The Talk of the Speedway : Rimshots Rule at the Race Track When Phil Fouke Takes the Mike

The speed and danger of auto racing generally leave no room for humor. Laughter and race tracks would be on most lists of unlikely combinations. Right up there with Elizabeth Taylor and golden wedding anniversaries.

Unless, of course, you’re at Saugus Speedway.

“There’s a blue camper in the parking lot and your dog has set off the alarm,” a voice booms over the public address system. “Now he’s taking your stereo.”

The crowd of nearly 5,000 laughs.

Then the voice pleads: “Really. I don’t write these. We do get some strange ones around here.”

Phil Fouke is the reason that there’s laughter at Saugus Speedway. Nearly every Saturday night from March through October, Fouke can be found in the press box, lashing out with a sarcastic wit at whatever confronts him. Most of the time, he’s funny. Sometimes he’s silly. But he’s always entertaining.

During a race, a concession vendor whom Fouke regularly picks on does something that attracts the crowd’s attention. An opportunity has arrived for comment.

“Richard is insane,” Fouke announces. “They let him out for the races, then they lock him up again when it’s all over with.”

The crowd laughs again.

No written lines, no cue cards. Fouke just calls it like he sees it, and hopes he gets a laugh. He usually does.

“The crowd at Saugus is a pretty nice group,” Fouke said. “We’re all there to have a good time. If I can reach out and help someone have a good time, then I feel I’ve done what I’m supposed to do. It really is satisfying.”

The crowd often joins the show. Folks will bring personal messages or particularly silly jokes to the press box, and Fouke happily reads them. Such items usually elicit a humorous follow-up comment from Fouke. The fans and Fouke see it all as part of the fun.

“They’ll hand me the worst jokes and they know it,” Fouke said. “And they know I’ll read them.”

Fouke began announcing in Pennsylvania on a rock ‘n’ roll radio station in the early 1960s. He later moved to Southern California where he attended USC as a communications student. He left the school in 1966 to work for KWHY-TV Channel 22 announcing the stock and financial reports.

That’s where Fouke honed his ability to deal quickly with constantly changing situations.

“It was dealing with a stock market that was always fluctuating that started a kind of spontaneity,” Fouke said. “It was developed over the years.

“I also think it’s kind of a gift. I don’t know how it works, but I’m glad that it does.”

Ask Fouke his age and he answers: “Somewhere between 40 and death. But I look 32. All that clean living, ya know.”

He’s in his third year with the Speedway and has become a comfortable fixture during his short association with the track.

“It’s like a family,” Fouke said. “We don’t have ego problems there. We do have problems, but we can sit and work them out.”

Fouke, from Port Hueneme, was a reluctant applicant when the announcing job opened up at the Speedway three years ago. His girlfriend talked him into applying and he got the job after an interview with the track owner, the late Marshall Wilkings.

Announcing is not Fouke’s only job. He also works the motorcycle speedway races at Ventura Raceway on Tuesday nights. When Saugus Speedway closes down for the winter, Fouke stays busy. He is the general manager of an energy systems firm, works local fairs and has various announcing jobs around the state.

Fairs are a big deal for Fouke, particularly the Ventura County Fair. He’s easy to find--just follow the voice. He announces the lemon pie baking competition.

“It’s tough to make lemon pie baking sound exciting,” Fouke said. “But if you can do that, you can announce almost anything.”

Opportunities for silliness are more prevalent at the Speedway. One of the funniest things Fouke witnessed occurred during the Ego Challenge race.

The Ego Challenge offers the general public a chance at racing glory. For $14, a driver can race his own car solo against the clock on the one-third mile oval track. Drivers get two laps to gun it for a shot at the first-place trophy.

“A guy showed up with a brand-new Trans Am with less than 1,000 miles on it,” Fouke said. “We’re talking brand new, right off the showroom floor.

“He put it squarely into the wall in turn three. It was damaged to the point where they had to put it on a flatbed truck and drive it away.

“I said, ‘What’s he going to tell his insurance company?’ over the P.A.”

Even though Fouke looks like he has it easy, announcing can be tough work. He does nothing in particular to prepare for a race, but sometimes is so drained after one that he doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t even remember who won half the time, even though he’s an avid motor sports fan.

Said Fouke: “If someone asks me the next day who won the modified--damned if I know. When a race is over, it’s over in my mind and I’m on to the next event. It’s like a blackboard that’s erased clean.”

The final event is over at Saugus Speedway and the fans begin to file out toward the parking lots. They gather their blankets, bags and bleacher mats and walk down the stairs. Fouke turns serious for a moment.

“That concludes our racing schedule for tonight,” he says. “Please drive carefully and remember: The racing is for the track, not the highways.”

The lights go down until the next race.