Even with 10 grand in bodywork, the Gray Ghost was worth it

Deep within, every race driver harbors a wish to have a car so fast that it appears to be a blur.
Buddy Baker realized this dream in the 1980 Daytona 500, hurtling to victory in an Oldsmobile so quick that NASCAR officials ordered pink Day-Glo strips taped to the car's front end to enable rivals being overtaken by Big Buddy to see him coming.

The No. 28 automobile had a black and silver-gray paint scheme, and the vehicle proved so spectacularly speedy that it tended to blend in with the asphalt at Daytona International Speedway.

Tales of that car have become a colorful part of NASCAR lore, and these stories undoubtedly will be recounted in the coming days as the Nextel Cup teams gather at the Florida track for the running of the season-opening Daytona 500 on Feb. 19.   

"Oh, that race car was special, for sure," Waddell Wilson, who was Baker's crew chief and engine-builder in 1980, recalled this week.  "Even now, more than a quarter-century later, fans still bring it up to me all the time.  It ranks high among the favorites of all the cars I ever fielded."

   Wilson remembered that the late Harry Ranier, an affable Kentuckian who owned Baker's Charlotte-based team, was intent on giving Buddy a Daytona 500 victory.  The popular driver had been trying to win the sport's biggest event for two decades.  Several times it appeared the checkered flag would be his, but each time cruel racing luck left him with close-call heartache.

   "Harry told me to do whatever it took, within reason and within the rules, to give Buddy a car he could put in Victory Lane," continued Wilson, who now serves as a consultant to Jerico Transmissions, a major supplier to NASCAR teams. 

   Wilson chuckled and added, "I took Harry at his word."
   At that time the Ranier team had no in-shop "body man," or fabricator.  So Wilson farmed out this work to a small company owned by a friend.

   "I went by that body shop almost every day in the off-season to check on the car," continued Wilson.  "Several times I found something I wanted done differently, so I'd have 'em tear it out and do it over.  My friend said, 'Waddell, if we change it, we're going to have to charge you for it.'  I told him to go ahead and bring me the bill when he delivered the body.

   "Well, they finally had the car the way I wanted it.    They brought it to our shop, along with the bill.  It was $10,000!  I almost fainted. That was about five times what we were paying for a body in those days!  I said to myself, 'Harry is going to fire me, and then he's going to kill me.'  I decided not to tell him about that bill until I saw how we did at Daytona."

    From the first practice it was apparent that the team had a very special car.
   "It was so sleek, very aerodynamic," remembered Baker.  "It really cut through the air and drafted like a dream.  I was pumped, but I kept that in check as much as possible.  I'd been pumped before, only to have these awful, disappointing letdowns."

   Baker won the pole at a sizzling 194.009 mph.

   Now, Wilson was the one who was psyched up.

   "I knew we had an even stronger engine for the 500," said Waddell.  "I had rebuilt the thing five times to get as much horsepower as possible."

   As practice continued for the big race, Baker's car seemed to become even more potent.  Several drivers complained to NASCAR officials that they were having difficulty seeing the No. 28 as it swept upon them from behind.  The late Dick Beaty, then the Winston Cup Series director, ordered Wilson to apply the bright pink strips above the grille.

   Members of the motorsports media picked up on this, and the Olds was given an ominous nickname, "The Gray Ghost."
   Wilson recalls that some team owners did more than complain about the paint scheme. 
   "They went to NASCAR and tried to convince Bill France Jr., that our car was illegal and was going to stink up the show," said Wilson.  "They wanted us thrown out of the race.

   "NASCAR came and inspected us all over again.  They didn't find one thing illegal about it and told us we could run the car as it was.  We had pushed the envelope to the limit, I admit, but everything about that car was within the rules."

   Donnie Allison, who had started alongside Baker on the front row in a Hoss Ellington-fielded Olds, led the first two laps.  Then, Baker asserted command, and stayed in front most of the rest of the way, eventually leading 143 of the 200 laps on the storied 2.5-mile speedway.

   As powerful as Baker and the car proved, he and Wilson and the rest of the team had to sweat out gas mileage as the 500 neared an end.  Bobby Allison was running strong in the Bud Moore team's Ford.

   "We had to make a final stop in the pits for fuel and we wanted to take only enough time to get one can in the car," said Wilson.  "We'd figured it, and felt that we could get to the finish with a lap to spare if we got every single drop from one can into the fuel cell.

   "The late Buck Brigance, the great old motorcycle racer from the 1950s and a close friend of Buddy Baker's, was our gas man.  I told Buck it  was absolutely essential that he not spill a drop and that he had to get it in the car within six seconds after he got the nozzle hooked up.

   "Buck asked me, 'How valuable is that gas can?"
   "I thought it was a strange question to ask at such a tense, high-pressure time.  I asked Buck what he was thinking.
   "He said, 'If you'll let us punch a hole in the bottom of the thing once I get it elevated and start pouring, the gas will go into the car a lot faster.'  I told him to do whatever was necessary.

   "Well, Buddy came in real fast with 20 laps to go and slid to a stop in front of us.  Buck shouldered that gas can and thrust the nozzle in.  As he did, the gas catch-can man, standing alongside Buck, used a putty knife to punch a hole in the can.

   "Meanwhile, I had reached through the window net on the driver's side and grabbed Buddy by the neck of his uniform.  I knew how excited and tempestuous Buddy was, and that he was going to roar out of there when he felt they'd had time to get the gas in.  I intended to hold onto him until Buck took the nozzle of that can out.

   "Buddy must have sensed that Buck had finished, 'cause he revved the engine and dropped the clutch.  I was trying to get my hand out of the window net when Buck Brigance came crashing into me.  Buddy had darn near taken Buck with him.  Me and Buck both went tumbling."

    Baker flew back onto the track and reassumed the lead, having given up the front spot while in the pits for only one lap to Dale Earnhardt.

   Baker stretched out his advantage to 13 seconds over Allison, who became the only other driver on the lead laps when Earnhardt had to make an unscheduled stop after his crew left off a lug nut in what was to have been his last trip onto pit road.

   At this point Wilson began radioing Baker to slow down and conserve fuel, just in case.
   Baker maintained his pace, and an argument ensued over the hookup between driver and crew chief.
   "Buddy kept telling me, in a sing-songy voice, 'I can't hear you!'" said Wilson.  "I was pretty irritated with him, I don't mind telling you."

   The anger and anxiety faded, however, as a caution flag waved for the final lap, assuring victory for the Ranier team.  Baker was 12 seconds ahead at the time, and probably could have coasted to the checkered flag.

   "Buddy was tremendous," praised runnerup Allison.  "All the rest of us could do was try to hang on.  He deserved to win."

   Baker triumphed at an average speed of 177.602 mph, then a record for any type of car in a 500-mile race.
   Jubilation reigned in Victory Lane and continued into the press box during the traditional winner's interview.
   I asked Buddy how intense the disagreement between he and Wilson had become during the final laps over the fuel conservation issue.

   Baker laughed and replied, "It sounded like Saturday night in Junior Wong's kitchen."
  I howled as other writers frowned in puzzlement.
  "Who the hell is Junior Wong?" they wanted to know when Baker's interview session was over. 
   I explained that he was a fishing pal of mine and Buddy's who owned and operated a small Chinese restaurant in Charlotte.  The place always was swarmed on Saturday nights, and the action - and arguments - in the kitchen were somewhat local legend.

   On a serious note, Baker, then 39, said that "It's a good thing I finally won the Daytona 500, because I was determined to to keep trying until I was so old and creaky they would have had to lift me in and out of the cars."

   And what of that $10,000 fee for building the body of that No. 28 Olds?
   Wilson grinned at the memory and recounted what happened:
   "Well, right after Harry Ranier got into Victory Lane, he said, 'Dang, Waddell, we've won over $100,000!'  The exact amount, turns out, was $102,175, a huge purse at that time.

   "I said, 'No, Harry, you've won $90,000.  That car body cost us $10,000.' 
   "Harry smiled, shrugged and didn't say a word."
   Not surprising.
   The Gray Ghost was worth it.