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			1/23/14 
			 
			ON THE PLANE FROM TULSA 
			
			
			What a boon to the economy out there in Tulsa – and such 
			sweet thunder for race fans in winter.
  
			
			Over the last 27 years, the Chili Bowl has emerged as one of the 
			most engaging – and thrilling – annual events in all of motorsports. 
			For miles around the River Spirit Expo Center each second week in 
			January, all restaurants, bars, and hotels are three-deep with folks 
			colorfully branded with open-wheel shirts and paraphernalia.
  
			The facility itself is mind-boggling – a building sprawling enough 
			to accommodate a grandstand for 15,500, a near quarter-mile dirt 
			track, an adjacent pit area large enough for 300 Midgets, their 
			trailers, a trade show, likely 300 beer stands, and every Hooters 
			girl in mid-America.
  The five days of racing, weeding this 
			year’s crop of 281 entries down to 24 Saturday night A-mainers, went 
			by in a flash. Anyone who witnessed it will take home an impatience 
			for dragged-out events. For racers it spelled the end of tiresome 
			suggestions like, “You can’t win on the first lap” or “Let the race 
			come to you.” You‘re balls to the wall when the green drops or 
			you’re on your way home.
  On Sunday morning flying home, 
			everything still loomed so fresh, so large. It seemed natural to 
			lean over to the guy sitting next to me and ask him how many years 
			he had been coming.
  He smiled. “My name’s Bob Berryhill. 
			Let’s just say that I used to have a company called the Chili Bowl.” 
			As you can imagine, that was the end of reading the newspaper for 
			the rest of the flight.
  “I’m originally from Tulsa and have 
			been around racing forever. I got to be a hobby racer. Like my older 
			brother, I ran Midgets for years around Oklahoma and Arkansas. Sure 
			would have liked to go farther, but I had my family – and that 
			business.
  “A long time ago, my dad, a real entrepreneur, 
			started a little restaurant in Tulsa called the Chili Bowl. That was 
			fine, but it didn’t stop just there. You know the expression that a 
			bumblebee is not supposed to be able to fly because of its weight 
			and small wings, but it does. Well, that was us.
  “Over time 
			we started doing frozen chili in pans like bricks after hours and 
			delivering them to grocery stores in a ’47 Dodge. Hard, hard work, 
			but it began to grow. We were becoming a food-service business. 
			 “By the mid-eighties we were really cookin’. We were private 
			labeling for companies, Walmart and others. It’s hard to believe but 
			we were the largest frozen chili company in the country.
  “One 
			day I heard Emmett Hahn and Lanny Edwards were trying to start this 
			midwinter, indoor Midget race. I had known those guys for years, so 
			I called them to see if I could help. They said sure, so I sponsored 
			them. It was really an issue of me liking them and liking racing 
			rather than any commercial benefit. By that time I did not even have 
			a retail product to advertise.
  “It just seemed that back then 
			in 1987 everything merged together. You know, Tulsa used to be the 
			home of oil and oil exploration businesses before Houston. Their 
			expositions were what the Expo Center was built for. It was so 
			perfect. So was the location – right in the middle of the country 
			where everyone could reach it – with great local infrastructure. And 
			everyone could use some racing in January, the time of all the bowl 
			games. And didn’t my company name just sound perfect?
 
 
				
					
					
						
							
							.jpg)  | 
						 
			
						
							Bob Berryhill chows down on a 
							bowl of chili in a publicity shot for sale  of 
							his company. (File photo Tulsa World, Bryan 
							Hulbert Collection) | 
						 
					 
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			 “The first couple of years were so-so. A few 
			days before the first one, Rich Vogler flew down to help with the 
			PR. What a great guy. In the race he ended up beating just over 50 
			cars. At the time they were mostly local guys with local equipment. 
			 “But the racing was good. Emmett and Lanny were very clever to 
			use that same gumbo clay that Emmett knew from racing so long 
			himself on the adjacent fairgrounds track. They still store it and 
			bring it out, working it in, as they know how to do so well.
  
			“And, if Lanny is brilliant with the track surface, Emmett is the 
			same with marketing. He realized he had to spice things up a bit, so 
			he started bringing in more “name” drivers – the Swindells, Jeff 
			Gordon, etc.
  “By 1990 it was really hot. But Emmett had had 
			to do his magic. I remember one drivers’ meeting when the locals 
			were fussin’ about the hot dogs coming to town. Emmett told them, ‘I 
			don’t want to hear anymore. You guys are supposed to be race car 
			drivers and you run Midgets all year long. You should have a big 
			advantage. This is your chance to whup Tony Stewart, so buckle up 
			and get out there.’ Case closed.
  “I was still sponsoring the 
			show in 1990. But, by coincidence, on opening day that year I closed 
			the sale of my business to the Keebler food people. Of course, I 
			invited them to the event to see if they wanted to continue the 
			sponsorship, but the dirt-track environment was like pouring soup on 
			their suits. It wasn’t a golf tournament, so they left. But the 
			Chili Bowl name was a fixture, so it stayed.
  “I’ve been 
			coming often, though I had to miss a few with an illness. All I have 
			seen have been phenomenal. How about last night’s?! I will never 
			forget the year JJ Yeley and Tony Stewart went flat out, side by 
			side, lap after lap, both front wheels on both cars way up in the 
			air going down both straightaways. Pure motorized artistry.
  
			“It’s hard to know what will happen with the Chili Bowl next. I’m 
			sure that Emmett and Lanny have discussed bigger venues like the 
			Astrodome, but I’m not sure that would work. In my view, it’s the 
			intimacy of the Chili Bowl that is really special. The fans are 
			right on top of the action and they can communicate with the 
			competitors. It’s all right there. And rumor is – and I can imagine 
			it is true – that the Show Down for the Kart, Micros, etc., for the 
			younger racers the week before, pays for the whole two weeks. I 
			suspect, though, with Lucas and MAVTV we could see some future 
			developments.
  “In 1991, after my company sold, I went racing 
			with my son Aaron on the World of Outlaws tour. He was Rookie of the 
			Year, a real thrill. And it was a big thrill to watch him beat Smoke 
			in a heat race at the Chili Bowl and go on to run fifth in the main 
			until getting boxed up with a couple to go.
  “Aaron got really 
			badly hurt in a sprint car flip at Devil’s Bowl, Lanny’s track in 
			Mesquite, in May of 2011. The poor kid has had successive operations 
			on his leg and is STILL healing. But 2014 will be another big one 
			for the Berryhills. My grandson Tanner, Adrian’s boy, will be at 
			Daytona in a Nationwide car. They are working real hard, but this 
			economy is near impossible for racing at that level.”
  The 
			plane’s door popped open. We were already in Dallas.
  I must 
			admit there were no visible Chili Bowl tee shirts on the flight up 
			to Boston. Folks were more bundled up, anticipating the next winter 
			storm. But a couple rows up sat Jim and Scott Martel, New England’s 
			popular father/son Supermodified racers.
  Bet Scott was the 
			only one on the flight who has won at Oswego. 
			
			
				
			
				
				
			
				
					
					
						
							
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							| Traffic pattern on the gumbo. 
							(John DaDalt Photo) | 
						 
			
						 
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					© 2014 Lew Boyd 
					- Coastal 181
  
					
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