Mike “Meathead” Collins

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Everyone asks about the origin of the name MEATHEAD RACING. Mike, a former Marine, worked for an employer who always misspoke and called Mike a “MEATHEAD” instead of the often used term for a Marine-”jarhead”. The name stuck and thus MEATHEAD Racing was born in 2002.  At first it was just Mike with a funny sticker on the car.  Then in 2003, Mike’s father (Chris Collins) joined the action and formed MEATHEAD Racing LLP.  Early in 2003, Chris Tamburo and Gregg Downer joined the team.  They were all classmates at the “all in one” Roebling Road Double Drivers School in 2002.  A little later in 2003, Bad Bell joined the team as the salty veteran.  In 2004 MEATHEAD Racing launched its trackside support program and built three rental cars.  MEATHEAD Racing is now considered one of the premier Spec Miata rental firms in the country.

Since the beginning, Mike has been a contender, finishing his first ever race with a 4th place, just missing the podium.  In 2006 Mike won his first sprint race and finished the season in 2nd place behind his teammate Bad Al Bell, who won the championship.  In 2006 Mike and Bad Al also finished in the North East National series with 4th and 5th places.

Mike lives in Mount Airy, MD with his wife Wendy and their future racers Cole, Wyatt, Valerie, and Irina.

Mike aka: MEAT, MEATHEAD, Reverend Pimp Daddy Minister of Soul, and Moses. Mike is also the WDCR SM Drivers Representative, Paddock Marshal, and a life member of the No Limit Soldiers Club.

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2 Comments

  1. Lew Warden says:

    Some folks say the term “meathead” first came into use as Archie Bunker’s name for the role Rob Reiner played, but it was in use long before that. I recall using in on May 12, 1944 in the nose of a 96th Bomb Group (8th Air Force) B-17 en route to Brux, Czechoslovakia, that was about to be hit by a humungous wave of Luftwaffe fighters that had just attacked our lead wing (led by the 94th Bomb Group) head on and was heading for us at 12 o’clock level.
    Our bombardier’s head was swinging back and forth as he turned his chin turreted .50 caliber twin Brownings. (I think it was his first mission and he may have had “buck fever”, but more likely just mometary indecision because there were so many threatening targets. I know it was only my third, although our pilot had about 16 in when this crew was formed up.) At a closing speed of over 600 mph the fighers would would be on us and gone before he made up his mind to pull the trigger. So I hollered “Shoot, meathead!” and smacked him hard on the side of his helmet. And he really cut loose.
    The German’s first attack blew up our wing and deputy wing leads, and God knows how many others on their first pass, leaving our ship, Why Not? piloted by Capt. G.B. Palm leading the high squadron as our wing leader. The fighters then circled back through us like sharks in a feeding frenzy, and it was just one long desperate shoot out as Palm rallied the survivors. I, the navigator, had plenty to do with my own .50 Brownings, port and starboard, and trying to figure out where the hell we are between fighter attacks. Eventually a Lockheed P-38 twin engined fighter appeared off our starboard quarter and what was left of the Luftwaffe fighters vanished. So Capt. Palm, leading the remainder of our wing, headed after another formation of B-17s attacking a less distant target to our north. We dropped our bombs on some railroad marshalling in Zwickau and got the hell out of Dodge.
    But our poor bombardier forever after was called “meathead.”
    Lew Warden
    Santa Maria, CA

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