A Legacy In Richmond

   In covering and being around NASCAR for more than 50 years, I can recall few prouder men than Paul Sawyer during the weekend of Sept. 10-11 in 1988.
   That's when the pioneer stock car racing promoter opened his sparkling new Richmond International Raceway with the Miller High Life 400.
   Sawyer was a tough, crusty character, a throwback to the sanctioning body's rough and tumble formative years, and he seldom showed much emotion, unless it was cussing out someone who had crossed him or who had erred big-time.
   However, 20 years ago I doubt the smile that he was beaming could have been taken from his face even with mortician's wax.
   Sawyer had built a motorsports showplace, and he knew it.
   "It has taken 33 years," he said," but finally me and my family, with the help and encouragement of a lot of others, have given our fans the track they've deserved for so long.  I simply could not be prouder."

   Sawyer's elation was understandable.
   The new 3/4ths-mile Richmond International Raceway--where the Chevy Rock & Roll 400 has been postponed to Sunday afternoon from Saturday night because of Tropical Storm Hanna--replaced a ramshackle, run-down facility known as Richmond Fairgrounds Raceway, a .542-mile layout. 
   If NASCAR had a wart on its nose, it was that Fairgrounds track, where the circuit had been racing since 1953.  Sawyer and a pal, driver Joe Weatherly, a two-time cirucuit champion when he was killed in a 1964 crash at Riverside, Calif., bought the track in 1955.  Sawyer bought Weatherly's share a couple years later.
    Located at the same site on the northern outskirts of Richmond, the old capitol of The Confederacy, the new  speedway was 60 feet wide and featured sweeping turns to provide for plenty of passing.
   Drivers and crew chiefs and team owners were beyond impressed.
   Except for one thing.
   The wall separating the racing surface from pit road jutted too far into the fourth turn.
   "You come around that corner and suddenly that wall is right in your face," said Richard Petty, who was to retire in 1992 as Richmond's alltime victory leader, scoring 13 of his record 200 triumphs there.  "It's a risky place."
   Countered the late, colorful crew chief, Harry Hyde, "Ol' Paul has spent millions of  dollars giving us a better place to race and the fans a better place to see a show.  Surely we can allow him one mistake for now.  And if anybody see's that it gets fixed, it'll be Paul."
   And Sawyer did.
   The infamous "war" between NASCAR tire suppliers Goodyear and Hoosier was raging in September of '88, and it flared especially hot at the new Richmond track.  Hoosier had the fastest tire, and most teams in the 38-car field went with that brand in qualifying.  However, during a 200-mile preliminary race it became apparent that the soft Hoosiers wouldn't stand the strain exacted by new pavement, higher speeds and heavier cars.  Many drivers switched to Goodyears for the 400, and under NASCAR rules, had to line up for the start much farther back than they qualified.  Drivers were required to take the green flag on the tires on which they had run time trials.
   But Davey Allison, the pole winner in Ranier Racing's Ford at 122.850 mph, stuck with Hoosiers.  Allison got a great break because of an early caution period, pitted on the sixth lap for Goodyears and dominated to win the first race at the "New Richmond." 
   There was no penalty for changing tire brands after the race began.
   For two decades now tickets to Richmond's Sprint Cup Series races have been almost in as much demand as those for the events at Bristol Motor Speedway in Tennessee.  Attendance at the Rock & Roll 400 in 2007 was a sellout 112,029.
   Through all the years I knew Paul Sawyer he and two other friends for whom we shared a fondness--Jack Daniels and George Dickel--put both of us under the table several times.  Paul took great delight in busting me and other pals in sessions of five-card stud.
   Always, at some point in these evenings, he talked of giving the fellow Virginians he loved a special track in the Richmond area.
   Twenty years ago, he made that dream a reality.
   One final anecdote about this tough, remarkable "coot" who passed away in 2005 at age 88.
   During the new raceway's first big weekend a bottleneck developed in pedestrian traffic.
   Paul, a "hands-on" promoter of the first order, rushed to the scene to determine the problem.
   Turns out it was a "rent-a-cop" whose uniform and badge had gone to his head.  The guy was giving fans a tough time even though they had the proper tickets.  He looked like Barney Fife but was strutting around like John Wayne.  Plus, he had a huge pistol strapped low on his right leg.
   Paul picked the show-off up by the back of the belt and yelled, "Open that damn gate!  And take off that (expletive) pistol!"
   The bully, white as a sheet, couldn't get the firearm unbuckled fast enough, almost allowing his pants to fall down in the process.
  Every time there's a Richmond race I laugh about the incident all over again.
  I imagine that somewhere, Paul Sawyer laughs, too.