Full circle
Stock car racing began on short dirt tracks in towns like Mars, Pa. - the town where Bill Bowser grew up and discovered his passion for auto racing more than 50 years ago. And just like a driver pushing through the final straightaway of a race, Bowser's career as a stock car racing announcer has come full circle.
After three decades at some of NASCAR's most storied tracks, including Daytona International Speedway, Bowser, 70, joined public address announcer Jon McCormick at Montana Raceway Park (MRP) last month, bringing a veteran voice to Flathead Valley racing fanatics.
Bowser discovered the Flathead Valley in 1985 when he drove to Whitefish, looking for a friend from the Air Force. His buddy had moved to Washington, but Bowser's trip wasn't a waste - he fell in love with Whitefish and moved there the next year.
"I never saw a more beautiful place, never found in my lifetime, to this day, any finer people," Bowser said. "I'm a hunter and a fisherman and I love the outdoors, and I decided this was the place."
In addition to Whitefish, Bowser has lived in Kalispell, Monarch and Somers. He moved to Bigfork in April with his partner, Maryann, to enjoy his retirement, but his retirement didn't last long.
"I sent an e-mail when I found out about Montana Raceway Park and they called me and were gracious enough to invite me to do some of their track announcing with (McCormick), and I gladly accepted because it all started on short tracks," Bowser said. "I started announcing on short tracks."
McCormick goes by "The Bandit" as an afternoon disc jockey at 106.3 FM "The Bear." He and Bowser interact with a chemistry that belies their short partnership. The two quip back and forth like old friends, calling the track's action while inducing audience laughter between races.
"It started off that way," McCormick said. "Our personalities mesh … there's a lot of fun that goes on behind the scenes and Bill just fit right in."
McCormick hadn't heard of Bowser before he found out they would be working together, but he knew their teamwork had great potential once he learned about Bowser's vast experience.
"I was pretty excited to have somebody with a lot of knowledge who could add some stuff to the show that we put on here - give some insight and some knowledge of racing and the big time and bring it down to a short track," McCormick said.
Bowser and McCormick have only called four races together, but McCormick has already picked Bowser's brain about the nuances of racing - he's also impressed Bowser.
"Of all the short tracks I've been to and raced, Jon is one of the best announcers I've seen," Bowser said. "He's got a great voice."
MRP doesn't have the premium public address system that Daytona has. Bowser and McCormick are drowned out by engine noise during races, but Bowser says they call the action anyway because their muffled voices add to the ambience of race track noise.
Bowser worked as a sports radio announcer in Ohio for about a dozen years before he moved to Florida in 1972 and called his first race at Daytona. He missed only a handful of races at the track until his last race there in 2003.
"When I started, there was myself and maybe a part-time announcer," Bowser said. "When I left, there were five announcers, three producers, two directors and a girl that brought me water."
Bowser lived a racing fan's dream in Daytona, interviewing legendary drivers like Richard Petty and Dale Earnhardt Sr. and calling races for Daytona's massive crowds. Bowser watched NASCAR grow from a Southern niche sport to a national spectacle, but he didn't like what he saw.
"The changes that I've seen is that it came from the good old boys, which were fellows that were real good race drivers and real good family people," Bowser said. "There wasn't a lot of money in it then. There wasn't a hundredth of the money that's in it now, and they raced for the fun of it then, and I think the fun of the drivers has gone out of it."
Bowser still watches NASCAR, but he says the essence of the sport has changed.
"I came from an era when there was Kale Yarborough, Richard Petty, Neil Bonnett, the Allison brothers, and it was more of a family-type affair then," Bowser said.
Bowser formed relationships with many drivers, but they were usually professional in nature.
"You don't gain a lifetime friendship, you gain a great acquaintanceship with most all the drivers," Bowser sad.
Bowser recalls several conversations with Earnhardt Sr. They often talked about their mutual off-track passion - hunting - and developed a non-verbal communication system regarding interviews.
"We had an eye-contact rapport," Bowser said. "If I wanted to interview him on the public address, he would let me know by eye contact whether he wanted to talk or not."
Bowser's relationship with auto racing didn't begin in a broadcast booth - he helped a friend build a race car when he was in high school.
Bowser raced the car after it was complete, but he got nauseous from engine fumes after his first race. He raced a few more times, but quickly realized he had no future as a professional driver.
"I wasn't going to be very good, so I changed vocations, and I figured I couldn't get too hurt talking about it," Bowser said.
Bowser is jovial whether he's working or not, but he transforms slightly when announcing races.
"It's a show, it's a presentation, it's a production," Bowser said. "You turn the microphone on and you're a different person, and hopefully when you turn the microphone off you go back to being the other person."
Bowser prefers short track racing because it reminds him why he became a stock car racing fan in the first place.
"I went to stock car races where you run what you brung," Bowser said. "They drove the race cars to the track and took the headlights out and put them back in to drive home when the race was over."
Bowser appreciates MRP's loyal team owners and fans.
"The owners are really true racing people and the fans are tremendous - they cheer the losers, they cheer the winners and you cannot ask for a more stalwart sports fan than those that attend races," Bowser said.
Still, Bowser disowns the notion that local racing means small-time racing.
"I don't want people to think that this is not professional racing," Bowser said. "This is far from amateur automobile racing. When you're an automobile racer, you're not an amateur ever.
"The day you step in a car you turn professional. Yes, you have different divisions, but that's just working your way up."
Bowser has watched thousands of drivers in his life and he has trouble criticizing any of them.
"I have never seen a bad racer," Bowser said. "I have seen some that aren't as good as others. I've seen some that try really hard and never make it, but they always continue to try."
Most of MRP's drivers aren't paid like professional athletes. The winner of the Montana 200 takes home $10,000 - the track's biggest payout - but Bowser says NASCAR Nextel Cup drivers are usually guaranteed $50,000-70,000, even if they come in last.
"I don't think anybody (at MRP) races full time," Bowser said. "They usually have jobs, they have to go get sponsors so that they can afford to race. Racing is not a cheap sport - I mean it's not like buying a volleyball and going out and whacking it over a net."
Bowser maintains that auto racing is a team sport and drivers are highly skilled athletes. He says that winning requires cooperation from drivers, owners, sponsors, pit crews and cars, but success ultimately hinges on the car and the driver at the wheel.
"You can put a great driver in a bad car and he's not gonna win with it," Bowser said. "You can put a poor driver in a good car and he's never gonna win with it. But you can put a mediocre driver in a great car and there's a great possibility he could win with it."
Bowser remains connected to Daytona, but only because his 34-year-old son, Timothy, and 36-year-old daughter, Lynn, live in Daytona Beach, Fla.
For the last two decades Bowser traveled extensively to call races, but he always maintained residence in Montana. He earned up to $5,000 each weekend announcing NASCAR races, but he was happy to give up the money so he could settle in the Flathead Valley.
"The one thing that made me move here was not just the mountains, not just the lakes and what I could do in my spare time, it was the people that made me move here," Bowser said. "They can take me out kicking and screaming."