Sunday, March 19, 2017

Racing is not my thing. . .

It's Sunday morning and I was watching TV when CBS came on with Mo Roca interviewing  Mario Andretti, considered the greatest race car driver of all time with shelves full of trophies and awards.  He's 77 now, has a head of white hair, and still looks great. As they talked about the fact that he is still involved in the racing world, with two sons who are successful drivers, it took me back about 40 years to the time when my PR firm represented the  Miami International Auto Show.

The show arrived annually to the Miami Beach Convention Center and it was part of my job to get as much publicity in the Miami Herald and other local publications as possible.  The star attraction at this particular year's show was the appearance of Mario Andretti who was at the height of his career at the time.  I had arranged for an interview at the Herald with Ed Pope, one of the best known sports reporters in the nation, and a great coup for me to have pulled off.  Andretti was staying at the Coconut Grove Hotel (I still lived up in North Miami at the time), and to my horror, I was informed that I needed to drive there and pick him up to take him to the interview.

I was driving a four door Mercedes sedan in those days, and was definitely not a nominee for "driver of the year".  I told myself I could do this.  All I had to do was get him to the Herald safely. . big deal. . .so what if he is the king of the racing world.  I've been driving since I was 16.  (My stomach is now feeling very queasy.)

I arrive at the Coconut Grove Hotel, ease up the steep circular drive, and find Mario waiting for my arrival.  He hops in the visitor's side, I introduce myself, and we start down the other side of the drive.  Did I mention that the hotel was located on what passes for a hill in Miami and the driveway was very steep?  And I was more than slightly nervous? Bottom line, I started out too fast and when we hit the bottom of the driveway we literally bounced into the air before settling onto the street.  Mario looked horrified, actually he looked scared, and I wanted to die, but I got us to the Herald without any further incident. 

The interview went great.  He drove my car back to the hotel.
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