![]()


DARLINGTON, S.C -- The grand dame of stock-car racetracks looks pretty good for her age. Workers are rolling out new black fencing, to replace the old gray stuff that's turned to rust. Freshly planted palmetto trees lean against the sky. The fresh coat of asphalt sparkles in the bright sunlight, making everything around it look better.
There are still some final touches to complete -- an old vehicle tunnel is being converted to a passenger walkway, and the walls have yet to be repainted -- but the four-year, $20 million renovation project that has transformed Darlington Raceway is nearly complete. That is, until this June, when track president Chris Browning goes before the International Speedway Corp. executive board and asks for money to turn Darlington's aging tobacco-shed garages into a double-decker fan attraction.
Nobody's betting against him. Not after what we've seen here the past few years, when a track on the brink of being dropped from the NASCAR schedule was reborn. Darlington seemed finished earlier this decade, when its traditional Labor Day date was moved to California, its second Cup race was moved to Phoenix, and its lone remaining event was placed on a weekend nobody had dared try in 20 years. In a town where the police cars sport checkered flags, there was a distinct, inescapable sense that venerable old Darlington was being set up to fail.
And look what happened. Lights. Renovations. A new 3,000-seat grandstand. New blacktop. Three consecutive sellouts. Darlington didn't just survive, it flourished. It's a much grander, healthier and more secure facility now than at any other point in its modern history. And it's proof that there's life even after losing a race.

David Pearson made laps at Darlington Raceway in his old No. 21 Mercury, proving the Silver Fox can still make tracks.
It's impossible to convey the foreboding that gripped this town after the last Southern 500 was completed in 2004. People were telling mayor Tony Watkins that he needed to prepare for the complete loss of the facility that provided his little town with a national identity. Local residents and businesses braced for the worst. It all combined with factory losses that made the situation doubly painful. A trip around the tidy Darlington town square back then revealed many storefronts papered over or boarded shut.
Now, even in a struggling economy, virtually all of those same shops are open for business. Over in neighboring Florence, where most race fans stay during the track's Mother's Day weekend event, there is a cluster of new hotels and restaurants at the intersection of interstates 20 and 95. Everything seems more vibrant than it did four years ago, even though the racetrack was cut from two events a year to one.
It's an astonishing transformation. Before ISC bought Darlington, the track had been allowed to fall into a sad state of disrepair by an ownership group that milked its profits while leaving the infrastructure to rot. They believed the cachet of the Darlington name, the history that went with being the site of NASCAR's first 500-mile event, was enough. They were wrong. Had it not been for the persistence of the track's last three presidents -- Jim Hunter, Andrew Gurtis and Browning -- who convinced ISC of what the place was capable of, a facility that's drawn comparisons to Fenway Park, Lambeau Field and even the Lincoln Memorial would almost certainly today be dust.
Instead, the right combination of factors came together to save Darlington -- presidents who wouldn't take no for an answer, a parent company willing to put money into it, fans willing to show up. And, strange as it seems, losing a race. The loss of the Southern 500 galvanized support for a facility that, in all honesty, had been taken for granted by race fans in the region. It heightened ticket demand. A racetrack that hadn't sold out in nearly a decade sold out three consecutive times. Even in a tough economy, Darlington officials believe they have a good shot at four in a row.
For a NASCAR racetrack, the prospect of losing a race is a harrowing one. Just mentioning the idea is enough to draw pointed rebukes from officials at California, Atlanta and Martinsville. It's seen as a death sentence in a sport where two Sprint Cup weekends are the gold standard for facilities. Everybody remembers what happened at North Carolina Speedway, which lost one race and then was gone completely even though its facilities were vastly superior to those at some surviving racetracks. That's one example of the effects of schedule realignment. Darlington is another.
And at Darlington this week, they're still painting and planting and refurbishing, getting everything ready for the Sprint Cup event in three weeks. There's a new tunnel and a new coat of asphalt and new concrete pit boxes, each a foot longer than before. There are lights towering over a relatively new 3,000-seat grandstand. There's talk of further refurbishment at a 58-year-old racetrack once in danger of becoming obsolete. It all happened because three track presidents believed. It all happened because ISC was willing to spend capital improvement dollars. It all happened because fans showed up.
And it all happened, strangely enough, because Darlington lost a race.
The opinions expressed are solely those of the writer.
| POPULAR ALERTS | ||||
|