It’s unlikely that many longtime motorsports fans recognize the name Bill Brodrick. It’s just as unlikely that anyone who’s ever watched NASCAR, IndyCar or Formula One doesn’t recognize “The Hat Man.”

No surprise there, since Brodrick was the flamboyant victory-lane ringmaster for 29 years, directing traffic and orchestrating the familiar “hat dance” that made him famous.

A burly 6 feet 3 with swept-back hair, a flowing orange beard, designer shades and rings aplenty, he turned post-race celebrations into performance art.

He told cameramen where to stand and when to shoot. He decided who greeted the winner and in what order. He tossed around sponsors’ hats and told crewmen which ones to wear and which cameras were hot. As live television became a force, he ensured that directors got what they needed when they needed it. He became a rock star who signed autographs, had his own trading card and registered “The Hat Man” trademark. He was hailed at speedways around the world and helped the Associated Press at 20 consecutive Super Bowls and during the 1989 inauguration of President George H.W. Bush.

The Cincinnati native worked for Union Oil Co. from 1969 until Tosco bought the company in 1997. When the new regime dismissed Brodrick after NASCAR’s 1997 season finale, he retreated to Algonquin, Illinois, to run a tavern near the Fox River.

Brodrick, 77, recently spoke with Autoweek about his years in racing and his fond-ness for the spotlight that made him famous.

Autoweek: How did The Hat Man gig in victory lanes develop?

Bill Brodrick: It started during the first part of the ’69 racing season. I was in victory lane with the (Union 76) Race Stoppers, getting publicity shots for the company with the girls and the race winners. I don’t remember the specific race where I began guiding and taking care of things. I was working with photographers and TV people, and I knew a lot of them from my time in radio and as a racing writer. It developed as we went along, as I began directing how things should be done so everybody got what they needed from the drivers and the sponsors and the teams. All of a sudden it was like, ‘Hey, this is working pretty well,’ and everybody liked it. By then, it was maybe midway through that season.

Brodrick and Dale Earnhardt shared many good times in victory lane.

AW: Certainly you didn’t know that running victory lane would make you an international personality.

BB: Heavens, no. God, no. I never imagined that. I was just a struggling 30-year-old PR guy getting paid to do my hobby. I was treading lightly, working 24/7 to get the company’s name out there in front of the public. The power of television made me who I became. The nature of what I did—getting drivers out of their cars and getting them and the owners and sponsors in front of the right cameras—got me known. And the fans … they’re the best in the world. They never forgot me and were always happy to see me. They couldn’t always get next to drivers and crew chiefs, but they could always get next to me, and I loved it; they made it all happen for me. I was the luckiest guy in the world because I looked forward to it every day for 29 years.

AW: Did Tosco ever explain why they let you go?

BB: No. I had worked for (Union 76) for 29 years and had no idea anything was going to be different in 1998. When I went in two days after the ’97 Atlanta race to renew my one-year contract, I was told I was no longer needed. I really wanted to do another year, sort of a 30th anniversary “victory-lane tour” to say goodbye and thank everybody. I never got that opportunity.

AW: What is your impression of today’s NASCAR product?

BB: Frankly, I don’t watch it much, but what I’ve seen is boring. A lot of races are at night, and there are so many options, other things I’d rather watch. I don’t know most of the participants so I don’t have the personal interest I used to. There seems to be too much corporate control, but the corporate representatives don’t seem to be working as hard as we did. I like drag racing because their shows are time-edited and their guys do a fantastic job; they know what they’re talking about. And I like Formula One. It can be boring, too, but I love the technical aspects. I don’t watch much sports-car stuff unless Corvettes are running.

AW: What victory-lane moment stands out the most?

BB: Probably Richard Petty’s 200th (win) at Daytona in July of ’84 with President Reagan there. Richard was the best because he knew exactly what to do. I’d give him some milk and a Goody’s in the car, then he’d say, ‘OK, Bill, let’s get them cats squared away.’ The year (1996) Ernie Irvan came back (from serious injuries) to win at Loudon. Anything with Davey Allison and Jeff Gordon because they were always so happy; they enjoyed victory lane. Darrell Waltrip won at Daytona (in 1989) and did that funky little dance, and Alan Kulwicki’s first win at Phoenix (1988). Man, we had fun. There are so many good memories.

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