Uncle Bobby Likes It; He Really Likes It
I had just finished playing 18 holes of golf last summer and was packing up my bag when my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number, didn’t even recognize the area code, but answered it anyway, as I usually do.
I’m glad I did.
“Art, I love your @#*#%*%^&% book.”
It was Bobby Unser. If you’re a race fan, even a casual fan, you’d recognize the voice of the three-time Indy 500 winner and former outspoken television commentator.
The publisher had sent out an early e-version of the book to a couple of the drivers I’d interviewed for Black Noon and asked for a comment. I’m sure it was also another way of fact checking the book. Unser had received the book three days earlier and said he read it immediately. Twice. That’s when he called. Somehow he had saved my phone number from our interviews more than a year earlier.
"Bought back memories I’d long forgotten or tried to forget,” said Unser, affectionately known as Uncle Bobby. “And you captured the spirit of the era. That’s the most important thing to me. You captured the era.”
Which was great to hear. That was one of my goals in writing the book. It was a different era. Without private jets and luxury motor coaches. When entire race teams slept on cots in the rented garage of a home near the Speedway. When Bobby Unser needed Parnelli Jones to arrange for $1,000 in expense money so he could make the trip to Indianapolis. When, as Bobby told me when I first interviewed him, drivers figured they had a 50/50 chance of being killed in a race car – and accepted those odds.
“They want me to write something for the book,” Unser went on. “I’m not a writer. You’re the writer. Put something together and I’ll look at it.”
Which was a lot harder than it sounds. Probably the hardest thing I wrote for the book. Of course I wanted it to be good, but not too good. I tried to draw on his comments on the phone and sent it to him to review.
This time he didn’t like it.
“You need to pump it up,” Bobby said. “Probably not fair of me to ask you to write it. Okay, I’ll Unserize it and send it back to you.”
And that’s what he did. If you haven’t seen it, his full blurb follows. Thanks much Uncle Bobby.
"Black Noon captures the era when I first started racing at Indianapolis and brought back a lot of memories—good and bad—that I had long forgotten. It was a hard time to be a race driver; we figured there was a 50/50 chance of being killed in a race car. And unfortunately that was acceptable. That is truly the scary part.
The accident that stopped the ’64 race and killed Eddie Sachs and Dave MacDonald was absolutely terrible--possibly the worst I ever saw. But it also forced our sport to change and put a new emphasis on safety. We all thank God for Bill Simpson and Goodyear Tire Co, as they were the leaders in safety for that day. This is one of the best racing books I've read and covers an important part of our history that often goes overlooked. I'd recommend it for everyone from the racing historian to the casual sports fan.”
I’m glad I did.
“Art, I love your @#*#%*%^&% book.”
It was Bobby Unser. If you’re a race fan, even a casual fan, you’d recognize the voice of the three-time Indy 500 winner and former outspoken television commentator.
The publisher had sent out an early e-version of the book to a couple of the drivers I’d interviewed for Black Noon and asked for a comment. I’m sure it was also another way of fact checking the book. Unser had received the book three days earlier and said he read it immediately. Twice. That’s when he called. Somehow he had saved my phone number from our interviews more than a year earlier.
"Bought back memories I’d long forgotten or tried to forget,” said Unser, affectionately known as Uncle Bobby. “And you captured the spirit of the era. That’s the most important thing to me. You captured the era.”
Which was great to hear. That was one of my goals in writing the book. It was a different era. Without private jets and luxury motor coaches. When entire race teams slept on cots in the rented garage of a home near the Speedway. When Bobby Unser needed Parnelli Jones to arrange for $1,000 in expense money so he could make the trip to Indianapolis. When, as Bobby told me when I first interviewed him, drivers figured they had a 50/50 chance of being killed in a race car – and accepted those odds.
“They want me to write something for the book,” Unser went on. “I’m not a writer. You’re the writer. Put something together and I’ll look at it.”
Which was a lot harder than it sounds. Probably the hardest thing I wrote for the book. Of course I wanted it to be good, but not too good. I tried to draw on his comments on the phone and sent it to him to review.
This time he didn’t like it.
“You need to pump it up,” Bobby said. “Probably not fair of me to ask you to write it. Okay, I’ll Unserize it and send it back to you.”
And that’s what he did. If you haven’t seen it, his full blurb follows. Thanks much Uncle Bobby.
"Black Noon captures the era when I first started racing at Indianapolis and brought back a lot of memories—good and bad—that I had long forgotten. It was a hard time to be a race driver; we figured there was a 50/50 chance of being killed in a race car. And unfortunately that was acceptable. That is truly the scary part.
The accident that stopped the ’64 race and killed Eddie Sachs and Dave MacDonald was absolutely terrible--possibly the worst I ever saw. But it also forced our sport to change and put a new emphasis on safety. We all thank God for Bill Simpson and Goodyear Tire Co, as they were the leaders in safety for that day. This is one of the best racing books I've read and covers an important part of our history that often goes overlooked. I'd recommend it for everyone from the racing historian to the casual sports fan.”
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