NASCAR Renegade Left Legacy
By PAUL NEWBERRY, The Associated Press
Tim Richmond was dying from AIDS, but his spirit was undaunted. On a sweltering summer day, he showed up for a race in Nashville, Tenn., wearing leather pants and a leather sport coat.
"It was in July, and it must have been 110 degrees," Darrell Waltrip recalled, his voice rising, his smile widening. "It was so hot that everybody else was running around in t-shirts and shorts. I'll never forget. We were over here at Nashville, and he was the grand marshal of a Busch race. He was going to start the race.
"He came down on the track to wish me well, and he got in the car with me when the race was getting ready to start. He was soaking wet. I don't know how he even moved in that suit. He said, 'C'mon, D.W., I'm riding with you.' I said, 'No man, you can't do that. You've got to get out, go back up there and start the race.'
"Richmond was a showman. He was a lot like me, but he was a little bit more outgoing. He loved to have a good time, and one of the funniest Tim Richmond stories that I can remember took place during the Southern 500 Darlington golf tournament. Richmond, probably Neil Bonnett and four guys total were on a golf cart going down a fairway. They had a bottle of rum in one hand and a golf club in the other. Richmond spun the thing around and threw them all off on the ground. They got up laughing and picking up all of their golf clubs. They turned the golf cart back up on all four wheels, and they took off again.
"The guy was just wide open all the time, and he would fit right in with this bunch of wild kids that we've got today."
By then, the ride was almost over. Richmond's meteoric life took the checkered flag far too soon, struck down by a reckless lifestyle and a terrible disease.
But, oh, what a legacy he left. Richmond crammed plenty of living into his 34 years, showing a penchant for going fast on the track — and faster outside the fence.
Many NASCAR fans came to the sport after Richmond's death in August 1989. They have no idea what they missed.
"This would have been a different sport if Tim Richmond had lived," driver-turned-owner Richard Childress said.
There are legendary stories about Richmond's sexual exploits, a steady line of women attracted to his rugged, movie-star looks and flamboyant lifestyle. Whispers continue about his alleged drug use, which led NASCAR to hastily come up with a testing program still in place today.
"How much of it was him and how much was a supplement?" seven-time Winston Cup champion Richard Petty said. "I'll always have that question in my mind."
Richmond denied using illegal drugs, and supporters say NASCAR relied on rumors to run him out of the sport in 1988. He was denied a chance to qualify at Daytona and never raced again. He hired a plane to pull a banner over the track during the Daytona 500: "Fans, I Miss You — Tim Richmond."
"Colorful doesn't do him justice," Waltrip said, shaking his head.
There's no denying Richmond's talent. He didn't race until age 21, but he was rookie of the year in the Indianapolis 500 four years later.
Switching to NASCAR, Richmond won 13 races during a stint that lasted less than seven years. In the ultimate tribute, he was voted one of the top 50 drivers in NASCAR's first 50 years, despite his brief time behind the wheel.
Richmond's greatest season was 1986, when he led the circuit with seven wins and wound up third in points. Late in the year, he checked into the Cleveland Clinic using a fake name and learned he had AIDS. At that time, it was a death sentence.
Claiming to be stricken with a severe case of pneumonia, Richmond raced only eight times in 1987. He still won consecutive races at Riverside and Pocono.
"When you watched Tim Richmond drive a race car, you could understand how Hank Aaron hit all those home runs," said former teammate Benny Parsons, now a TV commentator. "Certain people have a certain knack for things. He had a knack for getting the race car around the track."
Off the track, Richmond indulged in a lifestyle that put him at odds with the good ol' boys. While most drivers dined with their crews on Saturday night, he mingled with movie stars, celebrities and politicians. In a sport that embraced blue jeans and cowboy boots, he preferred garish outfits more suited to Hollywood.
"When no one around here was wearing colored socks, he was wearing fur," quipped friend and racing analyst Jerry Punch.
Outside of race cars, Richmond's preferred mode of transportation was limousines.
Imagine the reception he got around the garage. Even today, with an influx of drivers from the MTV generation, NASCAR is still viewed as the most conservative of the mainstream sports, an enduring legacy of its Southern roots. In the 1980s — when the sport was ruled by Petty, Bobby Allison and an up-and-comer named Dale Earnhardt — Richmond was a true renegade.
"When someone is totally different, you either look at that person with admiration or disdain," Parsons said. "There wasn't much in between with Tim Richmond. I mean, he would come to the racetrack in a limo. I would be like, 'You've got to come to the racetrack in a truck, man.' "
Richmond's penchant for the fast lane left a devastating wake. A former beauty queen said the driver infected her and numerous women with HIV, the virus that causes AIDS.
Even if Richmond had protected himself and others against the disease, he never would have realized his potential on the track without an epiphany, Parsons said.
"He had to change his lifestyle to be a NASCAR champion," the former teammate said. "With his lifestyle, he could go out and win six races a year. But there would also be six races a year where he was not fit to drive a car."
Richmond's death didn't appear to have much impact in the garage. After an initial shock, everyone moved on. The primary legacy is the drug-testing policy, which has been in the spotlight with several drivers testing positive over the past two years.
In an ironic twist, NASCAR conceded Richmond's positive drug test was for over-the-counter medication. Nothing more.
"It was a bad time," Petty said. "Let's just forget the whole thing, no matter how good he was."