08/23/2026
Last night we honored
Ronny Sigman. A memorial race is more than a title to the weekend. Guice Mercer our announcer and voice of RPM wrote a tribute to Ronny and some of you may not have gotten to hear it, so we want to post it here for you all to enjoy. And in Guice fashion its long but worth the read.
In Memory of Ronny Sigman
Good evening, everybody.
Tonight, weāre not just here to watch a race.
Weāre here to remember a man who was a big part of what makes this placeāand this racing communityāwhat it is.
Tonight, we honor Ronny Sigman
Now, I never had the privilege of knowing Ronny the way some of you did. But the more people I talked to, the more I realized something:
Everybody seemed to have a Ronny story.
And somehow, every story sounded a little differentā¦ but they all ended the same way.
Ronny made people feel important.
Ronny was just a simple man.
He was a man's man.
You could usually find him with his cowboy hat on, his sleeves cut off, a Winston cigarette hanging out of his mouth, with a Coors Light in his hand.
And if there was diesel in his truck, ci******es in his pocket, a snack to chew on, and a cold beer waiting for himā¦
Ronny was a happy man.
He didn't need much.
But what Ronny had that money can't buy was character.
He worked at City Motor Supply for more than 30 years, and Eddie Scott took him under his wing when he was a young man. Eddie helped teach him about racing and introduced him to a world that would become such a huge part of Ronny's life.
Ronny eventually became part of the history of this racetrack.
He was there helping launch RPM Speedway with Wesley Mannery, and he wasn't just somebody who showed up at the track.
Ronny was part of the fabric of this place.
He raced for Kenneth Burkham, who was Kim Rameys dad...and Kim told me one of my favorite Ronny stories.
Back around 1985 or '86 at Cowtown, Kenneth told Ronny that if he could win ten races in a row, he'd give Ronny one of his prized gold nugget bracelets.
Well, Ronny gets to that tenth race.
He's leading.
And then he gets taken out.
Ronny goes to the infield, takes his helmet off, and he's obviously pretty frustrated.
But then Ronny puts that helmet back on.
He goes back out there.
And apparently, he decided he was going to get the guy who took him out.
The only problem wasā¦
He missed him.
And instead, he took out almost the entire field.
Everybody except the guy he was after.
Now, I don't know about y'allā¦
but that's a Ronny story.
And the best part?
About 25 years later, around 2012, Ronny finally got that gold bracelet.
So, Ronny may not have won that tenth raceā¦
but he eventually got his bling.
And Ronny loved his jewelry.
He loved his bling.
He was proud of it.
But I think if you really knew Ronny, you understood that the jewelry wasn't what made him shine.
Ronny did that all by himself.
There was another night when Ronny completely missed his race.
Not because he was broken down.
Not because he wasn't there.
Not because he forgot he was racing.
He was sitting in the trailer talking with his friendsā¦
and simply wasn't paying attention.
He was having too good of a time visiting.
And honestly, I think that's probably one of the most Ronny things I've heard.
Because Ronny wasn't always worried about the race.
Sometimes, he was more interested in the people.
There was another story about a championship that was coming down to the wire.
The driver's car blew a motor, and everything was on the line.
Ronny called him and said,
"Bring some duct tape."
They duct-taped that driver's number onto Ronny's car.
And Ronny went out there and helped solidify that championship.
That's the kind of man Ronny was.
And I've heard stories about Ronny wrecking during a heat race, not being able to continue for the night.
But then he'd look around and see somebody else who had broken.
And Ronny would start taking parts off his own car and giving them to somebody else so they could keep racing.
Think about that for a minute.
A man who had just wrecked his own carā¦
would take parts off of it and give them away so somebody else could race.
That's Ronny.
He wasn't rich in money.
But Ronny was rich in character.
And he gave away something far more valuable than money.
He gave people his time.
D**k McCullough told me he remembers sitting in the pits with Ronny many nights until the sun came up.
Drinking beers.
Talking racing.
"Bench racing."
Watching the sunrise.
And I'm sure a lot of you sitting in these stands tonight could tell me your own version of that same story.
Because Ronny had a way of making you feel like you were his best friend.
He would give you the shirt off his backā¦
even if he needed it more than you did.
And that's what Kim Ramey remembers most.
She described Ronny as the perfect man.
Loving.
Kind.
Always making other people feel important.
And always putting himself last.
That's a pretty powerful way to be remembered.
Now, Ronny wasn't without his quirks.
And some of them are pretty damn funny.
For one thing, Ronny was scared to death of thunderstorms.
If a storm started rolling in, Ronny wasn't standing around watching it.
He was shutting doors.
Hunkering down.
Getting inside.
But then, apparently, that same man who was terrified of a thunderstorm had another obsession.
Ambulances.
Kim remember that if Ronny was working in the shop and an ambulance went by, everything stopped.
It didn't matter what he was doing.
Ronny was going to find out where that ambulance was going.
He'd chase one down.
He'd turn around on the freeway.
He'd do whatever he had to do just to satisfy his curiosity.
Because Ronny had to know what was going on.
And I think that's another thing that made him Ronny.
He was interested in people.
He was interested in life.
He was interested in what was happening around him.
And he was always there.
Now, I know there are people sitting in these stands tonight who have stories about Ronny that are probably funnier, crazier, and maybe a hell of a lot more inappropriate than anything I could say up here.
And that's okay.
Because that's how Ronny should be remembered.
Not just with sadness.
But with laughter.
With stories.
With cold beers.
With racing.
With friends sitting around the pits until the sun comes up.
That's Ronny.
And yesā¦
I've also heard that when Ronny passed, there were quite a few broken hearts among the ladies.
Apparently, Ronny had a following.
So tonight, somewhere up there, I'm sure Ronny is wearing his cowboy hat, showing off that gold bracelet, drinking a cold Coors Lightā¦
and probably still wondering why everybody is crying over him when there are races to watch.
But here's what I think Ronny would want us to do tonight.
I think he'd want us to enjoy ourselves.
I think he'd want us to race hard.
I think he'd want us to cheer loud.
I think he'd want us to tell stories.
I think he'd want us to look around at the people sitting beside us and appreciate them.
Because Ronny understood something that sometimes the rest of us forget.
Life isn't about how much you have.
It's about who you have.
It's about the people you help.
The people you make laugh.
The people you stand beside.
The people you give a hand to when they need it.
And the people who will still tell stories about you long after you're gone.
Ronny wasn't a wealthy man.
But he was wealthy in friendship.
Wealthy in loyalty.
Wealthy in kindness.
And wealthy in character.
His legacy isn't just in trophies or checkered flags.
It's in the people he helped.
It's in the racers who got back on the track because Ronny gave them a part.
It's in the friends who stayed up all night with him in the pits.
It's in the kids who looked up to him.
It's in the fans who followed him.
It's in the people who can still tell a Ronny story and immediately start smiling.
And that's why we're here tonight.
We're not just remembering how Ronny died.
We're celebrating how he lived.
So tonight, as the cars hit the track, let's remember the cowboy hat.
The cut-off sleeves.
The Winston.
The Coors Light.
The gold jewelry.
The big smile.
The crazy stories.
The late nights.
The generosity.
The friendships.
And that heart that always seemed to put somebody else first.
Ronny Sigman was one of those people who didn't have to be famous to leave a mark.
He just had to be Ronny.
And he did that better than anybody.
So to Ronniy's family, his friends, his racing family, and everybody here who loved himā
Thank you for letting us be part of remembering him tonight.
And Ronnyā¦
wherever you are tonight, I hope you've got plenty of diesel, plenty of ci******es, something good to chew on, and a cold Coors Light in your hand.
And I hope you're looking down on this racetrack tonight with that cowboy hat onā¦
watching your people do what you loved.
We miss you.
We remember you.
And we honor you tonight.
Ladies and gentlemenā
this one's for Ronny.
Let's make some noise for him.
