MARTINSVILLE, Va. -- Somewhere along the fickle AM radio dial, an enthusiastic announcer pushes $25 tickets for the big NASCAR race.
The local newspaper reports the somber news that Martinsville unemployment has hit 21.6 percent, highest in the state.
Through cable TV, fans deduce that life sometimes resembles one huge replay, especially after Jimmie Johnson's Bristol win strengthens his shot at five straight Sprint Cup championships.
As sweet, meaty smoke billows above the cooking pits and drifts across the .526-mile Martinsville Speedway, cars and campers park on the slick grass at angles occasionally sharper than the flat track's 12-degree banking. Overnight guests add another layer and huddle beside fires, hoping that sunlight will refresh the unmistakable whiffs of spring dampened by Friday's rain.
This is the state of things near the Virginia state line, in the rolling foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. H. Clay Earles, only 33 at the time, cut through a briar thicket all the way to the Norfolk & Southern Railroad tracks in 1947 and built a racing oval shaped like a paper clip.
The track survived a red clay dust cloud on opening day, although Earles swore that some customers dressed in their Sunday best never returned.
The track survived restructuring in 1954, when Earles bought out assorted partners and sold a chunk to NASCAR founder Big Bill France. The track survived 1955 modernization after the stubborn Earles convinced the stubborn France that the place needed pavement to guarantee a smooth future.
The track survived a 1957 accident that sprayed debris on fans, injuring five of them, including an 8-year-old boy. An auto-manufacturers group, recoiling at the human cost, criticized racing for promoting wildly high speeds by painting engine horsepower numbers on cars and promptly withdrew factory sponsorships. That threw NASCAR into a pure tizzy. France responded by paying race teams $300 for showing up at tracks, and eventually the factory money came back.
Martinsville survived gas shortages, recessions and demises of basic industries (textiles, furniture, tobacco, even the nearby plant that made the signature grandfather clocks awarded to winners).
The track survived a sale in 2004, when Earles' heirs relinquished their half interest to the France family's International Speedway Corp. for $192 million. Unlike North Wilkesboro and Rockingham, the track survived NASCAR expansion into distant urban markets. Unlike Darlington, Martinsville retained both its dates.
Business isn't good
But this latest round -- an economic crash coinciding with the wreck of NASCAR's marketing boom -- has been a doozy. Clay Campbell, the founder's grandson and track president, shaved off his mustache but cannot shake the grizzly details of bearish business.
Daytona, California and Atlanta suffered at the gate. NASCAR estimated that 138,000 folks attended last Sunday's race at 160,000-seat Bristol Motor Speedway, which had sold out for 55 consecutive Cup races since 1982. Reporters lowered the figure to 120,000, tops.
Campbell added another pricing tier to Martinsville's $35-$77 range. "That $25 ticket, for a major-league sports event, is pretty much unheard of," he said, "but that reflects what we're faced with in this economy, in this area in particular, with double-digit unemployment. We've been through cycles like this, but I don't know if we've been through one as drastic and severe as the one we're facing now."
Campbell, who joined the staff in 1978, took hits last year as the recession landed like a tire iron dropped from the H. Clay Earles Tower. Things got nastier. North Carolina's latest unemployment rate (11.2 percent) is worse than Virginia's (7.6 percent), but Henry County's 15.5 percent is worse still.
"It's very stressful, probably the most stressful I've experienced since I've been in the business," Campbell said. "Like, for instance, advance-ticket sales have changed from other years because people don't have money to invest months in advance like they used to, so they're spending it later. That throws all our calculations and our forecasts off because we don't know when that spending is going to happen. I think we're doing things in promoting, but at the end of the day, do the people have the money to spend?"
This is the state of things near the Virginia state line, where the brakes used to run hotter, and the sport as well.
lrawlings@wsjournal.com
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