Roberts At Springfield: Back In the Blue Groove
Roberts At Springfield: Back In The Blue Groove
RACE WATCH
DAVID EDWARDS
AT DARLINGTON RACEWAY LAST LAbor Day weekend, stock-car wonder Bill Elliott was awarded one million dollars for his hard work in a NASCAR Thunderbird. But those of us who measure racing by yardsticks other than money wouldn’t have traded even a finish-line seat at that Darlington race for the thrill of watching Kenny Roberts compete that same holiday afternoon on a dirt track at the Illinois State Fair-grounds. His prize was $100.
“Money’s not the key here,” King Kenny said of the Stroh Springfield Mile, adding this pearl of Roberts logic to explain his presence at the Illinois track: “The reason I said I might want to ride a mile was that I thought I might want to ride a mile.”
Roberts, semi-retired after two U.S. Grand National and three world roadracing championships, is free to do what he wants.
His first Camel Pro Series race in eight years—proof that his competitive spark still smoulders—came about after he put out the word that he was interested. “We started testing the bike, and the first thing you know, two promoters called me. I talked to the people here at Springfield and they said they’d like to have me come and race.”
The machine Roberts tested was the best Harley-Davidson XR750 in the stable of former Grand National Champion and master bike-builder Mert Lawwill. Despite his long layoff from the steel-shoe wars, Roberts gave it quite a ride at Springfield. During opening ceremonies, he faced a sellout crowd, up 33 percent thanks to his pre-race promotion, and told them his goal was to qualify for the main event. That feat is most expeditiously accomplished with a top-three heat-race finish, and Roberts watched as Bubba Shobert, Ted Boody and eventual winner Ricky Graham—the Honda-mounted big guns of modern mile racingmarched predictably through their qualifiers and into the main feature.
Then the crowd came alive as King Kenny went to the line. Many recalled his last mile win, in 1975 at Indianapolis. Then, he rode a searing, TZ750-powered Yamaha dirttracker to a come-from-behind victory over Harley factory stars Corky Keener and Jay Springsteen, a win that Roberts ranks alongside his first world 500cc roadracing title as the crowning achievements of a long and great career.
Ten years later, the fans went crazy as Roberts led Springsteen into turn one at Springfield. Up and down the 130-mph straightaways they drafted, Springsteen the winner of 39 nationals and Roberts the hero of 33. Owners of 72 Grand National wins, two of the greatest names in motorcycle racing were joined again on a dirt battlefield.
But Springsteen and Roberts were not alone: Steve Morehead and Jim Filice made it four men racing for three transfers. On the final turn, Roberts made a key mistake, slipping off the groove and settling for fourth. Inches short of a trip to the main, he was forced into the semifinal, where he struggled in midpack then pulled in. “The motor made an ‘Oh, shit" noise,” Roberts said, “and locked the rear wheel.”
For the record, Roberts’ share of the purse amounted to just $ 100, but he also collected an appearance fee rumored as high as $ 10,000.
“It may sound like a lot of money to some people,” says the self-assured racer/businessman, “but compared to what I usually make for one race, it was very, very minimal.
You’re talking to a guy who’s used to making $50-65,000 per race.
“Besides,” he continues, “I don’t need to race now. I’ve had a successful career. I don’t do it for the money anymore, although money’s a big issue and always has been with me. If you’re going to perform, someone has to pay you to perform. I’m not going to change my basic theory now, just because I’ve made enough money to not have to worry about it. I think professional people are professional people and they never change.”
If not the money, then what was it that brought the most versatile racer in motorcycle history back to the sideways world of mile racing?
“I wanted to see if there were any promoters,” he explains, “with enough guts to really promote a race for once, rather than just having a race. In order to bring me here, they had to make a big promotion out of it. They had to take it to TV. They had to get more people here because if they didn't, I’m not worth my entry fee. I think I added something to the race that they didn’t have before,” understated Roberts.
Of course, that wasn’t the whole story. Roberts, always a fighter, savored the interesting mechanical challenge of making a Harley run with the horsepower-heavy Hondas. And he also liked the chance to work with his old friend Lawwill.
“I’ve always liked Mert,” he says. “We’ve always gotten along well and we see eye-to-eye on everything. I thought, ‘If I’m gonna ride a mile, I want to have a good bike.’ ”
Lawwill’s innovative, Simonsforked Harley fit the bill, and Roberts was on his way back to the fairground circuit—for one race, at least. “We’re on a very tight budget, but my sponsors—PJ-1 Oil, Tsubaki Chain, Simons Forks and Hap Jones—believed in me and believed that the project would be worthwhile,” he says. And if Roberts can sort out a wobbly chassis and Lawwill can find more horsepower, there’s a good chance KR will do more miles.
“Next year,” he muses, “I may be further along with the Harley; I may chose to do more than one race.
Then again, I may choose to pull back a little bit. If there’s an interest, I’ll do it. If nobody’s interested, I ain’t gonna do it, that’s for sure.”
At age 33, Roberts realizes he cannot lend his incomparable presence to the dirt-track scene forever. “If there comes a day,” he projects, “when I have to say, ‘Hey, you’re riding as fast as you can, the bike’s as good as it can be, but you just ain’t cutting it,’ then yes, I’ll stop. That day just hasn’t come yet. All my life I’ve programmed myself to get better, to adjust the bike and get it a little better. And that’s still in me. When I no longer can do that, I’m sure I’ll stop.”
A final Springfield story demonstrates that Roberts indeed is as hungry as ever for that checkered flag. The scene is the finest steak house in Peoria, Illinois, a couple of days before the running of the 33rd Springfield Mile. After an endless series of media interviews, Roberts is sharing dinner with Ricky Graham, who is destined on Sunday to become the first five-time winner in Springfield’s long and glorious history. A connoisseur of international cuisine after years of overseas racing, Roberts places his order. Minutes later, the waiter arrives with a prime piece of raw steak. He grinds and peppers it right at the table, breaks a raw egg over the top and serves up a feast any steak tartare fan would agree was fit for a king.
Graham looks on in disbelief. “You’re not really gonna eat that,” he says, staring at the plate of raw meat. The desired effect achieved, King Kenny gravely eyes his Sunday rival across the table and says, “You gotta eat lean to be mean.”
Dave Despain
