iNSIDE SCOOP: Death of a Legend

You can snicker every time you say the name "Dick Trickle," but you had best do so with respect.

The man, who sadly took his own life on Thursday near Boger City, N.C., was a flat racin' fool, and he could beat you on the track one minute and stand in your trailer helping you with setups after he got done in Victory Lane.

Trickle, 71, won more than 1,000 short-track races during his career in the Midwest, running the old American Speed Association, ARTGO and Fox River Racing Club circuits, as well as local tracks all over his native Wisconsin and the upper Midwest.

Dick Trickle was a legend, no matter how you cut such things. He was a threat to win the race every time he towed into the track, and if he didn't, he'd be in the top five. He was a professional racer, back when professional racers were few and far between. He raced six or seven nights a week, winning better than half of them in a given stretch.

He was, in short, The Man.

I got to work with Trickle in 1986 and 1987, when he was with the ASA. Coors Light was the sponsor, and he ran a Camaro crew-chiefed by Victor Getzloff. Of course, it carried Trickle's famed No. 99. If Trickle wasn't at the front, he was near it, and he won a lot of races. And, drank a lot of beer, too, which was cool because he was sponsored by a company that made beer. 

When you saw Trickle, he had a cigarette in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. Always. It was strange to see him without either one. And, that was true in the car as well. It was nothing to see Trickle with a Winston dangling from his lip while in the cockpit, goggles seated on his face and helmet snugged down on his head. He had a holder for his smokes and his lighter inside the car for caution flags, and during a red flag at Birmingham one rainy night, he sent a crewman to the concession stand for a cuppa Joe. 

That's no lie. I was there. I saw it. 

He wasn't shy about his success, either. He had the ear of every young gun in the Midwest, starting with Rusty Wallace, Mark Martin, Ted Musgrave, Alan Kulwicki and so on down the line. They listened, too. Kenny Wallace was a student of the Trickle Method of Racing, along with Bobby Dotter, Butch Miller, Gary St. Amant and many others.

Trickle raced with guys like Tom Jomes, Mike Eddy, Bob Senneker, Joe Shear and Frank Gawlinski in the Midwest, and that's a group that has won more races than just about any other five you want to name.

At the age of 47, Trickle stepped into the No. 84 Miller High Life machine driven by Mike Alexander when the latter was injured. He never left. He's the oldest "rookie" of the year in NASCAR history at 48, and while he never won a NASCAR Sprint Cup Steries race, he did win twice in the NASCAR Nationwide Series, and he was always a hard-charging, fair-driving guy with the capability to win.

He raced for NASCAR legend Junie Donlavey, too, and the pair of them made a lot of money driving Donlavey's beloved Fords with Heilig-Meyers sponsorship.

Eventually, though, Father Time caught up with the White Knight, and chronic chest pain led him to take his own life in that cemetery.

I don't really understand why, but then again, it's not essential that I do. It happened, we mourn, we move on.

Dick Trickle was one of the last true unique drivers in the sport. He was bright, could explain things in terms that did not have 500 sponsor mentions and a cute gimmick phrase in them. When you asked Trickle a question, you got an answer, the best one he could give, and it was from the heart.

That's not a cut on today's drivers; they do what they have to do. But Trickle was a throwback, and that's rare these days.

God Bless you, Dick Trickle. I hope you're enjoying a Winston and the best cup of coffee you ever had. We'll miss you.