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TALLADEGA, Ala. -- Ever wonder what it takes to put on a remote broadcast of QVC's For Race Fans Only? I ventured behind the scenes Friday night at the International Hall of Fame on the grounds of Talladega Superspeedway, where I chatted with host Dan Hughes as he prepared for an unscripted two hours in front of the camera with Jimmie Johnson, Darrell Waltrip, Jeff Gordon, some 300 fans and a host of racing-related collectibles.

Jeff Gordon will run a Pepsi-retro paint scheme at Talladega and you can get your official gear at the Superstore.
The idea behind a racing collectibles show was pitched to QVC in 1991, and after nine months of preparation, For Race Fans Only made its debut on April 1, 1992 with Richard Petty guesting in the studio. The first remote broadcast came two years later at Indianapolis Motor Speedway. And Friday night's broadcast will be the 546th For Race Fans Only program in a 17-year period. According to Tim Bertoni, senior executive vice president for TSI, that's 775 hours of racing-related programming.
For Gordon, it's his 23rd time on the show. In May, Dale Earnhardt Jr. will appear for the 16th, tying him with his father for second place in guest visits.
5 p.m. CT -- Two hours before Hughes will go live from Talladega, a staff of 30 QVC crewmembers is putting the finishing touches on the makeshift studio in the Hall of Fame's auditorium. The four trucks that comprise the For Race Fans Only caravan -- a production truck, satellite truck and two equipment trucks -- arrived Thursday. The crew began unloading and setup at dawn, and after the show goes off the air at 10 p.m., they'll have to strike the set and reload everything back into the haulers for the return trip to QVC's Pennsylvania headquarters.
The crew does this between 10 and 12 times a season, according to Bertoni, who will watch the broadcast from a spot in the control room. It's located in the center of the production truck, with a bank of large-screen televisions on one wall. The producer, director, sound and camera engineers all have chairs where they can monitor the different camera shots, taped inserts and satellite feeds to and from QVC headquarters.
The auditorium's stage will serve as the backdrop for the show, while lighting, booms, cameras, microphones and equipment are already in place. Cables snake along the floor, hidden under black cloth. And backup equipment -- everything from additional power cords to extra chairs -- is sitting loaded on rolling platforms, ready at a moment's notice.
In front of the stage are the original Pepsi sponsored car from Waltrip's museum and a 2009 Pepsi Challenger show car, identical to the one Gordon will be driving on Sunday. That's the theme surrounding tonight's show.

5:30 p.m. -- While the crew takes a dinner break, Hughes comes up and introduces himself. He has a small corner of the control truck to use as a personal studio, including a computer and monitor, and apologizes for having to change clothes while chatting.
"I don't usually start interviews by dropping my pants," Hughes says with a laugh. It's no surprise that Hughes was a stand-up comic before taking the job with QVC. He possesses a quick wit and an ability to come up with off-the-cuff remarks. A 20-year veteran and current host of The QVC Morning Show, Hughes has extensive experience in front of the camera, but readily admits -- with a hint of self-depreciation -- that he doesn't consider himself anything close to a television personality.
"I'll never be a TV guy. I'm just a guy who grew up in Indianapolis who was a race fan, buying stuff," Hughes says. "I knew I couldn't be the only guy who enjoyed it. Hopefully, I get to play the part of everybody who's sitting on the sofa at home, watching the show -- what they'd do if they had the opportunity."
Actually, Hughes is more than a race fan. He started racing late model stock cars as a teenager, competed in 72 USAC open-wheel races, finishing second four times. He still competes in the Legends series in the Northeast, and is planning on building a five-eighths mile, high-banked clay oval on his Pennsylvania farm, just so he and his buddies can race each other on the weekends.
5:45 p.m. -- Hughes has changed into a light yellow polo shirt with a retro Pepsi-Cola script logo, black slacks and shoes. There's a short break before he heads to makeup.
After more than 500 shows, does it get any easier?
"I should answer yes, but the truth is no," Hughes says. He admits to having butterflies before every show, although they immediately disappear as soon as the camera comes on and he gets into the show. His job is simple: represent the drivers, QVC and sell product. And he believes "the pressure's on me to do well."
5:55 p.m. -- Hughes is summoned from the production truck back inside the auditorium, where he enters a small triangular dressing room with four sinks and a row of lighted mirrors. Makeup stylist Linda Thacker is waiting there, brush in hand. It's a light application of makeup to remove the shine, just one skin shade darker on Hughes' face and arms to compensate for the bright lightning used in television.
6 p.m. -- The coordinating producer enters the room, hands Hughes a piece of paper and they go over a few of the key elements in tonight's show. It's Gordon's biography, which Hughes already knows by heart.

6:08 p.m. -- Hughes is done with makeup and heads back to the relative calm of the control truck, where he dabs a bit of baby oil on a cotton swab and brushes his fingernails. "It makes the cuticles disappear on camera," Hughes says. "Imagine how big your hands look in high definition on a 32-inch screen."
6:11 p.m. -- Hughes reaches into his bag and pulls out his IFB, an interruptible feedback earpiece that allows him to receive messages from the control room during the broadcast. Hughes makes it look easy, but hosting a show is a complicated endeavor. In addition to concentrating on what he's saying and the interaction with his guest, as many as five other people -- producers, directors and the floor manager -- could be talking in his ear at any given time. Somehow, his brain has to process all that information ... and somehow wrap up everything in exactly two hours.
He's friends with many of the drivers who visit the show, building relationships with mutual respect. He may be pitching products, but he genuinely cares about the interaction with the people on his show, and does an incredible amount of preparation.
"I get a chance to hang out with guys who are my friends," Hughes says. "And we just talk. Somehow, magically, the television cameras will go away and the monitors and all the lights and everything else. And it's kind of like, sitting on the sofa, just gabbing. That's the whole point of the appeal to the show, but that's also why it's been so fun to do all these years.
"I had the pleasure of working with Dale Earnhardt for 15 years. I was never in the inner circle, but few were. But I knew him well enough that if he saw me at the track, he'd walk up behind me and squeeze the back of my neck until my eyeballs popped out."
Earnhardt also figures into Hughes' most embarrassing moment on-air. It was a Valentine's Day simulcast from Daytona with Earnhardt. The two hours went without a hitch, but as Hughes was wrapping up things and thanking his guest, a somewhat tawdry double-entendre slipped out -- completely inadvertently.
"I said, 'I just thought of something. It's Valentine's Day. We've been plugging your sponsors all night long. Don't you want to plug your wife?' And the second it came out of my mouth, I thought, 'Oh, my gosh. This is the end of my career. I'm dead.' Dale looked up into thin air for 37 seconds and never said a word.
"Now he's 1,000 miles away from me but his eyes locked on mine, and I could feel the beads of sweat rolling down my back. Finally, he looks into the camera and says, 'Teresa, I love you and I'll see you tonight.' "

Hughes got off the air and immediately called Daytona to apologize.
"And I hear in the background this laughter that I had never heard before," Hughes said. "And I had known Dale for a few years. But it was a joyful, 4-year-old laugh. And it was Dale, laid out on the table. And he picks up the phone and says, 'Dan, I've got one question for you. Did you mean to say it?' And that was really the start of us being friends. That's the worst it ever got."
6:14 p.m. -- On his way to a microphone check on stage, Hughes spends a couple of minutes chatting with Steve Skipper, the official artist for the International Hall of Fame. Some of his work will be shown during tonight's show, and Hughes asks if he's nervous. Before Skipper can reply, Hughes says, "Well, if you aren't, I am."
By now, the audience is being briefed on what they can -- and cannot -- do during the broadcast. No flash photos. Cellphones set to vibrate. Cheer when given the signal. But by all means, have fun. More than 1,000 letters were sent, inviting fans to the show. At least 300 are in attendance, sitting on rows of seats and in three short bleachers.
6:19 p.m. -- The audience is here to see the drivers, but when Hughes appears on stage for the first time to check his IFB and wireless mike, he gets a loud ovation and waves. He has his fair share of devoted fans, as evidenced by the number of people in the seats instead of watching the end of the ARCA race a few hundred yards away.
6:22 p.m. -- While the crew makes sure the lighting is correct, Hughes checks out the location of each camera.
6:29 p.m. -- With 30 minutes to go, it's time for a short live promo tease. Hughes patiently waits for the current on-air host to throw him the cue, and as the audience cheers, he deftly and succinctly describes the who, what, where and when. After the cutaway, he does a mock curtsy, drawing laughs from the audience.
6:31 p.m. -- Now it's a chance for some audience interaction. Hughes comes down to an area in front of the chairs and begins to shake hands and converse with people in the front row. He's handed a set of trivia questions, with the winners receiving diecasts and Pepsi products.
"I don't need this," Hughes says to the audience. "I've known Jeff since we raced together back in Indiana."

6:36 p.m. -- Hughes takes questions from the audience. Does he remember the time he wore a pink shirt? How many races did he win? What happened to Murphy, the QVC mascot dog? And in an ironic twist, one young boy asks Hughes if he knows how many Nationwide wins Dale Jr. has. Hughes guesses incorrectly. The answer is 22, which gets the kid a diecast and six pack of Pepsi Throwback.
6:42 p.m. -- It's back outside for a final production meeting and one last chance to calm the nerves. Hughes and the staff go over the major points. Hughes reiterates, "Talk to me. Keep me loose."
6:48 p.m. -- Hughes disappears into the control truck for "one last swig of Listerine."
6:49 p.m. -- Bertoni stops Hughes in the hallway to remind him to give special thanks to Jeff, Pepsi and Motorsports Authentics. Hughes repeats it quietly to himself twice, storing it somewhere to use later in the evening.
6:50 p.m. -- One last chance to pump up the audience.
6:56 p.m. -- Hughes spots a 91-year-old woman in a wheelchair who has a small gift bag. It's a present for Jeff's daughter, Ella. He promises he'll try to remember to give it to Jeff on-air, and asks if it's OK if they put her on camera during that segment.
6:57 p.m. -- As Hughes prepares to head back on stage, a little girl in the front row yells, "I love you, Dan."
6:58 p.m. -- Hughes gets a final touchup from Thacker and takes a sip of bottled water that he then places in an unobtrusive place behind the podium onstage.
6:59 p.m. -- It's one last glance at his notes and a deep breath.
7 p.m. -- Hughes smiles and as the audience screams their approval, he says, "Welcome, everybody to Talladega!"
7:02 p.m. -- Back in the dressing room, Johnson is leaning against the concrete wall, one foot propped up, waiting for a crewmember to bring him onstage. He can hear the show in his earpiece.
"It's always amazing to me what they have going on all at one time," Johnson says. "This stuff's not that difficult to do, to answer racing questions. That's a piece of cake."
7:13 p.m. -- Johnson is introduced to the crowd.
7:28 p.m. -- Johnson's back in the dressing room, gathers his things and says goodbye.

7:40 p.m. -- Waltrip waits in the wings, chatting with a few folks as Thacker uses a lint brush to lightly clean his shirt.
7:42 p.m. -- Waltrip gets the "six minutes" alert.
7:50 p.m. -- Gordon arrives and is escorted to the dressing room. While he waits for Thacker to prepare, he signs a few items placed in his hands. She dusts him lightly on the face, then begins to comb his hair and reaches for mousse.
"My face is fine, but touching my hair makes me nervous," Gordon says to the stylist. "I like my hair messy."
7:59 p.m. -- As Waltrip departs the stage, there's a short break as QVC promos run. The crew scurries about the stage, which gives Hughes a moment to catch his breath and prepare for the next hour.
8 p.m. -- The audience cheers as Gordon appears and Hughes says, "We're back with Jeff Gordon on QVC!"
9 p.m. -- Another For Race Fans Only is complete, and the crew immediately goes into action. It'll take close to two hours to tear down the set and load the truck for the trip back north.
Hughes admits the show is a delicate balance between entertainment and enterprise. Without the revenue generated by the products, the show can't survive. At the same time, the involvement by drivers gives viewers an additional reason to tune in.
"NASCAR is a big business," Hughes says. "There are certain business agendas that you want to follow that best support that driver or what he's doing for that evening.
"It's not just the interviews. If the shows didn't generate revenue, I wouldn't be here. It is a fine mix."