Steve Waid: A funny thing happened at the 1981 Cup awards ceremony
The Waldorf-Astoria in New York was the site of the NASCAR Cup awards ceremony for many years before the ceremony moved to Las Vegas in 2009.
// Jim Fluharty, NASCAR Scene
COMMENTARY
That the NASCAR Awards Ceremony was held in Las Vegas for the first time this year is something that, long ago, few could have imagined.
You might find this a bit hard to believe, but at one time, the event that honored NASCAR’s Cup champion was something decidedly
unglamorous.
For years it was held in a Daytona Beach hotel during Speedweeks in February. It was open to the fans, but most of them didn’t care to attend.
Nor did the media. The only one I went to, kicking and screaming, was in 1981 when Dale Earnhardt received recognition as the 1980 champion. To give you an idea of how informal the affair was, Earnhardt wore jeans.
Turns out that was the last time NASCAR held its awards ceremony in Daytona. Later that year it was announced that it would be moved to the Waldorf-Astoria in New York. In December.
Few thought New York was appropriate for NASCAR. It was a regional sport based in the Southeast and had absolutely no presence in the Big Apple.
But the boss – Bill France Jr. – wanted to widen NASCAR’s scope. He wanted to put it on a national stage and the best place for that was in the media capitol of the world.
Rest assured the New York media couldn’t have cared less about NASCAR in 1981 and snubbed it completely.
That would eventually change.
The first event in New York was a simple one. It wasn’t formal, it didn’t come with receptions and press conferences, and it certainly wasn’t held in the Waldorf’s spectacular Grand Ballroom.
It was held in the Starlight Roof, which is far less opulent, and much smaller, than the Grand Ballroom.
But that didn’t matter to the media – hardly. They eagerly anticipated the event.
Remember, the motorsports media of the day was composed almost entirely of guys from the South, most of whom delighted in the prospect of getting to New York and taking in the sights – among other things, of course.
My buddies Tom Higgins of the Charlotte Observer and “Ol’ Weird” Harold Pearson of the Richmond Times-Dispatch and I hooked up in New York and were determined to have as much fun as possible.
We did some sightseeing, bought souvenirs, and I’m pretty sure we hit just about every pub on Second Avenue.
We stood outside the Waldorf and looked to the sky with our mouths agape – seemingly fascinated with the skyscrapers - hoping that passers-by would stop and do the same thing.
No one did. But one couple did pause near us, and Higgins spotted them. He didn’t miss a beat.
“That there building sure would hold a lot of corn, wouldn’t it?” he said in his deepest Southern drawl.
The couple cracked up.
OK, we weren’t the models of maturity.
On the night of the ceremony we put on suits and headed for the Starlight Roof after a stop at Sir Harry’s Bar.
A couple hundred people might have attended the event, and they were almost entirely males. As best as I can recall, the only female there was Alexis Leras, then NASCAR’s public relations director.
Barney Hall of MRN Radio was the emcee, and he sat at the head table along with France, Cup champion Darrell Waltrip, his team owner, Junior Johnson, and officials from NASCAR and R.J. Reynolds Tobacco Co., the series sponsor.
Because there were no videos, entertainment or speeches from the top 10 drivers, things moved along rather rapidly.
Even so, Higgins had to use the rest room. He got up and left.
Time passed – a lot of time – and he didn’t return.
Pearson and I grew concerned. Was Higgins back at Sir Harry’s? Was he lost?
We started a manhunt. Higgins wasn’t in the rest room. He wasn’t in Sir Harry’s. He wasn’t in the lobby or back in his room.
Good grief, had he been kidnapped?
Finally I spotted a door tucked away in a recess at one of the walls in the Starlight Roof.
I opened it and looked down a long, dark, narrow hall. I thought I heard something in the distance. It was a low, rumbling voice that was
followed by gales of laughter.
I heard these sounds more than once before I finally entered a kitchen. There stood Higgins, surrounded by the Greek waiters who had served us.
They were laughing because Higgins was telling them tall tales and how, in Leras, NASCAR had its own “Greek goddess.”
Higgins can strike up a conversation with a cigar store Indian. To this day, I don’t know how he got into that kitchen, unless he thought it
was the rest room.
It wasn’t long after 1981 that the awards ceremony moved to the Grand Ballroom and became a huge formal event attended by thousands.
It eventually outgrew the Waldorf and thus the move to Las Vegas was made.
Higgins has been retired for 13 years now, so naturally he didn’t attend this year’s ceremony.
Not that it matters. He would have never left the casino, anyway.
