[Pitt Gorilla]

Arlo Becker (MPJ's grandfather) dead at 79, leaves tremendous racing legacy

“If you can’t win, be spectacular.”

Those were six words Arlo Becker lived by traveling across Eastern Iowa and beyond to dirt and asphalt racetracks. No matter if it was in his iconic No. 88 Modified, behind the wheel of heavy machinery working dirt for a race or standing along the fence watching cars go by, those words were all you really needed to know about him.

The legend — who amassed hundreds of wins and many track championships across six decades of racing — died Monday at age 79 after injuries sustained when a tractor he was operating up a steep grade overturned, pinning him to the ground.

His fellow racers, promoters, media members and family remembered him by that quote. Whatever Becker did, it was spectacular, and he stands as one of the seminal figures in Eastern Iowa racing history.

“People don’t understand the actual depth of my dad’s involvement in racing in Eastern Iowa or the upper Midwest,” said Mike Becker, Arlo’s son. “It wasn’t with a helmet on, but he went out working to the end.”

Becker’s work ethic and “roughneck” lifestyle — as described by longtime friend Bill Haglund — earned him a reputation as sometimes gruff, but a man with a big heart. He operated Beckers Auto Salvage in Atkins for many years, and his work mirrored his racing style: all out.

If you raced in Eastern Iowa or watched racing in Eastern Iowa any time between the 1960s and early 2010s, you knew who Arlo Becker was.

His impact on racing as a driver came with the many wins, sure, but it was the way he drove that both endeared him to so many and enraged so many. You either loved Becker or booed Becker. There was no real in between.

But even the guys who he had run-ins with on track had respect for him because, as Cedar Rapids’ veteran racer Johnny Spaw put it, “it didn’t matter who you were, he raced you the same.”

“If you want to talk about entertainment value, no one was more entertaining,” said Tim Plummer, who raced against Becker for several years in Modifieds at Hawkeye Downs. “He always gave the crowd their money’s worth, in one way or another.

“He was an instrumental person in the Modified deal and one of its first stars — and maybe its biggest star.”

Lofty words were thrown around Monday night when people spoke of Becker as they heard the news of his accident and death. Words like “legend,” and “icon,” were thrown around a lot, but so was another one: pioneer.

The IMCA Modified, which now has one of the highest rates of participation of any division in any motorsports sanctioning body across the country, was born in 1979. Along with Merv Chandler and a handful of others from Eastern Iowa, Becker was credited, as Plummer said, with being a central figure in building the class to what it is.

According to IMCA, Becker collected 51 career sanctioned IMCA Modified wins from 1979 through 2005 — including 18 more unsanctioned wins at Benton County Speedway, where the Modified was born — and was IMCA’s first Modified champion.

Longtime race promoter Keith Simmons said Becker would travel around the Midwest with his Modified to introduce the class to different markets and aid in its growth — something that can’t be quantified now, but certainly, Simmons said, was a tremendous help.

Becker also is the inspiration for much of the IMCA rulebook, as well.

Mike Becker joked Monday night, “IMCA didn’t like us,” because in the infancy of the Modified, Becker was an ambassador of the ideology that gaps in the rulebook were meant to be explored. Every person who was able to speak to The Gazette about Becker on Monday — Spaw, Plummer, Haglund, Mike Schulte, Simmons and IMCA President Brett Root — brought up unprompted that “probably half,” of the rules were because of Becker.

While that can often put a strain on sanctioning body and driver, Root — who said he raced against Becker at Benton County Speedway — remembered Becker fondly, even because of that history.

“He’s a fixture of this sport,” Root said. “Arlo was the say-whatever-he-wants, unedited; had one of those personalities that was very unfiltered, very opinionated, very good racer. Everybody has heard of Arlo. Everybody knows from way back to the days he was racing to when he was promoting.

“He was instrumental in ways where he forced IMCA to revisit rules. He was creative. That was his personality. He was as good a racer as there is.”

If there ever was a Mt. Rushmore for Eastern Iowa racing, it was unanimous Becker would have to be included.

He raced against the likes of Darrel Dake, Roger Dolan, Kenny Walton and all the way down to Schulte, Spaw, Plummer and even NASCAR driver Landon Cassill. Cassill was asked once who his favorite was to have raced against, as well as who taught him the most on the track. The Cedar Rapids native always had one answer: Arlo Becker.

“He wasn’t a high-profile guy way back when, but he raced with them and beat them,” Spaw said. “He could have done more and won more if he really would have went for it. But he was a hard worker and stuck with that.

“I’m glad I knew him.”

Into his late 70s, Becker remained active in the racing scene, still promoting his Race ‘Em and Wreck ‘Em demolition events around the area and attending races at Hawkeye Downs — including last Friday night.

He was a staple at tracks and events — including a reunion of veteran racers of the 1960s and 1970s in Lisbon this March — but in his latest days, his life and racing mantra of being “spectacular,” took on a bit of a different meaning.

It was his grandson whose turn it was to be spectacular. One of Becker’s daughters, Lisa Porter, is mother to the No. 1 basketball recruit in the nation, Michael Porter Jr., who is committed to play for Missouri next fall. At that reunion in Lisbon, Becker shared some old racing stories, sure. But he would grab anyone he could by the elbow and talk their ear off about Porter Jr. — as well as find videos on his phone.

Becker would have much rather told stories of Lisa or daughter Robin — now the head women’s basketball coach at Missouri — at Cedar Rapids Jefferson, or Michelle or Mike and their endeavors. His legacy was never of much concern to him.

It was spectacular, though.

“I raced against a lot of guys who were awful good, and each one had their special talents,” Schulte said. “But there was no one in his league as far as getting the most out of a car. He took what the car gave him and got a whole lot more out of it.

“He didn’t care if they cheered or booed, as long as he got something. He wanted to entertain. He did that.”