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FIGURE 8 : X Marks a Rather Dangerous Spot at Saugus Speedway, Where a Field of Zany Drivers Test Their Nerve in a Ritual of Mechanized Mayhem and Crazy Eights

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Times Staff Writer

Figure 8 stock car drivers are, well, difficult to figure.

Consider their idea of fun. Why would anyone willingly spend a Saturday night screeching around the track at Saugus Speedway with two dozen other drivers in 20-year-old, beat-up Chevys, sometimes smashing into each other, sometimes slamming into a wall--sometimes smashing into each other and then slamming into a wall--and sometimes, but not often, navigating the 15-lap course without leaving so much as a speck of rubber on the track before crossing the finish line and collecting a whopping prize of $300?

“Because they’re crazy, “ Saugus track announcer Jim Weaver says.

Says Dave Blankenship of Reseda: “I agree.”

Go figure.

Blankenship, who scoots around with a stuffed Wile E. Coyote hanging out the rear window of his blue Chevelle, may be the craziest driver at Saugus. Yet he is probably the most skilled at figure 8. Blankenship, 29, Saugus’ Hobby Stock division champion in 1986 and ‘87, is the current points leader in the Street Stock division and has won one figure 8 main event this season.

“It’s fun,” he says. “Until you get nailed in the intersection.”

The threat of a T-bone collision at 60 m.p.h. does little to discourage Blankenship or other racers from driving themselves crazy in Saugus’ traditional Saturday night closing event. “You don’t have time to think about it,” he says. “You can’t worry.”

Figure 8 racing can be as unnerving to watch as a firing squad. “It’s terrifying,” Street Stock driver Bill McLean, 42, of Canoga Park says. “It’s far worse to watch than it is to drive.”

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But it also can be as hilarious as a destruction derby. It is a destruction derby. The event is run on a figure 8 track that requires drivers to pass through an intersection in which the right of way is rarely yielded. The track quickly becomes engulfed in smoke from screeching tires, resulting in near-zero visibility. Meanwhile drivers attempt to squeeze between speeding cars. One slip of the steering wheel and. . . .

“Bingo!” says Hobby Stock driver Brian Kelley of Arleta.

The smoke clears, a winner is declared, any loose parts are swept from the track and Weaver cheerfully advises the fans to drive safely on the way home.

“I’ve raced everything imaginable, but I’ve never raced figure 8,” says Weaver, who has two artificial knees from racing injuries and proudly claims to have broken every bone in his body. “Going around the track at 170 m.p.h. doesn’t bother me a bit because everybody’s going the same direction and you know what to expect. But these guys are insane. They’re a few bricks shy of a load.”

Perhaps figure 8 racers do have a lug nut loose upstairs. Or maybe they just have everyone fooled into believing it doesn’t take skill to succeed in these laps of lunacy.

“The guys are good drivers,” Saugus promoter Ray Wilkings says. “They move fast and they do a lot of spinning when they have to, and if a guy doesn’t think he’s going to make it through, he’ll go wide. Once in a while they don’t time it quite right and. . . .”

Bingo! The Saugus figure 8 faithful have witnessed their share of smashes this season. Don’t try this at home:

Hobby Stock driver Mike Branam, 42, of Lakeview Terrace forced a red flag--a command for every driver to stop immediately--when his car flipped, landed on its roof and skidded into a wall. “I don’t like that wall,” he said. “It doesn’t give.

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“There I was, hanging upside down, my seat belt the only thing holding me in, and wondering, ‘If I pull this release, is it going to drop me on my head and dent my new helmet?’ ”

Branam unbuckled, dented his helmet and crawled from the wreckage unhurt.

Kelley, 21, who refers to Hobby Stocks as “the dirt clods of Saugus,” has taken three figure 8 checkered flags this year. But he also has suffered the consequences of the crossroads.

“I nailed a guy full-on once,” he said. “Bent my frame, wrecked my whole front suspension, radiator, transmission--it cost me about $500.

“Me? Just a sore neck, nothing big. It hurt my pride more than my neck.”

No one seems to enjoy telling tales of crackups more than McLean.

“Which time?” he said. “Once I got knocked sideways in the intersection and a guy hit me head-on. It destroyed the car. Everything broke.

“Me? The next day I was fine.”

Then there is the time McLean slammed into a bale of hay near the pit entrance. “Knocked me stupid,” he said. “The fire department had a good time with that one. They had to cut the car all up to get me out.”

Every figure 8 driver seems to have a favorite yarn about a crash. But no one, it seems, can offer an adequate explanation for why they jeopardize their safety for so little reward.

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“There’s something about that intersection,” Kelley said.

Blankenship states it simply: “It’s fun.”

Yeah? So is traction.

There has to be a logical reason for racing figure 8. And there is: points. Figure 8 adds another dimension to the race for the Street Stock and Hobby Stock division championships. Results of both oval and figure 8 races weigh evenly in the points standings.

“If a guy in that division wants to run oval only, he winds up with half the points,” Wilkings said. “Some guys won’t run figure 8.”

But they are the minority, McLean says. “If you’re going to come out here, you may as well run the program,” he said.

Says Kelley: “I want to get in as much racing as I can. And you gotta have the points.”

And Saugus must fill its stands, which figure 8 does. It satisfies the destructive bent in those who like to see cars crash, but don’t like to crash cars.

“I know what the crowd likes to see,” said Branam, who admittedly has a reputation for reckless driving. “I don’t hesitate to go through the intersection.”

Rick Crow, 25, of Canyon Country, a crowd favorite, is in the thick of each Hobby Stock race, although he has yet to win at figure 8. “Most of the fans are bloodsuckers,” he said. “They want to see four or five crashes a night. I could do that and then spend the next few days putting my car back together. And I have a big pit crew--me, myself, and I.”

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“When I crash in figure 8,” Kelley said, “little kids come down to the pits and ask me for my autograph. When I win the main, it’s like they never heard of me.”

Those who trek to the track yearning for blood, guts and flying fenders have been disappointed over the years, according to Wilkings. “I’ve been at Saugus over 20 years,” he said. “And I don’t remember anyone ever getting in a serious crash--not the kind where we had to take them to the hospital. The cars have very good roll cages and if they get hit they don’t crumble.”

In addition to structural reinforcement, gas tanks are placed inside steel boxes and stored inside the trunk. Drivers buckle up tightly and all cars must pass a safety inspection by track officials before leaving the pits. “It’s really not that dangerous,” Wilkings said.

Actually, it is very simple: drive a car through an intersection 30 times and emerge unscathed. Strategy involves a blend of brains, skill and mostly nerve.

“It’s timing, basically,” Blankenship said. “You’re looking at the opposite corner as you come out of one corner and decide whether you’re going to go in front of him or behind him. You can lay off the throttle a little if there’s a question that you’ll come together. But if you really slow down, you lose a lot of time. And if you stop, you can get hit from behind or by a car going through the intersection.

“You never want to stop or spin around. It costs you the lead.”

Others consider it no more than an organized game of chicken.

“It’s all psychological, a mind game,” Crow said. “I walk through the pits and tell everyone ‘When I go through the X, I’m not stopping for no one,’ and people know I won’t. Ask anyone out there, ‘Does Crow stop in the intersection?’ and they’ll tell you. I won’t stop.

Almost as dreaded as getting smacked in the intersection is being tagged with a reputation of avoiding it. It is a driver’s bane. “Then shame on you,” Branam said. “You back off once and you’ll be expected to do it every time. Don’t hesitate.”

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Easier said than done to step on the gas while on a sure collision course with the front bumper of a ’68 Chevelle. Others consider discretion the better part of valor--and the key to figure 8.

“I go defensive,” Blankenship said. “I’d rather finish second and bring the car--and me--home in one piece than go for it and not make it.

“I tossed away a race one night because I had to get off the throttle. A guy passed me and went on to win. But I’ll tell you, I went home with me and the car in one piece and was racing again the next time out.”

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