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| Big D - The Man Behind The Wire
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Take a look upwards when you get to the Skerries
circuit this year. You will see a wire draped from
pole to pole and encompassing the entire
circuit. This the media of Radio Big D, and you are
about to enter the Big D zone.
The first time I had the pleasure of making the
acquaintance of Derek Mason, or "Big D" as he is
affectionately known in racing circles, was on my
first visit to the Skerries 100 road races in 1987.
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That was the year of the Steve Cull, Eddie Laycock
dash for cash, and a massive crowd had turned up on a
magnificent day for a truly great days racing. The one
problem you have when the crowd is so huge and you are
relatively inexperienced in the art of manoeuvring
from one spot to another on race day, is that there
are certain areas that are prohibited to the general
public and which may not be patently obvious at the
time.
The landowners in the area are generous to a fault in
the amount of leeway they give to spectators on race
day, such as allowing their walls,
fences, grassy banks and gardens to be used as
grandstands. If people abuse these privileges, it is
usually not until after the racing has finished and we
have all gone home, that the complaint is aired to the
race organisers, who must then go about ensuring that
the problem does not arise again. It is therefore
incumbent on the marshals and race officials to keep
order on the day, something that is more easily said
than done in the hectic cauldron of race day.
This is where Big D comes in. On the day in question,
I was ambling
Slowly along the edge of the barley field approaching
the timing box, minding my own business and making
good progress around the course, when an unmerciful
tirade blasted forth from the nearby speaker. "You in
the barley field, get your arse out of there before we
let the dogs lose", or words to that effect were
hurtled in my direction. Of course not being of the
farming inclination, I was not aware at first that I
was even in a barley
field, so I stupidly looked around for the eejit who
was being shouted at. It was only when the second
tirade was loosed on my head that I realised that the
fool was me. I looked up in total embarrassment at the
laughing faces of the crowd on the bank, and quickly
made my way back along the edge to where I had started
out. I could have argued that I was only skirting the
edge of the field, but what chance had I got against
the might of the Big D.
I have been back to Skerries every year since then, so
the experience
Must not have been too traumatic, and I have witnessed
the similar
humiliation of many other poor unfortunate souls, who
have dared to tread the barley or potato fields of
Skerries, within view of the all-seeing Big D. Similar
treatment is meted out to those inconsiderate drivers
who leave their cars or bikes parked on the circuit or
on ambulance routes or slip-roads. It is always worth
a belly laugh of Mexican wave proportions as the crowd
have probably all received the Big D tongue lashing at
some stage or another.
The other great attribute of Big D is his intimate
knowledge of the
sport he so obviously loves. I'm not just talking
about times and dates, I mean the personal details of
riders and their families, like what a rider drinks or
does after he drinks. Or whether he is too mean too
buy a drink. You get my drift. He brings a dimension
of familiarity and friendliness to an often
unforgiving sport, and in doing so allows the first
time spectator to feel instantly at home. He is also a
man who loves to party, and his
exploits in the Yacht after he pulls down the cables
and speakers, are well
documented.
When you come to Skerries you will be consumed by the
aura about the
place. You will smell the freshly cut grass, feel the
buzz of activity in the
paddock, taste the apprehension before the start of
the first race, and
most of all be deafened by the enthusiasm of Big D, as
he leads you on a
wondrous journey through Skerries 2001, in search of
the perfect race in the greatest sport.
So when you see the big speaker and the wire up high,
remember the
voice at the other end of it. Have a drink to Big D
when the racing is done, for we will not see his like
again.
Here's to Big D, where WOULD we be without him.
Eddie Byrne
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