FOX Broadcaster Mike Joy’s Devastation Evident as NASCAR Pulls the Plug on “Grandfather’s Clock”

NASCAR’s trophies are the stuff of legend, each one a snapshot of the sport’s soul. Bristol Motor Speedway, the “Last Great Colosseum,” hands out a gladiator sword, a nod to its brutal, high-banked battles where winners like Kyle Busch raise it like warriors in front of 150,000 roaring fans.

Texas Motor Speedway leans into its cowboy roots, gifting winners a custom hat and six-shooter revolvers for a Wild West shootout in Victory Lane. Kevin Harvick and Busch have played the part, firing blanks and posing for iconic photos. Also, Nashville Superspeedway’s Gibson guitar, hand-painted by artists like the late Sam Bass, celebrates Music City’s vibe. Busch’s 2009 guitar-smashing moment stirred both awe and controversy. These trophies aren’t just prizes; they’re symbols of NASCAR’s deep ties to its venues and fans.

But no trophy carries the weight of Martinsville Speedway’s grandfather clock, a tradition since 1964 that’s as much a part of NASCAR’s heart as the paperclip-shaped track itself. Now, that legacy is in jeopardy with news that the clock’s manufacturer is shutting down, leaving fans and insiders reeling.

Longtime NASCAR broadcaster Mike Joy, whose voice has narrated decades of Martinsville magic, didn’t hide his heartbreak. He took to X to share his grief over the potential end of an iconic tradition.

Mike Joy, Mourning

Mike Joy’s connection to Martinsville’s grandfather clock runs deep, and he didn’t hold back on X: “When we first visited Ridgeway Clocks for TNN (early ’90s) the clocks were made there, and a star employee was chosen to present the special ‘Speedway Clock’ to the race winner.” His words paint a vivid picture of a bygone era when Ridgeway Clocks, the original maker, handcrafted each trophy with pride, making the presentation a personal moment of glory. That tradition, born in 1964 with Fred Lorenzen’s pole-to-win victory, has defined Martinsville’s two annual Cup races, including its playoff Round of 8 spot, for over six decades.

The news hit hard. Howard Miller, which took over Ridgeway in 2004, is closing shop, citing “unsustainable” costs driven by Trump-era tariffs that spiked prices for essential components. Howard J. Miller, the company’s president and grandson of its founder, explained, “Our business has been directly impacted by tariffs that have increased the cost of essential components unavailable domestically and driven specialty suppliers out of business, making it unsustainable for us to continue our operations.” The closure threatens the clock’s future, as no buyer has stepped up to keep production alive.

Joy’s tweet captures the emotional weight of losing a piece of NASCAR’s soul. Martinsville, one of the sport’s oldest tracks since 1949, has made the grandfather clock a symbol of triumph. Lorenzen’s 1964 sweep, leading 980 of 1,000 laps, set the tone. Each clock, a towering testament to victory, carries the track’s history. With Miller’s exit, NASCAR faces the challenge of finding a new supplier to preserve the tradition. Joy’s public lament shows just how much it means to the sport’s storytellers.

Dale Jr.’s plea to save the tradition

Dale Earnhardt Jr., a  Martinsville clock owner himself, isn’t taking the news lightly. His 2014 Goody’s Headache Relief Shot 500 win earned him one of those iconic grandfather clocks, and he’s fiercely protective of its legacy. On X, he didn’t mince words: “Whomever makes the next version better make them exactly like the previous versions. Don’t get cute and fu** this up.” His blunt plea reflects a shared fan fear—that a new supplier might tamper with the clock’s classic design, diluting its historic charm.

Earnhardt’s demand for fidelity isn’t just nostalgia. It’s a call to honor what makes Martinsville special. The grandfather clock, unchanged since Fred Lorenzen’s era, is a rare constant in a sport that’s evolved wildly. With Howard Miller’s closure leaving the tradition in limbo, NASCAR’s options are to find a new supplier or risk ending a 60-year ritual. Earnhardt’s stance is clear: any replacement better nail the original’s look and feel, or they’ll answer to him and the fans.

The uncertainty stings. While Miller is open to offers, no deal is in sight. Fans and figures like Joy are left wondering if the clock’s tick is running out. NASCAR could pivot to a new maker, but replacing such an iconic piece won’t be easy. It’s not just a trophy; it’s Martinsville’s heartbeat.