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Tales from a long career: Tom Cruise, cracker fights


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“Forrest Gump” was a book by Winston Groom that tells the improbable, often seemingly-unbelievable, story of a slow, but kind-hearted, man who becomes immersed in some of the country’s most-notable snapshots in history.

I know exactly how he felt.

While I’ve never possessed any special privilege, my 47-year career as a journalist has allowed me to create some improbable, often seemingly-unbelievable, tales. And like Forrest Gump, it had nothing more than stupid luck and being at the right place at the right time.

I’ve already written about my son and I hanging out with Shaquille O’Neal and Dennis Scott in 1993. Now for the story of spending the afternoon at the race track with Paul Newman and Tom Cruise, and Cruise’s cracker fight with my son.

In 1988 teams were allowed to rent the Daytona International Speedway to prepare for upcoming races. On one Sunday in January, Hendrick Motorsports had the track. Darrell Waltrip and Geoff Bodine were the drivers assigned to shake down the cars.

Hendrick also made arrangements for Newman and Cruise to be at the private test. Somehow, I got invited, too.

Newman was a consummate racer. At 70, he won his class in the 24 Hours of Daytona in 2008. Cruise was just coming off the successful release of “Top Gun” less than two years earlier.

Hendrick offered Bodine’s Xfinity Series car for Newman and Cruise to drive on the 2.5-mile tri-oval.

Race cars were new to Cruise. He wore on old Newman racing suit, although it hung on him like an empty sack of flour. Both eventually took turns driving a Chevrolet on the high-banks, reaching speeds of nearly 170 mph.

It was so exhilarating, Cruise suddenly got an idea for a new movie. “Days of Thunder” was born.

During a break, Cruise and my 7-year-old son sat in a minivan to escape a brief rain delay. One of them found a small bag of oyster crackers in the van and the food fight was on. Nobody claimed a playful victory, but the minivan was a wreck with crumbs.

My son and I talked about that day during Thanksgiving and the afternoon shooting pool with Shaq. We remembered Dale Earnhardt playing a prank on him by stealing his food in a buffet line, and the night we spent shooting craps with Benny Parsons, Todd Bodine, Greg Biffle and Tony Stewart in Kansas City.

“Dad, I can see how some people would think this is all made up,” Donald said. “It is hard to believe, but to me, it was nothing special. I grew up with it. It all seemed normal.”

Looking back, it simply was part of a routine. You can’t cover the NBA, college football and basketball, NASCAR and the NFL for decades and not come away with some special stories. Back then, celebrities didn’t worry about picking their nose and having it posted on social media within seconds. Since we spent so much time together, athletes, drivers and media often spent time together away from the main event. It was a simple time; it was the best of time. I miss that now.

I also have fond memories of my then-2-year-old daughter, Tammy, sitting on Waltrip’s lap in the Daytona infield. He was driving a Datsun sports car and she pretended to drive it. Datsun changed its name to Nissan in 1984. By then, Tammy was just 5. Now she’s 40.

I recall the time Tammy rode the team bus to the game when the Orlando Magic played in Houston, and when she joined soccer star Pele for lunch. Her favorite time, however, was walking the sidelines of a Friday night high school football game.

All that’s left now are old black-and-white photos and hearing their joyful recounts of growing up in the fast lane. And like a bowl full of peas and carrots, that’s more than enough.