The Tale of 'Texas Terry' Labonte: the 'Ice Man' cooly reflects on his Hall of Fame career

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Terry Labonte shares some memorable moments about his sensational NASCAR Cup Series career. (Photo: © 1999, Nigel Kinrade NKP)

In the words of the late Ken Squier, Terry Labonte was often “waiting, waiting as ‘The Iceman’ always does” when it came to contending for race wins.

When it seemed like Labonte could be counted out from victory, the cool and calm driver rose to the occasion when it truly mattered. Throughout Labonte’s 37-year NASCAR Cup Series career, he maximized his 890 starts with remarkable consistency and his trademark focused demeanor.

Before Labonte made his mark as a venerable winner and championship contender, he was like most young racers who dreamt about making it to the top of his craft.

“We actually got started in Corpus Christi down there racing,” Labonte said. “And then when I was younger, I raced quarter midgets for several years until I was like 15. And then my dad built me a stock car.

“We raced in Corpus. Then we started racing in San Antonio and Houston and typically, we’d race on Saturdays, Saturday nights or something. And then Sundays, we would, of course… in Texas, they would always cover AJ Foyt and Johnny Rutherford and guys like that. And so, I was interested. The local news always covered what they had accomplished that weekend, usually on Sunday nights. And so, I started following it that way. ”

In 1972, Labonte, who idolized Foyt and Rutherford, two Texas motorsports icons who blazed their trails in open wheel racing, soon discovered the world of stock car racing. From that moment, he had to get his fix with these closed wheel wonders that were popular in the Southeast region of the U.S.

“I became interested in NASCAR when AJ was driving for the Wood Brothers. And then after he quit driving for the Wood Brothers, David Pearson started driving for him. And I just continued to follow NASCAR and the Wood Brothers.

“Back then we could only listen to the races on the radio. It was a channel out of Galveston, an AM channel out of Galveston that carried the races. And so, the only way you could pick it up most of the time was if you went to (South) Padre Island and you could listen to the race. So a lot of times on Sundays, we’d go to the beach and listen to the NASCAR race. And that’s when I guess I got interested in it.”

Like most aspiring drivers smitten by the wonderment of stock car competition, the adolescent Labonte attended his first races with his father, Bob, attending one of the earliest runnings off “The Great American Race.”

“My dad took me back before the races were televised. I think… I don’t remember, I think it was 1967 and I went when the races used to be televised, they were on a closed circuit TV, and so you had to go to a movie theater and watch it,” he said. “And so we went and watched the Daytona 500 and I just, I don’t know, I just thought it was the coolest thing.

“You know, growing up in Texas, I never dreamed that I’d have the opportunity to one day move to North Carolina and actually race in the NASCAR series. But I guess I was very fortunate and just kind of the right place at the right time.”

So the Story Begins

At the age of 21, Labonte relocated to North Carolina to earnestly pursue his dreams to compete in NASCAR. Hailing from Corpus Christi, Texas, the mild mannered racer learned how to handle the pressure and heat during his home state’s brutal summers.

Perhaps that may explain how Labonte acclimated to the steel chariots that were commonplace in the 1979 NASCAR Cup Series scene.

t the young age of 22, Terry Labonte made his Daytona 500 debut as the driver of Billy Hagan’s No. 44 Stratagraph Buick. (Photo: ISC Archives via Getty Images)

“The cars were a lot different than what we raced later,” Labonte said. “They had no power steering back then. And of course, I think one advantage I had was growing up in South Texas. It was always hot down there, so the heat didn’t really bother me that much.

“I was pretty much used to it, but it was different. The cars didn’t drive good compared to later on when we finally had cars that actually drove a little bit better.”

When the then clean shaven Lone Star native made his first Daytona 500 start, it was memorable in more ways that one.

“I never will forget that ’79 Daytona 500. We were running there late in the race and our clutch went out and I left pit road, and we had transmission problems,” Labonte said. “The clutch came out and I coasted to the back straightaway and pulled off the track and stopped there. It was like just 10 laps ago, and I stopped there, and I got out of the car, and I was standing there, and here they came for the last lap.

“And it was Donnie Allison and Cale Yarborough, and they’re beating on each other going down the back straightaway. And then they went off in a corner and you heard the crowd cheer or yell and everything. And I was standing in the back of a NASCAR safety truck with a guy, and I said, ‘Well, what happened?’ And he had his radio on. And he said, ‘Well, they’re fighting down there.’ And he said, ‘It’s Bobby Allison and Cale Yarborough.’ I said, ‘No, no, that was Donnie Allison.’ He said, ‘No, they said it was Bobby Allison.’ And sure enough, it was Bobby Allison. He stopped to help Donnie in the fight down there. So that was my first Daytona 500, and it was quite one to remember.

For most Americans, especially those stranded in their homes in the Northeast due to a blizzard, the 1979 Daytona 500, the first, live, flag-to-flag 500-mile race telecasted on national television, was a seminal moment and introduction to NASCAR. Suddenly, those unfamiliar with stock car racing were introduced to a type of auto racing that epitomized “common folks doing uncommon deeds,” as Squier would often say.

In Labonte’s case, it was a prelude to his remarkable Cup career and his initial encounters with the likes of Joe Millikan, “Handsome” Harry Gant and Dale Earnhardt.

“I think it was kind of an unusual year that year because there was three of us, and I think three of the four of us finished in the top 10 in the point standings,” Labonte said. “And so that was kind of unheard of to have that three rookies finish in the top 10 in points. So, we kind of all started our career at the same time. And yeah, it was just I ran five races in 1978 and did that and then we ran for the Rookie of the Year deal the next year.”

Despite Labonte’s prowess in a stock car, particularly in his sample foray into Cup in 1978 at the age of 21, tallying a fourth in his maiden Cup start at Darlington, a seventh at Richmond and ninth at Martinsville, nothing was promised to the Texan.

“Sometimes, when you race in the racing business, you kind of just go from week to week,” he said. “You don’t know if you going to have a job the next week. Depends how you did last week.

“I guess when you don’t own your own car, you’re driving for somebody else. And I was just fortunate that I was able to drive for Billy Hagan for a long time. And he actually sponsored my late model cars when I raced in Texas. So, it was just a chance of a lifetime to be able to move to North Carolina and race with his NASCAR team.”

There’s No Other Way

During the 1980s, NASCAR experienced a popularity growth with on-track attendance and interest with races telecasted on TV. One of the most ardent supporters of NASCAR’s telecasts was CBS, the network that aired and produced the telecast of the wild and memorable 1979 Daytona 500.

In CBS’ initial years to deliver innovative production quality to viewers at home, the first in-car cameras were mounted inside select cars, including Labonte’s No. 44 ride during the 1981 Daytona 500.

Although Labonte was understanding about the need for these unique angles for the TV audiences, he could not help but feel a bit superstitious about some of the misfortunes that besieged his efforts on the track.

“I think that first time we had a camera in our car was 1981. And I never finished a race with a camera in my car,” Labonte said. “So, I was not a big fan of having a camera in my car because something always happened. So, I was like, I really don’t want those in my car.

“But every now and then you had to tolerate it for the sponsor. So anyway, they were cool. They were cool. I just liked them better than somebody else’s car.”

Years later, after a few laughs, Labonte expressed some appreciation for the effort put into mounting these inside his car to provide an on-track experience for the TV audiences especially when considering the technological advancements over 40 years later.

In the early to mid 1980s, Terry Labonte and Billy Hagan were an unassuming, competitive combination. (Photo: Ted Van Pelt)

In the early to mid 1980s, Terry Labonte and Billy Hagan were an unassuming, competitive combination. (Photo: Ted Van Pelt)

“You wouldn’t believe how big those cameras were back then,” he said. “I mean, they were just massive compared to the cameras they have today. So, it was quite a job actually just putting (and) installing the camera because they were big old cameras back then.”

Cameras or not, Labonte knew, like the rest of cohorts in the NASCAR Cup Series, that the sport was gaining more exposure with other networks like ESPN, ABC, USA and TBS, among others, telecasting races at various points of the season. Along the way, those cameras captured the steady rise of Labonte and Hagan’s No. 44 team.

Mainly, Hagan was convinced that he and Labonte would strike gold if the combination stuck together and built upon their successes. After all, the duo won their first ever Cup race in one of the crown jewel events during the 1980 season.

“Billy had a kind of a vision to build the team into something that could compete for the championship,” Labonte said. “And I can remember, (when) we won our first race in 1980 at Darlington, and I can remember being in the press box and after the race, somebody had asked Billy a question or something, and he said that he had planned on winning the championship within five years.

“And this was 1980. And I thought to myself, I looked at him, I thought, and we just won our first race, we got a long way to go to win a championship. But, you know, he was right. He was able to put together a team. And we had a lot of great people that worked for us. And Dale Inman was just a fantastic crew chief that surrounded himself with excellent people. We won the championship in ’84 and really felt like we had a great shot at it in ’85 and ’86 and just came up short. But that’s the way it goes.”

Tallying six wins in nine seasons with Hagan, Labonte moved to the legendary Junior Johnson and Associates’ No. 11 Budweiser team in 1987. With Darrell Waltrip moving to Rick Hendrick’s newly minted No. 17 Tide Chevrolet Monte Carlo, the Texan had the chance to showcase his talents in Johnson’s unmistakable red and white No. 11 Chevrolet Monte Carlo.

Once again, Labonte showcased his incredible consistency in 1987 when he tallied a win at North Wilkesboro, 13 top fives and 22 top 10 results. He repeated that patented performance in 1988 with another win at North Wilkesboro, 11 top fives and 18 top 10s.

By this point, Labonte, who was in his late 20s and early 30s, thought he found himself a pot of gold with Johnson’s organization. However, the No. 11 team encountered a hurdle in 1989 when a manufacturer change was made.

“Yeah, that was really a great opportunity,” he said. “And we finished third in the points one year and fourth one year. And then I think the next year we switched to Fords and we struggled just a little bit (with) finishing races. And you know, we had a lot of engine failures and stuff. And it just kind of a learning curve, I guess, with the Ford stuff. But we were third and fourth in the points with the Chevy.

“We really fully expected to have a chance at a championship. And championships are hard to win. You know I won the one in 1984 and so we had a shot to win at ’85 and ’86, and I thought I had a chance in ’87 and ’88. You kept thinking that next year, it’s going to happen. And then finally in 1996, I won the championship again. So it took forever for the next year to get there. But, you know, championships are tough to win.”

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