REVVED up for a RACE against TIME
Glasgow Tigers co-owner Facenna is determined to use speedway as a power for social change but faces a battle to save a sporting institution
HE knows the cost. But he also appreciates the value. Gerry Facenna sits at the heart of what seems a small village but is his sprawling business complex and quietly details what he has paid out to keep speedway in Glasgow.
‘We spent over £3million on developing the stadium and, over the past three years, have lost a six-figure sum every year,’ he says. Just 300 people were turning up at Ashfield to watch the Glasgow Tigers when Gerry and Michael Facenna stepped in. Now 800 are regular spectators, with 2,500 present for the big events. It needs an average crowd of 1,250 to make the venture viable.
The Facenna message is simple. ‘Come and support something before it dies,’ he says in his office at Allied Vehicles. The 40-acre site, teeming with 700 workers, lies just along the road from Ashfield stadium and a spot that holds special affection for the brothers.
‘My father’s garage was a stone’s throw from the track,’ he says. ‘We lived for a while in rooms above it.’ The brothers moved from the city to Arrochar as youngsters but part of them has remained in Possilpark, most notably their physical presence at a thriving business.
The refurbished track sees a collision of Facenna traits: passion, sentiment, business and a defined purpose. The love for motorsport came from his father. Scotty Facenna was prone to wandering along to Kelvin Hall where he would spin around the wall of death on a motorbike of an evening. He also raced midget cars.
‘He could handle both cars and a bike brilliantly,’ says his son. He could also repair them. His garage tended to the needs of speedway riders in an era in the 1950s when 21,000 fans would go to watch the cinders fly as bikes hurled around a track.
This love of the sport remains, though it affects fewer people. ‘The fans are wonderful, determined and committed,’ he says. ‘The day after we bought the stadium we turned up at Ashfield and there were 50 people there all ready to help.’
Riders, too, look on the sport as more than a way to earn money. ‘One boy came over from Argentina with his bike and his savings,’ says Facenna. ‘He had to push his bike 30 miles to get to a racetrack to get a job. That’s the passion in this sport. Riders make thousands, not millions.’
Scotty Facenna died when his son was 12. He lives on his sons’ unstinting dedication to work. He also survives in the Facenna determination to make a difference in an area where they were born and formed.
Asked about his motivation for ploughing the best part of £4m into a patch of land in north Glasgow, Gerry Facenna points to a print on his wall. It declares: ‘They can because they think they can.’
He adds: ‘I have had that belief all my life. I think success is all about attitude. I think we can do something important with speedway in Glasgow and that we can offer something off the track.’
The Ashfield stadium, the Glasgow Tigers and the Facennas are not just about sporting success but of revitalising an area and its people. There is something about sporting results or personal certificates.
‘When we interview people in here it is not about your qualifications. If I see in someone’s eyes their attitude is right, then that is the most important factor. We can train them in the rest of what they need,’ he explains.
He visits schools to talk about the various initiatives the company sponsors in engineering and employment. ‘Sometimes you can look at the kids and there is no ambition,’ adds Facenna. ‘That is not their fault. There is an expectation that there are only two roads.
‘On one side there is the white BMW and drug-dealing and on the other there is the culture of living off social security. It doesn’t have to be this way.’
He promotes another road. ‘We have pupils visiting this site,’ he says. ‘A wee girl of nine once asked me who one woman was and I told her that was my production manager who had 200 men working for her. You could see her eyes light up. It was as if she had realised that she could be doing that.’
He adds: ‘This is not mission impossible. It is about giving kids in this area a chance. Possilpark is an area of social deprivation. That means people die younger than they should, up to ten years younger than in affluent areas. We have to change that. How? By using sport and work as a way out.’
Facenna points out the window, saying: ‘The next speedway rider is in the back of the scheme over there, maybe in a stolen car or on a stolen bike. We need to bring him here. We need to get them into work. We have a football academy with more than 300 kids in it already. We are building a speedway academy.
‘The carrot is the sport but the ultimate is teach skills for a good life. The whole propose of spending that £3m initially was to give Possilpark a hub.’
There is a cafe and a meeting room at the site. Men of a certain age come along to natter and repair machines of various types. There is bingo. There is community.
‘We have forged a good team on the track,’ says Facenna. ‘We were the second-best team in the UK last year and we have won silverware. But we know it is about more than that. It is about putting something back.
‘Even if the speedway starts making a profit, we won’t take a penny out. We want to stop the losses, save the sport from disappearing. We will do everything we can to make sure it survives. But we will ensure every penny of profit is ploughed back in.’
Ashfield Juniors have been playing since 1886 and speedway has been roaring in Glasgow since the 1920s. Is there a chance it could all end?
‘I don’t want to look at that,’ says Facenna. ‘The losses are going down and as long as it keeps going that way we will gladly support it.’
His association with speedway started when he saw riders dropping off bikes at his dad’s garage and he first went along to watch it aged five. ‘I love it,’ he says.
‘I want others to love it as well. This is a family sport, where there are no drunks, no problems, where you can get a drink and something nice to eat, where everything you need to know is up on a 70ft-screen with Tiger buddies going round offering to explain everything.’
So can he explain why a man who works around the clock, knows precisely where a bottom line lies, appreciates the value of every pound… why does such a man put so much money and effort into ensuring the preservation of the Tigers and a Junior football club?
‘You can’t just take,’ he says again. ‘This my life lesson: the more you put into the community the more you get back.’
He spreads his arms almost to embrace the enormous site that is
the fiefdom of two boys born in Possil. ‘Whatever Michael and I put in, I feel we get it back in satisfaction in doing something for the community.
‘But here’s another thing. We have 50 apprentices and I know about ten of them have come in through their association with speedway, coming along and finding out we could offer something more than sport.
‘It helps business, too. People see what the company is doing in the area and come along here to have their repairs done or to buy a car. It’s what this business is about. We are part of the community.’
And speedway is part of his life. ‘I probably spend too much time on it,’ he admits. ‘But it just gets into you. You want to show people just how much fun it is.’
These words form the last scene of an unlikely Field of Dreams in the less than starry Possilpark. The Facennas have built it. They wait to see if more will come.
‘This is not mission impossible. It is about giving kids a chance’