I don’t have a degree in journalism, nor long list of credentials. But at 42 years old, after spending 23 years in the service of my country, I hoped to take my passion for the sport I’ve loved since a child, and turn into another career.
That’s not to say I didn’t charge into this blindly. I have been published, won awards, even had my work read into the US Congressional record. But I’m also a realist, knowing that Jack Roush isn’t going to call with an invitation to North Wilkesboro to try out for a ride. So what better way to translate my love for NASCAR into a career than to utilize what I have been told on more than one occasion is, my talent for writing.
For the last five years I’ve tried to balance my full time duties with the part time passion for NASCAR. I write and maintain a NASCAR news web site and work on freelance projects when I can. The web site is a seven-day a week, 6-8 hour gig. This before going to a full time 10-12 hour ordeal to pay bills five days a week.
To be sure, it’s a grind, getting up at 3-4 in the morning every single day, but if I didn’t love it, didn’t have a passion that keeps the fire burning, then I would simply quit.
2005 was the year I was going to transition the website from a part time passion into a full time occupation.
HEADING TO THE NEXT LEVEL
To most NASCAR fans their heroes have names that are recognizable to all; Earnhardt, Gordon, Jarrett, Johnson.
For a budding, “wannabe” motorsports journalist, the heroes have different names: Poole, Spencer, Willis, and Harris to name a few. It was these people that I saw as I stumbled into the brand new media center at Daytona that first day of testing.
I took my first furtive steps into this world by trying to find a spot to set up my laptop and figure out what to do next. This done, I wondered what the hell I was doing there.
Did I belong here? Was I really meant for this, or was this going to be some pipe dream, soon to be shoved into the back of my mind in the place I store unpleasant memories.
After a minute or to I decided I needed to go further, dip a toe into the water at least. If I found it was too cold, then I could jump back out. I grabbed a notebook, my camera and recorder and headed towards the garage. One thing I learned a long time ago was that if you look like you know what you’re doing then people will generally let you in anywhere. I found this to be true as I stepped through the gate into the new garage area. Then I stood there and thought: ‘Now what?’ Eventually I headed out to pit road and decided to take some pictures of the cars as they took their first laps of 2005. I wondered what I could write about as the cars whizzed by on the track and zoomed past me in and out of the garage area. At one point seeing the cars, hearing the music of the engines and smelling the scents that only a race fan would love, I knew exactly what to write. I headed back to the media center and wrote: “The 2005 NASCAR Nextel Cup season has begun” And so too did it began for me. Because it was at that moment, the moment that I wrote that first story and posted it, along with the pictures on my site, that I knew I had made the right choice, that this is what I was meant to do. I jumped headfirst into the pool and began to tread water, hoping that soon I would be doing the backstroke like an Olympic champion. I drove home that first night feeling as giddy as a schoolboy. The only time I’d felt like that before was after the first time I had jumped out of a perfectly good airplane some 23 years prior. Of course it wasn’t the jump itself that left me euphoric, it was landing safely. It was a feeling that I wanted to experience again and again, like an addictive narcotic. I had stood up, hooked up and shuffled to the door. And in the end I had landed with both feet. That first day I sat in on interviews with Kurt Busch, Robby Gordon and Jack Roush. I had been the first person, to the best of my knowledge, to have pictures of the new paint schemes of Gordon and Carl Edwards show up on “Jayski”, the big NASCAR internet site. Most of all that first day served to validate what I was doing. I hit the ground running those two weeks of testing. Never before had I been so worn out, trying to report from Daytona, do my daily update and squeeze in my regular job so my electric wouldn’t be shut off. But, never had I been so happy, so alive. It felt right and I knew I was heading in the right direction. But the Daytona tests sessions were just the first part of my adventure. HEADING TO CHARLOTTE When the letter first arrived informing me that I had been accepted to attend the 2005 NASCAR Nextel Media Tour hosted by Lowes Motor Speedway, I tried to display a calm professional demeanor, at least on the outside. On the inside I was screaming “yahoo” at the top of my lungs. This was another huge step for me and as I prepared for it I knew that I was one step closer to transitioning into the full-time world of motorsports journalism. When I first walked into the University Hilton in Charlotte, I felt I was among friends. I recognized a few faces and said hello as I passed them. I certainly didn’t feel as lost as I did at Daytona and I eased into crowd of journalists as the Media Tour kicked off that first day with a trip to the NASCAR R&D center. The highlight of the stop was a “State of NASCAR” address by Brian France. And, of course, the fact that there really was no big news that came out of this session. No matter, I tried to get as many pictures and sound bites as I could. I also tried to stay out of everyone’s way while at the same time gathering material. Because I understood my place in the pecking order. The entire time I’ve been riding this roller coaster, I’ve worked hard to earn the respect of everyone I’ve met and been involved with. I’ve addressed all the people I’ve met as “Mister” or “Ms., and knowing that my readership is not on the same level as most of those I came in contact with, I’ve tried to balance getting my material and staying out of everyone else’s way. The first evening began with the Dodge Happy Hour back at the University Hilton. For the longest I simply floated around the room, observing and listening. Most of the Dodge Craftsman truck series drivers were there including 2004 Series champion Bobby Hamilton. Brendan Gaughan slipped into the role of class clown and I was surprised he didn’t find a lampshade to wear on his head. By the time Monte Dutton brought out his guitar, I knew I was among my own kind. Highlights of the evening were meeting Steve Park, who has always been a favorite of mine and Speed Channels Connie LeGrand. Ms. LeGrand turned out to be one of the friendliest, warmest people I’ve ever met and for the rest of the tour she always took time to say “hi”, gaining a big fan; me. The entire tour became a blur for the rest of the week. Getting up at 3am to update the site, being on the bus at 8am for visits to shops, then attending “hospitality hours” which is another way to say “Tonight’s open bar is sponsored by”, in the evenings. Finishing up at midnight as I filed reports from that day. Then back up at 3am to do it all over again. And I was in heaven; an eight-year-old kid going to Disney World for the first time. Among the highlights of the week: Eating enough food served by the various teams to feel like I was on a cruise chip. Seeing the Childress Vineyard near my hometown of Lexington and watching Richard Childress flutter about making sure all his guests, us, were doing okay and directing us to open seats as we ate food fit for a king. This was also the same evening I met Sam Bass, who told me with a smile, “The first thing you have to learn is that it’s ‘Sam”. He sat behind me on the bus and I now admire him more than ever before. Sam went along to tale pictures of the new paint schemes unveiled by RCR that evening, because after all he had designed them and was seeing them for the first time. Other highlights: Standing outside Chip Ganassi Racing in the cool morning air and hearing the sound of a stock car revving up in the distance, followed by screeching tires and air wrenches as pit crew practice was being held at nearby Roush Racing. Only in Carolina, I thought. Trying to hold back tears at Hendrick Motorsports while watching Rick Hendrick address the media while wishing that I could be strong as he was so soon after losing my son. Listening for hours to the seasoned veteran journalists as they traded stories; like how Dale Earnhardt once brought a live pig to a reporter in a bar at Daytona. And when it was all over and I sat with my father while spending the night with my parents before heading home to Florida, he told me I’d never looked happier. And never was he so right. There was nothing that could have prepared me for the high I was experiencing. I knew I was doing the right thing; this was what I was meant to do. I just needed a way to find out how to do this full-time while actually getting paid for it. “If you do what you love, the money will come.” My wise father once said. I just hoped it would come soon, lest my Visa’s credit limit was reached and I would be forced to write by candlelight. I left North Carolina bound for Florida, home and my next adventure, covering the Daytona 500. Little did I know as I boarded the plane, that I would never make it past the gatekeeper. DISSED AT DAYTONA When a journalist or media outlet applies for a credential to cover an event at a track, they submit the request on a company letterhead outlining who they are sending or who will be there “on assignment ”. This is exactly what I had done in November when I applied for both the Daytona testing session and the 500 using the same letter. I was approved for testing and while I was there I asked the media center director if I needed to apply again to cover the 500. “Did you send in the letter?” he asked. When I told him that I indeed had, he said that it “shouldn’t be a problem, but send me an email to remind me and if there’s any problem I’ll let you know.” In hindsight, I should have checked further than sending him an email, because if I had I might have avoided a world of problems. Having not heard anything different, I assumed that I was cleared to cover the 500, and got ready to spend Speedweeks 2005 at Daytona International Speedway. During the Media Tour, one of my primary goals was to cultivate relationships that might turn into a sponsorship for the site. To this end I scheduled two meetings at the track during Speedweeks. One was with a major network, the other with one of the biggest sponsors in NASCAR. I brushed up on my salesmanship and got ready to try and close the biggest sale of my life. Maybe this was where the “do what you love and the money will come” part, at least I hoped so, because I was now beginning to wonder if I could sell my kidney on Ebay or how much my 84 Datsun station wagon could bring on the open market. The first event I planned to attend was “media day” on the Thursday prior to the Bud Shootout. Not knowing the time or place it was to be held, I shot an email to the media center director asking him for the particulars. He replied by telling me that the media day was an event held by NASCAR and I would have to contact them for info. I sent an email to the director of media relations. I might as well have stuck my arm into a hornet’s nest. His reply: “Greg - This event is reserved for professional media that cover NASCAR. It is not open to individuals with "fan" web sites. Sorry. ****** NASCAR Public Relations” Now I don’t have very many pet peeves, but calling the site a “fan” site is one of them. And after everything I’d been through to that point, I couldn’t understand this gentleman’s comments. So I sent my reply: Mr. ******, I do not consider the site a "fan" site, I have covered other NASCAR events (including last months testing there at Daytona), I am a full time award winning freelancer, with credits and have assignments with two publications. I am a member of the National Press Association and currently in the process of joining the NMPA. I was a member on the NASCAR Media Tour in Charlotte last week and will be covering Daytona not only for the Cupscene but also for several freelance story projects. I realize that you have no idea who I am sir, but I am trying my best to have the Cupscene site be much, much more than a "fan" site.... And I may not have a great deal of creditability with you at the moment mainly due to the fact that I am transitioning from the military to the civilian world after 23 years of service, but I can assure you sir, I'm not running a "fan" site...I'm working on building a legitimate professional news organization that will report on the greatest motorsport in the world. It was, and still is, my hope to be able to follow the entire circuit this year with the goal of making a real impact in the world of NASCAR news. I hope you'll consider supporting me in that endeavor. Call me if you would like. Greg His response was to ask me where I had been published inside the motorsports arena and to provide them with samples of my work. This I did and strangely to this very day I have yet to hear anything from him again. Nothing, nada, zip. Despite not hearing from the gentleman from NASCAR, I decided to press on. The same day I emailed the director of the media canter at Daytona again, this time asking him if credentials were ready to be picked up. When his reply came back as yes, I made plans to go to the speedway and pick my credentials on Wednesday. I wanted to begin my coverage at the Budweiser Shootout and since I wouldn’t be able to get to the speedway until late Saturday afternoon, I hoped to have my credentials in my hot little hand before then. As I said before, I have a 1984 Datsun station wagon, with almost 200,000 miles and it truly shows it’s age. And while it can carry nine drunken soldiers after a night on the town (including their sober designated driver), it isn’t exactly a “road master”. I climbed into the Datsun on Wednesday and headed for the Speedway, forty-five minutes from home. I walked into the credentials office just before 11:30 on Wednesday morning. After giving my name I watched as they looked for my package. And looked, and looked. And the gnawing in my stomach grew more intense with every passing second. Finally they quit searching and told me they didn’t have anything for me. “Sorry”, they said. Call the media center guy, I pleaded, he said that the credentials were here. He gets on the phone. “I’m not the one who approves or disapproves the credentials,” He says gently,” You asked if they were ready, you didn’t ask specifically about yours.” I had to concede at this point that he was right. I hadn’t asked about mine specifically, only in general. It was at this point that I was introduced to the person in charge of the credentials. I explained to him that I had applied using the same letter that I used for testing, “Oh testing is different than the 500,” he said smugly. He then took my card and disappeared for about 20 minutes. While I waited I hoped that someone I had met during the Media Tour would wander in, put in a good word for me. Of course no one did. When the guy comes back out, he smiles and motions me to the side. “We need to see something written by you,” he said. I thought back to what the Media person from NASCAR had said. ‘Ahh, a conspiracy perhaps?’ I thought. I pleaded my case, but I’ve been around the world long enough to tell that despite Mr. Smug’s smile, it was falling on deaf ears. He excuses himself and disappears again. Could he be talking to someone behind closed doors? I wondered and waited. He reappears and he says they need hard copies of my work. The conspiracy theory began to grow. Go to the site, I said, I write the lead story almost every day. No, we have to have the hard copies. Can I fax them? “No, no, listen,” he says, then leans over the counter with his smug smile firmly showing. “Go back to Orlando and overnight me some copies…don’t worry I’ll work with you.” Now gang I’ve been blown off by the best, and compared to them Mr. Smug was an amateur. I left Daytona with my head held low knowing I had two chances; slim and none. Owing to the fact that I had kids to pickup from school and that Orlando traffic makes any post race traffic look tame. I busted my tail and after rushing to print out what I hoped was my best work from the site, I got the package, along with a nice pretty cover letter, to the UPS store 5 minutes before the last overnight pickup. So Mr. Smug would have his hard copies the next day, Thursday. Several weeks before, when I thought that there wouldn’t be a problem covering the 500, I had used the last bit of money I had to run an ad touting my “live coverage from Daytona” in a special Daytona 500 section of the National Speed Sport News, a publication I consider to be a real racing newspaper free from the constraints of big brother. In my cover letter to Daytona, I asked Mr. Smug to please contact me before noon on Friday, because this was the “drop dead” date and time and I didn’t want to spend the money, nor lose the creditability if I wasn’t going to be allowed to cover the event. Of course I never heard from him on Friday, I didn’t ever expect too actually, I was beginning to see a pattern and my conspiracy theory seemed to be coming true. I cancelled the ad in time and late Friday I sent an email to my buddy, good old Mr. Smug. On Saturday as expected the email came:
Greg, We have received your packet. After reviewing, it was decided to decline your request. You should be receiving written notice of this decision.
Ironically the written notice arrived that day. When I saw it, I knew that my conspiracy theory was right on the money. You see the letter was postmarked and sent out the very same day I was there at Daytona. All the rushing back to Orlando, busting my tail to overnight him hard copies, that was all for nothing and he knew that the day I was there. So I now confirmed that Mr. Smug never had any intention of letting me anywhere near his beloved Daytona International Speedway. I sent my regrets to the two potential sponsors and hoped that what little creditability I had built up hadn’t been destroyed. Than I asked myself why? Why would NASCAR and DIS want to deny little old me entry into their hallowed grounds? I told Mr. NASCAR Media guy that I was tired of all the negative press I saw floating around and that I wanted to bring a “fresh voice” to the world of motorsports journalism. Is positive press something they don’t want? Could it be that they want to have some yahoo from some backwoods newspaper talk about how the “good old boys are at it again”? And I’ll guarantee you that if you look hard enough you will find that exact phrase somewhere in the press within two weeks. I’ve been around this sport for over twenty years and while it hasn’t been in this capacity I can assure you that I can hold my own in any NASCAR trivia contest. Last week I gave an interview on a Boston radio station. The spot was to last 15 minutes; the host stretched it out to 30. And not once was there any dead air on my end. Is it that I’m just that bad of a writer? The thought occurred, but why would I have two major editors put me “on assignment”, meaning that instead of sending them stories that are unsolicited, or “on spec” they send me stories and then pay me for them. This alone is a huge accomplishment and I can console myself in knowing that I still have hope of finding my way into a major NASCAR publication. I think one of the biggest things that I’m upset about is that lack of professionalism displayed on the part of two men, one from DIS and the other from NASCAR. One has the gall to mislead me and the other doesn’t even have the professional courtesy of a single reply. So now what? Should I just fade back into my little corner of the world? Say, “Sorry I bothered you, I’ll be going now?” Absolutely not. I spent 23 years jumping out of perfectly good airplanes, despite begin afraid of heights and I’ve visited exotic foreign countries while people shot at me, despite being afraid of death. I’m certainly now going to allow this to stop my dream. The passion is still strong and the fire is burning hotter. We had a saying in the military. Whenever an archaic rule or dumb regulation came down, we would laugh at it and say that it was “Just another case of the man trying to hold us down.” We’d laugh then find away to circumvent the rule or regulation. Well the best way I know to get around this roadblock is to put my nose to the grindstone, work as hard as I can and get noticed. And if I end up writing stories on paper with a pencil by candlelight, because I have no electricity then so be it. I still believe with all my heart that I can do this, that if I’m doing what I love the money will eventually come. But if I do fail, then at least I’ll know that I tried and that five years from now I won’t have to sit back and say “what if.’ Of course, I wish that “money will come part would hurry up though”, this “starving artist” stuff is getting old. While we were on the Media Tour, we attended the Miller Lite Racing Motorsports Journalism Awards Dinner at the new Penske Racing South facility. I was impressed with all the winners and read the winning articles. As I did, I thought to myself, “I can write this good, or better”. Besides the usual handshakes and plaques, the winners all received a new Rolex. I looked at my watch that night and it was then that I set my goal for 2005. See my old watch isn’t working too well and I need a new one. And one day, if I’m fortunate enough to meet my goal, I’ll turn towards Daytona Beach and say: “Can you hear me now?” By the way, anyone want to buy an old Datsun?
Email:Greg Engle Editor Cup Scene Daily
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