INDIANAPOLIS — Secrets. They’re hard to keep in the business of auto racing and they always have been. One of the interesting elements of Roger Penske’s recent purchase of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway was that so many people — journalists and otherwise — had no idea a deal was in the works.
It brought to mind a similar — albeit less impactful — situation in the early 1970s, also involving Penske. This story, however, played out in a very different way. Chris Economaki related the story in his 2006 autobiography, “Let ‘Em All Go!”
Penske had already established himself as a successful team owner in Indy car racing and was well on his way to becoming one of America’s most dynamic business owners. Although he wasn’t quite yet a household name in mainstream America, Penske was certainly highly recognized in racing circles.
Economaki and Penske had cultivated a friendship that dated back to Penske’s days as a sports car driver in the late 1950s. Their friendship was genuine and forged through mutual respect.
NASCAR in the early 1970s was still considered a regional sport, primarily confined to the Southeast. With the arrival of the R.J. Reynolds tobacco money in 1971, NASCAR entered its first significant growth cycle.
Early one Tuesday morning in 1971 a truck driver wheeled into the American Motors assembly plant in Racine, Wis. He backed up to the dock and a 40-foot box was loaded onto his trailer. The driver glanced at the manifest and was shocked to see that two AMC Matador bodies inside the shipping container were consigned to Roger Penske, in care of Hutcherson-Pagan Racing, a racing shop in North Carolina that specialized in NASCAR competition.
At precisely that moment, halfway across the country in Ridgewood, N.J., Economaki was up against a hard deadline to send that week’s issue of National Speed Sport News to the printer. In the midst of the action his telephone rang and an operator informed him of a person-to-person long-distance call from Wisconsin.
“Is this Chris Economaki?” a voice on the phone inquired.
“Yes,” Economaki replied, still distracted by the pages strewn across his desk and glancing at the clock.
“You don’t know me, but I’m a reader of your paper,” the truck driver said in an excited voice. “I’m at a gas station 10 miles south of the AMC plant in Racine, Wis. Do you know what I’ve got on my trailer? DO YOU KNOW WHAT I’VE GOT ON MY TRAILER?”
“No, I don’t know what you’ve got on your trailer,” Economaki growled, glancing again at the clock.
The man described the 40-foot shipping container and the contents. He also shared the details of the manifest, confirming the destination for the Matador bodies.
“Roger Penske is goin’ stock car racing!” the man exclaimed. “ROGER PENSKE IS GOIN’ STOCK CAR RACING!”
This was clearly a major story, as Penske’s entry into NASCAR competition greatly broadened the dimensions of the sport and validated the growing stature of the series.
Economaki quickly wrote down the details and hung up the phone. He rushed to bang out a quick story and inserted it in the edition, minutes before it made the printer.
A couple of days later Economaki was at his desk when his phone rang once again. It was Penske.
“Chris, we’re good friends,” Roger began, his tone measured and calm. “I want to know who your spy is in my organization. NOBODY knows about those Matadors and I read about it this morning in your newspaper.”
“Roger, you don’t have to worry,” Economaki laughed. “There is no spy. I can’t tell you who told me, but it wasn’t within your organization.”
Of the countless news stories that filled his pages throughout the years, Economaki took particular pride in this episode. He and Penske continued to enjoy a close friendship until Chris’ passing in 2012.
Penske, of course, is today among the most accomplished men in the history of American motorsports. His organization has shown an unfailing ability to execute the most significant of projects, doing so with utmost secrecy when needed.
But sometimes good execution and careful planning aren’t enough. Early one morning in Wisconsin all those years ago, a truck driver and a pay phone helped break one of the biggest stories in the history of NASCAR racing.
A spy in the organization? Nothing nearly that dramatic. It was merely an observant guy who recognized a blockbuster story when it fell into his lap, and he knew exactly where to go with it. And the rest, as they say, is history.