Cycle News - Archive Issues - 1990's

TIME REMEMBERED Tony ~iStefano. bought CZ 400 from winning the 1974 500cc National Championship; that "break" was his thumb, which he injured in a crash in a local race at Southern California's famous Indian Dunes MX track. But his impressive season was enough to snare the attention of the top teams and, in 1975, Tony and Billy Grossi, another almost-champ cut down by injury, joined a fledgling Team Suzuki. While Roger DeCoster and Joel Robert had been piling up World Championships on the yellow bikes overseas, the U.S. effort had struggled to win any races. "They had a couple of older guys that they let go/' DiStefano recaJls, salary," DiStefano said. "We made something like $300 for every race we started, and we made bonuses if we won a series championship." Tony D. surprised both his competition and Team Suzuki with his immediate success. He became the first American to win the now-defunct Inter-Am Series, which attracted the best Ameri- "He Uimmy Weinert) would 'jam' you in a comer as quickly as anybody." cans and several top Grand Prix competitors from Europe. So unexpected was that victory that he received no bonus: An American rider beating world-class competition wasn't even considered a possibility, so Team Suzuki hadn't even bothered to insert an InterAm clause in DiStefano's contract. By Kent Taylor ust who is a privateer racer, anyway? In 1997, it's becoming pretty difficult to distinguish them from the factory guys, because these days even the have-nots have lots. Many prifano's racing and riding vateers have mechanics doing the dirty work, which includes picking them up days to a premature end. It sounds like a tragedy, and from the airport and driving them to the when you see Tony today, hotel where they will be staying before you may want to feel sorry the race, which is taking place in a temfor him, because once he perature-controlled, dust-free dome. was the greatest and now Outwardly, there are few differences he's a paraplegic, just 40 between the privateer's plastic-and-aluyears old and confined to minum power-jet racer and the official living life in a wheelchair. team bikes. And, just like the factory Before you get out the cryrider, the privateer gets garish new gear ing towel, however, you wheneve.r the gaudy old stuff needs a need to get to know him ride in the Maytag (or becomes unfashbetter, beca use you'll see ionable - whichever happens first). that the same qualities that Who was the privateer? That's an make a fast racer a champieasy one. In 1974, he drove to the races on can also be applied to by himself, put his .own bike together help make a disadvantaged out of the crate, taped hockey pads to life a very full one indeed. his knees and wrestled a 250-pound CZ for two 40-minute motos on outdoor Motocross was a young sport in the early 70s, but tracks that were prepped by Mother both the AMA and the Nature alone. When the race day major motorcycle manufacwrapped up, this guy slept in a very turers were eager to help it mobile home. (and themselves) grow big "Where are you staying tonight?" his and strong. Times were fat friends would ask (even though they for the industry, with more already knew the answer). "Hotel than a quarter million new Dodge!" replied Tony D. He didn't have to sleep in a van for motorcycles being sQld annually in the United long, however, because there was one States. Motocross racing way in which Tony DiStefano was very much like a factory rider: He won races budgets expanded and a lot of them. In fact, throughout the before long the Big Japanmid-70s, nobody had more success winese Four had joined the classic Euro Four (Maico, Husqvarna, ning races and championships than Tony D., whose string of three consecuCZ and Bultaco) in fielding fully spontive 250cc National titles is a feat that sored teen-age go-fasters to do their bidhasn't been duplicatding on racetracks ed since. DiStefano " th h d was throughout America. handily whipped the ••• e ome crow The factory rider had a one-of-a-kind works best Europeans back . really going crtI-'Y, they bike, which was handwhen that was as unusual as the Eurobuil t from exotic metwere just nuts!" als; wanna-be factory peans smoking Jeremy McGrath today. riders rode modified But the candle that burns twice as production models which often closely brightly also bums half as long. Fortune resembled dated street I trail bikes. Guess who won the most races? in sport often goes away as quickly as it came, and too many factors that were Wrong! Only an unlucky break kept Tony DiStefano and his own storeout of his control brought Tony DiSte- "The next year" Tony recalls, "I lobbied for a better deal." DiStefano repeated his 250cc title win in 76, topping his buddy and fellow East Coast native Jim Weinert on his Kawasaki. He remembers Jimmy "The Jammer" as "a fun guy to be around. I, on the other hand, was kind of shy and pretty quiet, so it was sort of like an AliFrazier re.lationship. Weinert was smart and he knew exactly how to get what he wanted, and that mentality carried over to the race track, too. He would 'jam' you in a comer as quickly as anybody:' Consistency was the key to success back in the 70s, when about one-fourth of the bikes that started the race would break long before the checkered flag flew. Unlike today's moto system, points were awarded for overall wins, so whether he was chasing Weinert, "Hannah was incredible. He had fire in his eyes and the heart of a tiger." "and they brought in a new team and all new bikes for '75. We were pretty young; I was 18, Billy was 19, and they just wanted us to take it easy the first year." Grossi was slated to ride the 250 and Tony, who was physically much larger (6-foot-1, 200 pounds), was told to focus on the 500cc class. Ironically, it would be Grossi who would nearly win the bigbike title, crashing out of contention in the final mota of the series. Tony D., meanwhile, clinched the 250cc crown, the beginning of a stranglehold which would last three years. Not exactly the "easy" start Suzuki bosses had called for. "At that time, we didn't even have a Grossi, Jimmy Ellis or Kent Howerton, DiStefano knew when to wick it up and when to back it off, never taking a risk when it wasn't going to mean anything anyway. Except for one time... "It was in 1977, when I was winning my third 250cc championship. The final round was at Mount Morris, Pennsylvania, and the home crowd was really going crazy, they were just nuts! I only needed a third-place finish to wrap up the title, but the fans were leaning on the fence and then they knocked it over. That gave me some kind of adrenaline boost, so I gassed it, caught Marty Smith, passed him, and won. It was a great feeling." During his three-year reign, DiStefano had staved off challenges from Howerton, Weinert and Smith, three of the greatest of all time, but relegated to

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