Larry Lawrence | February 19, 2020
Archives: The One and Only Todd Schuster
Todd Schuster was one of those larger-than-life characters that you never forget. Todd died on January 24 in Westwood, New Jersey. He was 76. Friends say he’d been ill for a long time, so his it wasn’t a complete surprise, still it’s a shock to the system when someone who was such a big part of racing history passes away.
Archives: The One and Only Todd Schuster
After seeing the outpouring of love and admiration for Todd’s craftsmanship, his inventiveness and his fun-loving personality, with comments by friends, we have the opportunity to look back at Todd’s life with a fuller picture of the influence he had on the sport.
Todd was a master fabricator and was instrumental in the early days of AMA Superbike racing with Butler & Smith BMW and American Honda. After years of working with race teams, Todd opened his own shop, Precision Specialties in Tappan, NY. He was also a member of IATSE Local 1 in NYC.
Todd got his start in motorcycling working a side job doing pre-delivery inspection for the legendary New Jersey racing shop AMOL Precision, owned by Oscar Liebmann.
He came to national fame as the fabricator for the stunning Butler & Smith BMW Superbikes of the late-1970s. Todd and team boss Udo Gietl, were masters of reading the AMA rule book, finding the gaps and filling them with the among the most imaginative creations ever seen in motorcycle road racing. Look at the Butler & Smith BMW R90S ridden by Reg Pridmore to the very first AMA Superbike Championship in 1976 and you’ll see innovations dreamed up by Gietl and brought to life by Schuster.
Did the bikes look or perform anything like production BMWs? No. Were they legal? Let’s just say they passed tech, often amid protests from fellow competitors.
The Butler & Smith BMWs were masterful on the track and whenever the bikes rolled through the paddock, fans did everything they could to get a closer look. That’s about all you can expect from a racing machine and Todd’s chassis wizardry was a big reason the Butler & Smith Superbikes were such magical machines.
When Udo got the call to run Honda’s factory Superbike team, Todd got the call to join him. And again, Todd found ways to make the powerful 1000cc beasts handle at least halfway decent, for riders like Freddie Spencer and Mike Baldwin.
“The riders were saying ‘The bike wiggles,’” Gietl recalls. “What was happening was the downtube system would flex. I asked Todd what he was going to do. He said, “’I’ll fix it and no one will see it. He went back and with a Dremel tool, cut the bend open, top to bottom, took a slice of steel and slid it in there, tag wielded it together, ground it off, wielded again and then you had two D-shaped tubes wielded together. Nobody would see it, nobody would know. We go to Willow Springs, and I think Freddie [Spencer] rode it and he said, ‘This is great! Perfect.’
“So I came back and said, ‘Todd, I got news for you. It’s perfect and now I need 11 more frames.’ And Todd would go through his cursing and carrying on, but you know what? The job got done.”
Udo went on to explain Todd wasn’t exactly the corporate type.
“He kept odd hours,” Udo said. “He would come in at five in the afternoon and then work all night. He was just a great guy, a very hard worker and brilliant at looking at simple drawings and building racing components with great precision and care.”
Todd was a big man, a powerful one too, so remembers Jim Rogers. “I remember seeing him at a Loudon carrying a complete boxer engine under one arm. [I’ll] never forget that image.”
Todd was a gentle soul at heart, but knew with his size he could be intimidating when he needed to be. Once at Laguna Seca when Honda brought its NR500 for Freddie Spencer to ride, fans were doing all they could to get a glimpse and possibly a close-up photo of Honda’s trick four-stroke GP machine. One bold fan stepped inside Honda’s tent and was just focusing his camera on the bike when he suddenly sensed a huge shadow looming beside him. The snapshot hopeful looked up to see Todd standing next to him saying, “If you want to keep that camera, you’d better beat it.” “Yes sir,” said the photographer as he beat a hasty retreat.
Todd was also legendary for his humor. Friends say he would make off-the-wall observations of things that would evoke a big belly laugh. As a Superbike builder, Todd knew just what to do to make a little dig at the GP riders and mechanics. He showed up wearing a t-shirt that read, “I would rather eat worms than ride a two stroke.”
“I knew Todd for over 60 years. He was one of the greatest, most memorable and talented friends I’ve ever known,” said his buddy Skip Vezzetti. “We rode together and he built several bikes for me. What can I say? Todd was more than a mechanic or fabricator; he was an artist. You can’t speak about or think of Todd without smiling. He’ll be missed by all his friends.”
Cook Neilson, AMA Superbike racing pioneer and former Cycle magazine editor, who knew Todd longer than probably anyone else in the industry, wrote what is perhaps the best summation of the way the folks in racing viewed Todd.
“Of all the great people I’ve been lucky enough to know in motorcycling’s wonderful world, Todd was right up there at the top,” Cook said. “We got to be friends drag racing back in the early Sixties, and stayed friends for close to 60 years. Beyond his mechanical skills, his warmth and generosity, his loyalty, and his work ethic, he was the funniest human I’ve ever been around. There will never be another like him.”
You can read the digital edition of this story here: https://magazine.cyclenews.com/i/1212072-cycle-news-2020-issue-07-february-19/120