NASCAR Racer Brett Bodine - Brett Bodine: A Will To Succeed

"Some great friends of ours who need to remain anonymous financed the buyback," says Bodine. "It was tough trying to run the team and be in court constantly. Thank God, Diane handled most of that. Most people had no idea what was going on because we didn't want any publicity."

In spite of the distractions and sans a top 10 on the track, Bodine cracked $1 million in earnings for the first time, a $1.281 million gross. "With the $3 million Paychex sponsorship, $200,000 from associate sponsors, and the earnings, we spent $4.4 million, almost exactly what we took in, everything we had," Bodine says.

Diane has been the team's biggest asset, Bodine says. "She's right up front," he says. "There is no hidden agenda. You know where you stand with her. She's my biggest supporter--and critic. She's a driving force."

The two met at the Race of Champions, a prestigious NASCAR Modified event at Pocono, Pennsylvania, and were married six months later in 1980. "I guess we were meant for each other," Bodine says. "But what she saw in me at the time I don't know. I was rock-bottom, didn't have two nickels to rub together. Love is blind, though. It's a wonderful relationship." Their daughter, Heidi, works for the company, as does Diane's twin sister, Donna, the wife of Donnie Richeson, Bodine's former crew chief. Let's see, is that Donna or Diane?

In spite of the ordeal, Bodine is happy he fought for his team. "First, we didn't want to be in position for a car owner to control our destiny," he says. "Second, I was knocked unconscious and broke my arm in a wreck at Dover. I realized that at any moment I could be out of the driving business, and I want to be in this sport always."

A Fresh Start
For the first time in four years, Bodine opened this season free of turmoil, though he still has debt. But he wasn't expecting any more miracles. His team has about half the space (13,000 square feet) and primary sponsorship ($3.7 million), and two-thirds the people (22) the leading outfits have.

"Paychex is a savior," he says. "Their advertising budget is certainly not as large as the bigger companies in racing, but they came into Winston Cup for the first time with a team that wasn't doing well."

Then there's the battle with multicar teams, which proliferate and win most of the races. Bodine admits that in terms of tests, data, and difficulty in getting sponsors, single-car teams are at a dis-advantage. He says the media has created the perception, though, that a single-car team can't compete against the giants. He disagrees with the perception, but says it's hard to overcome.

"I need to partner with someone on chassis and aerodynamics," Bodine says, "although Ford Motor Company has begun to give us engineering help. Actually, I am a part of a multicar operation, a satellite of (five-team) Roush Racing, which does all of my engine building and development. Sure, the multicar teams are winning, but it's one car, at the most two, and the others are questionable. There has to be animosity, management problems, and competitive groups within a multicar organization. The advantages of a single-car team are the ability to manage a smaller number of people and the absence of the competitive aspect that tears multicar teams apart."

Bodine's short-term goals are to qualify and race in the top 15 and finish in the top 20 in championship points. He believes that can be accomplished in a year. "There are different levels within Winston Cup," he says. "I want to compete consistently at one level, then go to the next. I'm not saying that I can win races. That's unrealistic at this time." Long-term, Bodine wants to be a winner as an owner/driver; in 10 years or so, he hopes to put a hot young driver in his cars.

Bodine has enjoyed memorable moments in Winston Cup, even though the two biggest were marked, or marred, by controversy. Competitors questioned his Winston Cup victory at North Wilkesboro after the pace car mistakenly picked up another car, not his, as the leader during a late-race caution. NASCAR corrected the error, but not to everyone's understanding and satisfaction.

In the inaugural Brickyard 400 at Indianapolis in 1994, Bodine finished second, but the feat was overshadowed by a bumping incident that bared a brotherly spat to the world. Geoff and Brett weren't on speaking terms. With Brett leading, Geoff bumped Brett sideways, but he recovered. Now, Brett is a truly nice guy with a pleasant disposition and seemingly even temper, but the incident made him mad. Brett retaliated, bumping Geoff--"Harder then I intended," he says--into a spin and an ensuing wreck with Dale Jarrett. In interviews, Geoff attributed the incident to the dispute. "I was disappointed at what he said," Brett says. "I would never take anything like that to the racetrack. That's no place for it. What he neglected to say is that he bumped me first."

The siblings didn't speak to each other for another year, but the good news is that the rift has been resolved--largely by a cousin and minister who called the two together at his church. "That meeting broke the ice," says Brett. "Our relationship now has never been better, and I don't think could be any better." Brett credits Geoff with paving the way for him into the NASCAR Busch and Winston Cup series.

Brett Bodine seems to be more readily available for appearances and charitable events than some of his more accomplished peers. "I feel strongly about my obligation to my sponsors and to the people who support our sport," he says. "I don't look at myself as special or important because I drive a race car. There are people in the world that do. If I can influence those people to support a charity, or a sponsor to get involved in the sport I dearly love and want to be a part of the rest of my life, then I do it. It's my obligation and commitment."

Bodine anticipates more memorable moments down the road. He says not winning races tears him up something terrible, and it's difficult at times to stay self-motivated. It appears, however, that he has already scored his greatest victory, one that isn't listed on the track record.