Good Man Gone

Doc Mattioli was one of the most genuine, caring, committed individuals it has been my pleasure to know. After carving Pocono Raceway out of the mountains near Long Pond, he brought Indy Cars there first, then NASCAR.

Why, you ask, would NASCAR come to the back of beyond in Pennsylvania? Two reasons: the Philadelphia/New York market and Joe Mattioli.

You can read Doc's obit here, so you'll get a sense of the man and who he was. But those are just dry words on paper (or screen, as the case may be). What you won't read is what he was like and what you felt like when you were in his presence.

Back in the day, I was a young reporter for National Speed Sport News, attending the race at Pocono because it was only 2 hours from our office in New Jersey. One of the items on my agenda that weekend was the big party that Doc and his wife (also a doctor) Rose were throwing at Pocono Manor.

If you know anything about the Poconos, you know it was a big deal. I showed up, knowing hardly anyone, and Doc and Rose made sure I was introduced to People Who Matter (one of them was Roger Penske) and made to feel comfortable.

That two such august personages cared at all about some 22-year-old kid attending his first big event is astounding. That they saw to it themselves tells you why Doc and Rose are beloved by everyone they met.

Doc was a vigorous guy, charging around the track like he owned it (which makes sense) and doing hundreds of little things that no other track owner I've ever met does. I once walked into the Media Center in the old days and caught him emptying one of the trash barrels. I tried to get him to let me do it, but he refused, thanking me for offer, and took out the trash himself.

You knew that whenever you met Doc, whether it was at Pocono or in New York at the banquet or at Indy or wherever, he would have a good word for you, administer a hearty slap on the back and cut loose with a genuine laugh.

Rose, his wife of 63 years, was a fitting companion for someone like Doc, always being the perfect compliment to his hail-fellow-well-met style by being refined and proper...with a bit of the mischievious thrown in.

It was Rose who came up with the idea of building a lounge for the drivers and their families, and Doc who made it happen. She has always looked out for the ladies at the rough-hewn race track, and still does to this day.

When you met the two of them, they'd run through their routine and you'd leave feeling better. Since Doc was a dentist and Rose a podiatrist, the mantra always went, "From nose to toes, Joe and Rose."

Good-bye, Doc. Thanks for the memories and thanks for being who you were. I know Pocono would never have existed without you, and today would be the asparagus farm it was before you came up with the idea of making a race track out of it.

And to Rose, I've never met a classier lady, and I offer heartflet condolences on the loss of your husband. He was a grand man, and I enjoyed every minute of the time I spent with him. To the rest of the family, I also express my sincere condolences and issue this reminder: you have very large shoes to fill, and I know you'll put Doc's advice first as you go on.