Posted: Thu Jul 19, 2007 1:02 pm
I wasn't going to post again and I wish I had kept my big mouth shut in the first place but it's amazing what flattery will do.
So far it looks to me like much heat but litttle light. If we are going to complain we need to get more specific. At the moment it looks as if all we have is "Greg Connor is the wrong man for the job." I've got to admit I'm sorry to hear that because Greg has always been gracious and helpful in my dealings with him. A wise man told me years ago that: "If you're going to BE in charge, make sure you TAKE charge." Making decisions is Greg's job. Some of them are going to be wrong. I'm sure lots of things have happened about which I know nothing. I'm not arguing, just trying to explain my general attitude. Not sweating the small stuff is important in most situations. I'm not saying I'm good at it. Sure, the stuff looks a bit larger when it's happening to you.
Had there been no windstorm, how much better would we feel about this Nationals? Maybe it would help if we put complaints about the handling of that problem in a separate box for the moment.
We've got the trophies vs. NRA points issue. I agree that trophies are important to new folks, young and old. My little trophy from '02 (7th, AA, HP Standard, one match) is kinda important to me just because it's from the Nationals.
Then, I guess we have a broad area of gripes that sound something like "Half-hearted, semi-competent organization in general, including delegation of duties to people who seem to know nothing about the sport." Maybe this is the area to get more specific. I don't think we get anywhere leaving it at that.
I'm pushing 60 years old. In what seems like another life, I did motorcycle road racing for 14 years. I did a lot of endurance racing with a team including twin brothers from Houston, Gerold and Earl Smith. They were very modest, unassuming people who happened to be terrific athletes. I found out by accident that they had run the Dallas Marathon and asked them their times. They had both broken 2:50 and I didn't even know they were runners! They had never mentioned it. Gerold had gone to Honolulu and run THAT marathon in 3:07 the next weekend!
Anyway, they decided one year to make one of the major AMA professional races either in Pocono, PA or Loudon, New Hampshire, I forget. They somehow get two TZ 250 Yamahas and their tools and gear in a van and drive more than halfway across the country. They arrive on a Thursday and it's raining. No prob, AMA road races are run rain or shine. But they need rain tires to qualify on Friday, so they buy and mount about $500 worth of tires. This is in the early 80's.
Friday it rains so they risk their necks slithering around and get qualified. Saturday, it rains and people start to notice that the grandstands are near empty. "Dont worry," says the AMA. "The show will go on."
Sunday, it's raining. My friends are sitting in a garage when one of the greats, a Southern Boy named Dale Singleton happens by. "Dale, there's a hundred people in the stands. They must have pre-sold at least a couple thousand tickets. Whadda you think is gonna happen?"
"Well, boys," says Dale. "Obviously somebody is gonna have to bend over and grab their ankles on this one. You tell me. Will it be the fans or the AMA or the riders?"
Gerold and Earl looked at Dale and then at each other and started loading the van. When the race was officially cancelled about noon, they were ready to hit the road. Broke, but with some nice, new rain tires.
"Good Lord," says I. "How did you keep from commiting suicide?" They just laughed. "We've got some family in Michigan so we just swung over there for a little visit on the way home. It wasn't so bad."
I really admired those guys. Wonder what they're up to now. Bet they're having fun.
So far it looks to me like much heat but litttle light. If we are going to complain we need to get more specific. At the moment it looks as if all we have is "Greg Connor is the wrong man for the job." I've got to admit I'm sorry to hear that because Greg has always been gracious and helpful in my dealings with him. A wise man told me years ago that: "If you're going to BE in charge, make sure you TAKE charge." Making decisions is Greg's job. Some of them are going to be wrong. I'm sure lots of things have happened about which I know nothing. I'm not arguing, just trying to explain my general attitude. Not sweating the small stuff is important in most situations. I'm not saying I'm good at it. Sure, the stuff looks a bit larger when it's happening to you.
Had there been no windstorm, how much better would we feel about this Nationals? Maybe it would help if we put complaints about the handling of that problem in a separate box for the moment.
We've got the trophies vs. NRA points issue. I agree that trophies are important to new folks, young and old. My little trophy from '02 (7th, AA, HP Standard, one match) is kinda important to me just because it's from the Nationals.
Then, I guess we have a broad area of gripes that sound something like "Half-hearted, semi-competent organization in general, including delegation of duties to people who seem to know nothing about the sport." Maybe this is the area to get more specific. I don't think we get anywhere leaving it at that.
I'm pushing 60 years old. In what seems like another life, I did motorcycle road racing for 14 years. I did a lot of endurance racing with a team including twin brothers from Houston, Gerold and Earl Smith. They were very modest, unassuming people who happened to be terrific athletes. I found out by accident that they had run the Dallas Marathon and asked them their times. They had both broken 2:50 and I didn't even know they were runners! They had never mentioned it. Gerold had gone to Honolulu and run THAT marathon in 3:07 the next weekend!
Anyway, they decided one year to make one of the major AMA professional races either in Pocono, PA or Loudon, New Hampshire, I forget. They somehow get two TZ 250 Yamahas and their tools and gear in a van and drive more than halfway across the country. They arrive on a Thursday and it's raining. No prob, AMA road races are run rain or shine. But they need rain tires to qualify on Friday, so they buy and mount about $500 worth of tires. This is in the early 80's.
Friday it rains so they risk their necks slithering around and get qualified. Saturday, it rains and people start to notice that the grandstands are near empty. "Dont worry," says the AMA. "The show will go on."
Sunday, it's raining. My friends are sitting in a garage when one of the greats, a Southern Boy named Dale Singleton happens by. "Dale, there's a hundred people in the stands. They must have pre-sold at least a couple thousand tickets. Whadda you think is gonna happen?"
"Well, boys," says Dale. "Obviously somebody is gonna have to bend over and grab their ankles on this one. You tell me. Will it be the fans or the AMA or the riders?"
Gerold and Earl looked at Dale and then at each other and started loading the van. When the race was officially cancelled about noon, they were ready to hit the road. Broke, but with some nice, new rain tires.
"Good Lord," says I. "How did you keep from commiting suicide?" They just laughed. "We've got some family in Michigan so we just swung over there for a little visit on the way home. It wasn't so bad."
I really admired those guys. Wonder what they're up to now. Bet they're having fun.