It could have happened only in the '70s - that great decade of experimentation and wretched excess. Really, how can you explain the bizarre spectacle that first unfolded during Speedweeks '77? We're talking about the late, unlamented NASCAR Superspeedway Modified division - a can't-miss idea that did. The Superspeedway Modifieds - then called the Mod Squad - were an outgrowth of Bill France's quest for a successful Friday show on the weekend of the Daytona 500. The original idea was to run conventional short track modifieds on the combination oval/road course. Bobby Allison won two of the first three editions, in '74 and '76, while Merv Treichler took the '75 running - all in cars that were aerodynamically slick. The short track mods didn't have a chance. France then decided to unleash a special new modified on the high banks. The rules were, shall we say, liberal. In his race report from the '77 edition, Rich Benyo wrote, "A walk through the modified garage area during the weak leading up to the NASCAR 200 for Modifieds became a walking tour of aerodynamic theory from the Wright Brothers to the NASA Space Shuttle."

The variety was staggering. Treichler, Jerry Cook, and John Anderson brought IMSA-looking Monzas; USAC stars Butch Hartman and Bay Darnell towed their regular (and remarkably tame-looking) Camaros south; and Harry Gant, Darrell Waltrip, and Pee Wee Griffin (with the legendary Richie Evans in his car) had Camaros that were purpose-built, but relatively stock looking. Joe Thurman even built a "Dusterbird," a Plymouth Duster with a Superbird nose. In that first superspeedway race, Anderson put his Monza on the pole, and Harry Gant's stock-bodied Firebird took the checkers. While the racing up front was excellent, the field was a tad short in quantity and quality - and the speed differential between the front and rear of the pack was more than 40 m.p.h. Still, it was beautiful! After driving to a fine third-place finish, Clayton Petersen hauled his Camaro back to Nebraska, where he and the car dominated area dirt-track action. The Mod Squad gave hope to short-trackers everywhere. NASCAR expected a larger modified field at Daytona in '78, but 'twas not to be. There were a couple of new cars - B.R. DeWitt had sprung for a new Camaro for Evans, and Anderson now had a Camaro - but most racers did little more than add a coat of paint to their '77 rides.

 Already were heard some discouraging words. After the '77 season, Richie Evans told our own Andy Fusco, "You just can't expect short-track drivers with short-track cars to put on a decent super-speedway show. Likewise, you can't expect us to go out and spend $20,000 for a big-track car which we can only use a few times a year." Darrell Waltrip, in one of those $20,000 cars, won the '78 Mod 200. Defying all predictions, the Mod Squad was back in '79. This time, the only new car of note was the USAC Firebird of Rusty Wallace, making his first-ever Daytona appearance. Evans dazzled the Speedweeks crowd by carving up a field made up of modifieds, Grand Americans, and obsolete sportsman cars. By now the disparity between the fastest and slowest cars was 63 mph., and in what was now becoming an annual ritual, our own Dr. Dick Berggren proclaimed the Super-speedway Modified a "dead animal." While the division may not have been dead, clearly it was dying. After running at Charlotte, Daytona, Dover, Pocono, Talladega, and Trenton in '77, the Mod Squad had been dropped by all but Daytona and Talladega by '79.

 The last gasp came in 1980. Evans triumphed again from the pole (which he won at 196 m.p.h., at the time the fastest Daytona qualifying lap ever - in any kind of car) over the shortest field yet. Their demise was a shame. Despite the cost, the Mod 200 was the last legitimate shot short-trackers had at winning Daytona. At the time of his '77 triumph, Gant was a card-carrying short track racer, and Evans was a modified guy through and through, which left Waltrip as the only "big-time" driver to win. And in a testament to the backyard constructors who built many of those bizarre creations, no one was killed or seriously injured in a Mod 200, despite some heart-stopping crashes. The Mod Squad was the last bastion of innovation at Daytona. An average guy could take his half-mile car, add some aero tricks (or not), and go racing at the Big D. Mod racers came from both coasts, in all types of cars, turning the Daytona garage into the racing equivalent of Forrest Gump's box of chocolates.

Evans's and Griffin's Camaros survive today at the International Motorsports Hall of Fame at Talladega. But even the curators of the museum don't precisely know what to make of the cars; the Griffin Camaro is identified simply as "Neil Bonnett's Sportsman Car." Perhaps this final indignity is appropriate. All wretched excess and exaggeration, the Mod Squad defied description. But it provided a beautiful experience for those who were there to see it.