On the walk up to the gate, children ride on their fathers’ shoulders, looking to get a better glimpse inside the track. Other children race up to the fence of the pit, watching as drivers and crew members work on their cars in preparation for another Friday night of racing at the Route 9 track.
It’s a family-oriented tradition that’s been going on for 50-plus years – but it’s also an endangered tradition in light of new housing-development pressures that surfaced earlier this year.
With the track’s future in question, I ventured to the track this weekend to soak in the sounds, sights and snacks while they’re still there.
Beforehand, I studied up on the storied history of the venue, as well as the potential sale that could turn the 50-acre racing facility into 700 housing units as well as retail shops and other public amenities.
Newly acquainted with the story of the Malta speedway, I headed out to take in the action under the Friday night lights for what could have been one of the final nights of racing ever.
Earlier last week, when receiving this assignment from an editor, I had to do a double take. To be brutally honest, I did not know that there was a speedway in Malta.
That’s a little embarrassing to admit, having covered sports in Saratoga Springs for nearly five years.
As I looked further into what my assignment actually was, I was fascinated by the track’s history and traditions. I also began to ponder my own childhood experience as a casual race fan.
For some background, I grew up downstate and typically attended auto races every summer at the Orange County Fair Speedway in Middletown. The biggest race I can recall from my childhood was on a family vacation to Pennsylvania, when we went to a NASCAR event at Pocono Raceway.
Prior to Friday, it had probably been over 12 years since my last auto race.
Upon pulling into the sprawling speedway parking area, I heard and felt the action unfolding inside. As I got closer, the rumble of the cars practicing grew stronger and the noise grew louder, as did the growing smell of exhaust.
Once inside, children raced up to the grandstands to get their first view of the track, while others pointed out which concession items they wanted.
Corn dogs and french fries were certainly among the most popular choices.
Despite the fact that races were not scheduled to start for over an hour, the voices over the public address system were constant, speaking of the current driver standings and the night’s racing card.
One announcer mentioned that it was nearing the end of the racing season, and there wouldn’t be many more opportunities to pick up an order of the track’s french fries, or to shop for holiday gifts for your family’s racing fans. Despite the track’s potential closure this offseason, no mention was made of this on Friday. By all appearances, it was just another great night at the races.
As the clock ticked closer to 7 p.m., families and friends found their spots in the grandstands, which ended up being filled. Once it was time for the first race, the concourse behind the grandstands was nearly deserted – everyone was ready for the races.
It was during the first race that I realized I’d committed a glaring gaff with my choice of clothing for a night of racing. I learned the hard way not to wear anything white to a dirt track, as by the end it will be covered in dust. As the night went on, and more cars and laps were added to each event, more and more dirt went flying around.
While many in attendance brought earplugs or noise-canceling headphones, I found myself more concerned about the dirt flying into my eyes than I was with the noise.
However, it seemed others were unfazed by this, as the stands remained full for the duration of the races, until around 10 p.m.
Fans cheered on drivers by name, and it remained a family-friendly environment. Even when one fan in my section grew upset over a caution flag, others were quick to remind him that there were children around.
After about an hour of racing, when I went to grab a snack, the concourse remained nearly deserted. The only exception was a few children playing tag beneath the stands, and some adults having a smoke.
I took the announcer’s advice and ordered the highly-touted french fries.
While it was a much-needed break from all the dirt flying around, I did enjoy the competitiveness of the races. I watched as drivers built a lead, only for it to be wiped away by a caution, and they had to do it all over again.
The race that I found most entertaining was in the limited sportsman division, as Colton Emigh earned his first career win. In the back-and-forth 20-lap race, Emigh lost the lead early on to Jordan Hill, but eventually regained it. In the end, Emigh staved off Lucas Duncan, earning a trip to victory lane.
Something that became apparent over the course of the night is how many young drivers there are who compete at Albany-Saratoga Speedway. Perhaps 10-15 years ago, they were munching on corn dogs in the grandstands, and now they’re out on the track racing themselves.
The speedway has allowed young drivers to pursue their auto-racing dreams and more seasoned drivers to remain in form. It has served as a constant in the Capital Region for families and friends to gather over the summer on Friday nights, and offers work for those seeking some extra income.
Needless to say, without the Albany-Saratoga Speedway, it would certainly be missed.
