VISIONS OF SPEED

Paul Newman, Mario Andredy, Jim Fitzgerald. Racing drivers, careful men in a sport which is hard on those who make mistakes. Team players sharing their success with their cars and those who prepare them. Lucky men. Lucky to be so good at something they love so much. Men who are special. Men with a dream. A vision. A vision of speed. Paul Newman has loved the richness and complexity of automobile racing since he first began to race and win 12 years ago. Today he not only drives, he is the co-owner of a team which races Indianapolis cars. Paul's driver, none other than Mario Andredy. Paul and Mario, mutual admiration, real friendship. In this season, they would go after the Indie Car Championship, the most important title to be won in American racing. Jim Fitzgerald would seek a championship, too, for sports cars. Three men and a summer of action. The spirit of racing is embodied in the driving career of Paul Newman. His fame as a movie actor often obscures the fact that he shares with other top drivers the essential mental and physical characteristics that it takes to win. His road to success in racing began later than most. He was 47 when he drove his first race. But his reasons for wanting to race were the same as any of us getting into the game. The exhilaration of controlling a car at full speed, the need to compete, the chance to stretch one's own personal limits. As most beginners do, Paul started with smallalish, lowpowered cars racing in amateur classes. Incidents like this, a chain reaction crash, which he cruy slipped his Nissan through unscathed and went on to win, demonstrated a natural talent, not to mention an instinct for survival. Although publicly modest about his abilities, in fact, he had that same bright flame of self-confidence that is given to all who are good at this sport. And it wasn't long before he was handling much faster cars. He also had a sense for being with the right team. Newman's car owner Bob Sharp, a former champion himself, was both an effective coach and a man who saw to it that Hall had the best cars and mechanics. Sharp's red, white, and blue Nissan with Newman at the wheel with a focal point wherever they raced. By 1979, winning was a habit. Going into the final race of the year, the team had won 14 races and 17 starts. And then at Road Atlanta, they won again. And this time, it was sweet indeed, the national championship. It was time to move up to professional racing. And Sharp's response was to go all the way to have his team build for Newman a car which would compete against the fastest sports cars in the world. It was turbocharged and had a top speed of over 200 mph. In it, Paul came to final maturity as a driver. Cars like this are only for drivers who rarely if ever make mistakes. Quite frankly, they are also only for those who have faced the fact that racing is dangerous and can confront that risk with an extraordinary degree of psychological control. To those who really understood racing, Paul was emerging as a man as tough as any character he had ever played in the movies. Today, his apprenticeship is solidly behind him. He is a touring pro, experienced, a man hard to surprise, as comfortable in the company of other drivers as they are in his company. He is particularly relaxed with Jim Fitzgerald, whom he has known since his early racing years. The two men share a love of popcorn for practical jokes and an anonymous brand of white lightning that Fitzy smuggles out of the Carolina mountain. >> First lap when I went out, we're going to start getting some under steer when we did. >> Good. >> As a driver, can I have your >> Between races, Fitzy teaches racing. Racing is literally his life and he has enormous talent for what he does. This year, Sharp has hired him to drive his team's Nissan cars, both in professional races with Paul and in a series of amateur races that will lead to the Sports Car Club of America's National Championship race at Road Atlanta later in the year. One of the tracks upon which Fitzy would compete was Watkins Glenn, the birthplace of road racing in the years following World War II. In those days, they used public roads for the day, and part of the track ran right through town. This is downtown Watkins Glenn. Still very much the way it used to be 35 years ago. Franklin Street here was the old main straightaway. The pits were just over there and the start finish line a couple of blocks further down. As a race driver and race fan, I've seen the sport change in many ways in the years since it first began. Of course, one obvious change is we no longer race on public streets. As the speeds of the racing cars increased, it was no longer safe. It made sense to construct special courses for racing only. At Watkins Glenn, the site was chosen on a windswept hill three miles from town. A great track and it was a great start for Fitzy and his Nissan as he led briefly then dropped to second behind the yellow triumph of another racing veteran, Ken Slagel. Any driver racing at Watkins Glenn feels the weight of the track's rich 35 year history and knows he is racing literally in the wheel tracks of the legends of the sport. Fitzy on this day was flying, but so was Slaggel until the pace got to his car. Slaggel's breakdown came so close to the end of the race that Fitzy barely had time to savor the sensation of a commanding lead. And then he was taking the checkered flag. He was chatting with Bob Sharp in the winner circle when I arrived from where I'd watched the race. >> Hey Sam, how are you? >> So congratulations. How was it? >> Nice. >> How does it feel to win? >> Real nice. just can't beat it. There's nothing like it. >> And the car >> The car was just fine. You know, it cakes got a little warm and I just backed it off and it had a few extra pops in it, but it was like a on railroad tracks. >> There was another small American town which caught the racing fever in the post-war era. Elcart Lake, Wisconsin. They raced right down Main Street, then out into the countryside and around the lake for which the town was named. The sight and sound of fast cars was exciting in this otherwise pastoral land of farms and rolling hills. And racing at Elcart Lake, was here to stay. As at Watkins Glenn, a permanent track was built. Road America, they named it. Paul Fitzy, Bob Sharp, along with the team's chief mechanic, Jean Crowe, came to Road America to race, and so did Mario Andredy. Of course, Mario is a such a blessing, such a privilege to to be connected with him because he's he's miraculous in every quarter cuz you talk about his relationship with the team, his relationship with the car. Um, I mean, he's just as quick and as accurate as a computer. And the information that the designer and the crew chief are able to work with gives us a tremendous edge. We've become very good friends. I think we're truly good friends and uh he of course is a boss and uh me working for him I couldn't find a better arrangement that we have right now or better understanding. If anything, he's such a strong individual, strong will, and from that standpoint, he's an inspiration obviously. And uh you can't put back of your mind that he's just an average human being. He's not. And uh I just I just watched the way he handled situations and things. And uh you always learn something. Uh and I think you learn to appreciate his personality even more. It was midsummer and Paul's race started in the full heat of the day. This was Trans Am racing, a professional series of 16 races held at tracks all across the US and in Canada. Corvettes, Capri, Camaros, Firebirds, and the Nissan Turbo ZXs of Newman and Fitzgerald. These were the quickest road racing sedans in the country driven by top professionals. The Trans Am. Paul loves it. >> I think it's the best road racing series in the United States. I think it's got the most depth. I had to make a a choice when I went from amateurs to professional racing whether I wanted to be a big fish in a little pond or a little fish in a big pond. And I work harder and drive harder and feel better. >> Paul was running third in the early going, then second. That's an interesting course because it's not only a power course, but there are still 14 turns in it, uphill and downhill. And >> does a racer get tense at moments like these when things are going well and there seems to be so much to lose? Not fall. >> I think the important thing is to go out there and not care. That's when I seem to go the fast. >> Interestingly, it was here at Road America that Paul had his first encounter with racing. The year was 1969 and he had come here to film the opening scenes for a movie called Winning in which he would star along with his wife Joanne Woodward and actor Robert Wagner. Driving in scenes like this, he fell in love with the sport. The Californiaifornian Frank Cap number 25 with a little more than one lap to go seems to have this race pretty much in the bag with about a one-minute lead over Ru Ern 83. He's in trouble. He seems to be out of gas and heads to the pits. What a tough break for Kappa who's led this race. >> One lousy lap. You got 58 seconds on him. >> Hey Frank, get worried. You're going to blow $12,000 out there. >> Go. >> You mean out there? >> Come on, move. Not surprisingly, Paul went on to win that race in the movie. But as the real race at Road America neared its end, it became obvious that life would not imitate art today. Paul would finish fourth, a strong placing in a car that was brand new at the beginning of the season. Paul was pleased. There are as many reasons to race as there are people who do it. As Paul's rivals attest, >> I have never been able to find anything that even comes close to the enjoyment or the satisfaction that I get out of racing. >> If all I had was my job, I'd go nuts. I I've got to race. Whether it's this racing or that racing, it doesn't matter. But I have to race. It's something that's that's a burning desire. I think that all the things that surround the racing, the teamwork, the effort to prepare your car so it can go through the corner faster than the other fella is really what is more that I get more satisfaction out of than the actual behind the wheel part of racing. >> The people, the the my my engineers, the guys I work with, we know we got a great relationship. uh just the pure excitement that motor racing is all about. There is no sport more exciting than racing. No sport on earth. This is it. This is the next best thing to heaven. It was a cool overcast day at the track called Road Atlanta. This was the day the Sports Car Club of America's national championship would be decided in a single winner take all event which Jim Fitzgerald had qualified for earlier with wins such as the one we saw at Watkins Glenn. Sharing the front row with Fitzy and the Nissan was his old adversary Ken Slaggel again driving his Triumph. We came down and I said now because Ken got a little run on him. turbo just came on like gang busters and we got a run on them. So as we came into turn one, I move over to the right so nobody like Jerry Hansen wouldn't come under me. So once I started up the hill and down through the S's, I ran from them. And then as I got onto the backstretch and looked in the rearview mirror and saw I had a nice little bit of a lead, I said, "Boy, did those guys do a nice job on this car and is good handling." So, as the race progressed, we were we were getting a comfortable lead. It would narrow a little bit here and there, and then it would lengthen itself as we got through traffic. But on the horizon, you were seeing these ominous clouds, black heavy. So, I was praying, "Oh, God, don't let it rain." So, I come out of turn five, which is an uphill left and down, and there's a very light mist. So I reach over and pop the wipers on and uh find it cleared off. It wasn't very heavy. Make one more lap, come up over the same hill, which was perfectly dry before. We go down about uh 100 yards and all at once, all at once, Tim Fitzgerald had his hands full. Rain pouring onto the track, no grip for the tires. Fitzy, then car after car behind him, shot off the road into the guardrail. Hansen, Slaggel, a dozen drivers crashed. Miraculously, none were seriously hurt. The officials stopped the race. When this happens, the rules stipulate the winner becomes the man who was leading as the last lap began. Fittingly, Jim Fitzgerald was declared national champion. When you make it go well, then everybody rejoices. Everybody's happy. It's a you know, you hear that tried and true team effort. It It is a team effort. There's no other way you can do it. >> This is March Air Force Base of Los Angeles. After World War II, March became a base for the Strategic Air Command, and a race was held here that proved to be critical to the growth and development of sports car racing. The crowd at March was enormous, which was like finding gold. If racing was this popular in Southern California, why not follow the tradition of Watkins, Glenn, and Elcart Lake and build a permanent racing circuit? A few rattlesnakes were displaced and Riverside International Raceway was born. Through the years, Riverside has been a popular place for teams to test their cars. The success of a test depends upon teamwork more than anything else. On accurate feedback from the drivers to the crew, a driver must never criticize the car to cover for his own shortcomings. An atmosphere of trust is essential. And on the Nissan team, this trust runs deep. The test driver has to be a sort of perfectionist. Driving around lap after lap would be boring to anyone not trying to achieve the perfect lap. But if it's you in that cockpit, well, each change they make to the car, to the suspension or the aerodynamics or whatever, you feel it. Feel it right in the seat of your pants. And you know right away if it's made the car faster or not. The car is the driver's sword. It is the extension of his body that gives him power beyond his own. With the suspension set up just right, balanced and perfect, it also gives him grace and control. But it must be just right. And that's why teams test and test and test. In theory at least, a test day is a technical exercise and the driver's role is that of an onboard computer. Sometimes, and is usually near the end of the day. The idea becomes to go fast, as fast as the car will go and forget all the data and calculations. No instructions have to be given when this moment comes. Everyone on the team just knows. And then the driver alone out there in the desert isn't alone at all. A sort of collective consciousness is willing him on faster, faster. Race day is something else. You're less the perfectionist and more the boxer out there punching your way through the field. Paul loves it because he has a competitive streak in him which he says he could never really use in his acting. I think if you have Paul's talent and fame, you maybe wind up spending a lot of your time being gracious to people who don't have your advantages. And probably you get to the point when you're just tired of playing Mr. Nice Guy all the time. Out there on the track, you can let off steam. After all, in racing, aggressive behavior is more than just okay. It's the name of the game. You put a solid squeeze on a guy and pass him. Deep down, you're not feeling one bit sorry for him. One good race that can hold you for weeks. Just as years ago the building of this track heralded the shift for road racing from airport circuits to permanent facilities like this one, now another change is in the wind. Riverside itself is about to close. See those houses over there behind me? When this track was first built, it was built in an empty desert. But today, it is virtually encircled by suburban real estate. And the truth of the matter is the property here is worth more as home sites than it is as a racing facility. So, another moment of transition for the sport. The new direction is in some ways a return to the old. Races are being held downtown again. In Dallas, they race in a park. In Detroit and Long Beach, in the city streets here in Las Vegas, it's the parking lot at Caesar's Palace. You install walls of concrete, temporary grandstands, and miles of fencing. It may or may not have the tradition of a Watkins Glenn yet, but it's quite a novel experience to stroll out from the blackjack tables to find a race on your doorstep. For Paul and Mario, the Las Vegas race was a climax of sorts for their relationship of car owner and driver. They were in contention for the Indie Car Championship and this race, the last race of the year, would be the decider. The situation was this. Mario held a small points lead over former Indie winner Tom Snea. If Snea won here, Mario would have to finish and finish in the top 10 to clinch the title. For Mario, a cautious approach was indicated. And from the outset, he did his best to stay out of other people's way. He hates racing like this. Mario, and I think this is the reason he and Paul get on so well, likes to go for it. He had won six of the 15 Indie Car races so far this year, and tiptoeing around was hardly his style. If Snea had dropped out, Mario could have opened up, certain of the championship, but Snea was having a great day, leading the race. And as long as he kept that lead, Mario had to finish. There were spins, crashes, but nothing affected Snea. He was a sort of implacable adversary that Paul and Robert Redford faced in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Certainly Mario didn't need this championship to confirm his greatness as a driver, but he had been the points leader throughout most of the long summer of racing and to let the championship slip through his fingers now at the last moment. But Mario wasn't going to let that happen. Snea won the race, but Mario finished second and took the championship. In the pits, the atmosphere was one of relief as well as celebration as Paul embraced the co-owner of the team, Carl Hawks. I spoke to Mario as the new champion stepped from his car. And how does it feel now that you've done it? >> Oh, what a relief. What a relief it is. >> Listen, you've won so much. You've achieved so many of your goals. Do you have any goals left in racing? >> Well, just go after it again next year. It feels too good. >> I bet. Congratulations. >> Thank you, Sam. Thank you. >> So, Mario had had another vintage year. So had Paul. So had Fitzy. Three so very different men, confident of each other's abilities, urged on by each other's successes, enjoying each other's company. Theirs is a love of driving fast, something they do each in his own style, each so very well. Heat. Heat. Heat. Heat.