NASCAR Doesn’t Love Me Anymore ~ Reprise
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I bid you welcome gentle readers, and extend the same
warm welcome to our assigned reader of all things NASCAR related. It’s a sunny
and semi-warm (for January) day in the hills of North Georgia. The Chili Bowl
is running through this week in Tulsa, Oklahoma and the Barrett-Jackson Auction
is up and running in Scottsdale, Arizona. But I told you all about those things
last week and for my efforts, it was the least read article I’ve written in
years.
I’m not even sure what that tells me. Racing will
begin at Daytona International Speedway in just a couple weeks, and it seems
that no one cares. That doesn’t come as much of a surprise, as we’ve watched
the slow but insidious dying of a once grand sport. Back in 2004, I wrote a
column which stood for years as my most read column. As this site has grown in
stature and readership, it’s been surpassed by several others now, but hasn’t
run here in a long time. It first saw print 15 years ago next week, on the
pages of Insider Racing News. It was written in answer to the “State of the
Sport” message delivered by Brian Z. France, the “new” CEO of NASCAR after the
retirement of his Dad, Bill France Jr. due to failing health. If anyone among
us is a true glutton for punishment, you can read the transcript of that press
conference in its entirety by simply clicking
somewhere around here.
With that said, and possibly read, I’d like everyone
to read at least one answer delivered during that conference by our new
“Leader.” As happens with pressers at times, the question asked was inaudible,
but the answer, given here word for word, speaks volumes… and begs for a
teleprompter and a ghost writer all in the same breath.
BRIAN
FRANCE: We weren't in a position to
share all the details because we didn't have all the details, so as a
consequence, anybody who was thinking about what we were going to do, didn't
know all the facts. But that goes with
the territory. What also goes with the
territory is when you make changes, and I am no different as a sports fan or my
favorite restaurant or whatever it is, and you tell me you are going to change
it, I immediately get a little bit nervous.
But over time I will get comfortable with whatever changes there are and
so will our drivers, if it's the right thing to do, and it is, they are going
to get comfortable with it. Our fans are
going to love it because it's going to make racing even better than it is today. So you know, while we look at that, it's not
something that deters us from moving ahead and doing the right thing.
Yes, I think that explains the machinations of the
brain that conceived what I’ve always referred to as the “Chase for No
Sponsorship.” My alter-ego, The Lady in Black, christened it as such with her
very first article of 2004 and I’ve never argued for a minute with the veracity
or accuracy of that name.
Now, with the stage set, so to speak, here is my
article, which appeared 4 days after the Press Conference, January 24, 2004 on
the pages of Insider Racing News. When it ran that first time, there was
music playing softly in the background. The song then was Auld Lang Syne.
If Weebly cooperates, the music today should be Floyd Cramer's Faded Love.
NASCAR Doesn’t Love me Any More
I don’t think that NASCAR loves me anymore. Now, what
would give me that idea? It is simple logic combined with telltale behavior. Do
you remember your high school dating days? (Those of you that are now out of
high school) All of us, at one time or another, have had someone break up with
us.
About the time that you think that you and your steady
companion are destined to spend the ages together, he or she slowly becomes
less sensitive to your needs and wants. Finally, you hear those dreaded words,
“I think we should start seeing other people.” He or she tells you that it is
not your fault; that you are actually too good for them. They try to convince
you that it is being done for you and it will be a good thing in the end. Shortly
after that, you find yourself on the scrap heap of teenage romance, while some
flirtatious young thing is with your “used-to-be” and is sporting the ring that
you always dreamed of.
Well, that is exactly what I sense is happening to my
relationship with NASCAR. Considering that I live in Georgia and have been
hanging around with NASCAR for some fifty years, they see me as a comfortable
old shoe, but are interested in seeing other people.
Certainly, they have become insensitive to my needs
and wants. As a fan from the “old school”, when they asked my opinion of some
things they were contemplating, I gave it willingly, but it was as if they
never heard me.
They asked me about the “Gentlemen’s agreement” and I
told them that I thought it was ridiculous. There are no more Ned Jarretts on the track. They listened to me that time, after
a nearly calamitous situation, and did away with the barbaric practice of
racing to the caution flag. Somehow, they forgot to ask me about the new
concept of “giving” laps back that is being referred to as the “Lucky dog
rule.” Instead, they just went ahead and did it, knowing all the while that it
would hurt my sensibilities.
They asked me about taking a race away from storied
old North Carolina Speedway and it made me cry but they took it anyway. It’s
not the first time that has happened either. They have taken away Hickory,
Bowman Gray, South Boston and of course, that granddaddy of all short-tracks,
North Wilkesboro.
They asked me about taking the Southern 500 from Darlington
and moving it to the left coast. I told them that tradition was worth more than
money, but they didn’t listen. Then they asked me my thoughts on the point
system and I shared them willingly. I told them that most of what had been
discussed earlier was to my liking.
They talked of giving a point bonus to the winner, so
that he would outscore the second place finisher every time. I liked that and
suggested that it be a meaningful bonus that would make winning something to
strive for, 25 or even better, 50 points for a win. They grudgingly granted 5
(F-I-V-E) points more to the winner, a lukewarm response at best.
They talked of freezing points at the rear of the
field, which would have given the rolling wounded no reason to crawl back onto
the track. Perhaps because I liked that idea, they never implemented it, opting
instead to institute a minimum track speed to discourage the rolling wrecks
from coming back out. It was my impression that there always was
a minimum track speed.
Then they asked me my thoughts on something they must
have dragged out from behind a goalpost somewhere. Someone that sits in a high
place (Are your ears ringing, Brian?) thought it would be a wonderful idea to
institute some sort of play-off scenario. I waited patiently for an explanation,
even when others were feeding the rumor mill with stories. It was difficult for
me to understand how one could have a play-off when there is only one series.
Play-offs in the stick and ball sports are used to determine the best of
several divisions. One does not play off against oneself.
When the explanation came, they told me not to call it
a play-off. It would be known as “The Chase for the Championship.” That is a
nice synonym for “disaster” in my book. They will take the top ten drivers in the
point race and anyone else that is lucky enough (or good enough) to be within
400 points of the leader and rearrange their points, so that they will be
unreachable by the rest of the field. The leader will be given 5050 points, the
second place driver, 5045 and so on down the line, with points diminishing in
5-point increments. [Please note, these
were the original rules of the Chase]
One has to wonder why the leader or anyone close to
him over the summer would try very hard to extend a point lead that will only
be erased after Richmond. Have they simply then, given a reason for “stroking”
to move into a different time frame? Unless their particular driver is in that
precious top-ten, there will not be a happy sponsor in the series. In reality,
the only entity that will be enhanced by this format is NBC, and that leads us
to assume that despite statements to the contrary, they are the puppeteer
pulling the strings.
Then, they went on to tell me that in the long run it
would be good for me; that they were really doing it all for me. Are you
beginning to follow the logic in this? NASCAR is telling me, as gently as
possible, that we are breaking up. When I raised questions as to just how it
would benefit me in any way (or the drivers and sponsors, for that matter),
they merely told me, “It is what it is.”
Well,
NASCAR, with full knowledge of “What the meaning of ‘is’ is’”, let me tell you
that what it is, is BS! I am reminded of Popeye, with a pipe
sticking out of the corner of his mouth, singing, “I yam what I yam,” but this
time he bears a strong resemblance to Mike Helton.
While all this was happening, NASCAR was already
seeing other people. What has caught their fickle eye now is no longer the
race-loving southerner that has been their bread and butter for all of their
years. It is a generation of youngsters that know nothing whatsoever of the
history and tradition of the sport, nor do they care.
Everything NASCAR does now is for them. All of the
shiny new stadiums are for them, while I remained content to visit the ones
with concrete bleachers and few working rest rooms. The music played at
on-track concerts is no longer of the Country genre, but a loud, coarse
sounding clamor having no understandable lyrics. At most of the newer tracks,
even the Star Spangled Banner has become an assault to the ears of the old
fans, with performers knowing neither the words nor the tune.
Out on the track, gone are the cars that looked like
they could have been driven from your garage to the track and then entered in
the race. In this new and more polished racing series, the “SC” in NASCAR now
stands for Standardized Chassis rather than Stock Car.
Gone too are the drivers with differing personalities
and almost all of the drivers that dare to have taken more than forty turns
around the sun. Today’s driver is a young, good-looking and well-spoken little
corporate soldier whose primary duty is to represent his sponsor in a
politically correct manner. If he can drive fast, that is even better. Great
drivers like Tiny Lund would not be welcome in today’s NASCAR, nor would they
fit into today’s cars.
It’s rather sad, but I think you will agree that NASCAR
doesn’t love me anymore. We are about to break up, but it is not of my doing.
Now, gentle readers, test your memories. How many of you have any idea whatever
happened to that lost puppy love that you used to know? How many of you even
care? There are not a lot of hands waving out there, but there was a point to
my question.
NASCAR, you can break up with me if you think it’s for
the best, but don’t think for a minute that I will still be available when your
young love dumps you for the next craze down the road. It always hurts to feel
unwanted, but the disease is no more fatal than a hangnail. Your old fans will
be just fine, with you or without you. Think it over and choose wisely.
That final bit of sage advice is not part of the
original article, but something from my files that I believe made an apt
signoff for that treasured old piece that held and still holds so much of what
I think and feel. Throughout that year of 2004, this scribe wrote a large
number of articles on an equal amount of changes that the new regime brought
about, and not all of them were bad. More might have worked, had they not been
based on bad advice, given I’m sure at great expense, but wrong, nevertheless.
It was the feeling of folks in New York City
boardrooms that the “older generation”, now longingly referred to as “core
fans”, couldn’t hope to keep up with technology or life with computers and
smart phones, and so the target demographic became geared to the 18-35-year
olds and we old farts were quite rudely put out to pasture. Every step of the
way was exactly as I described above in likening my (Our) relationship with
NASCAR to a failed romance.
That, gentle readers, is where NASCAR got it so wrong.
This old fart is not allergic to change and in many cases has willingly and happily
accepted each new part of life as it came along. Today I am an 80-year old
female, well versed in technology, with my own website, 2 computers and a smart
phone, all of which I can and do put to use every single day. Along with that,
I stand as a proud member of the generation that has and uses the largest
amount of disposable income on planet Earth. That’s another thing that Brian
and the boys on the Beach overlooked when they tossed us cavalierly aside.
You’ve read the words written well over a decade ago,
and today you cannot help but see the empty grandstands and the well-published
and plummeting TV ratings. What say you gentle readers? Is this scribe just a
crotchety old woman, out of step with society, or did she have it right from
the start and has everything she predicted come to pass?
Today, I write only for the race fans. This lady is
not and never was a shill for NASCAR, and she has never seen their tyrannical
rulers as perfect. Quite the contrary, there have been some major missteps and
total blunders at the hands of the France family down through the years, but
NASCAR itself always survived and grew, either because of or in spite of them.
This third generation though, has taken what was a good thing and turned it
into merely a tax write-off for losses suffered.
That’s enough from me, for today, tomorrow, next week
and maybe next month. I’ll close by simply pointing out one more time that
there is a vast… astronomical… astounding [feel free to add your own
superlative adjectives here] difference between being a race fan, which I have
always been and will always be, and being a NASCAR fan. As some tend to do,
there was a time when I might have confused the two, but since the ascension of
Emperor Brian to the throne, the difference has become abundantly clear.
Ironic that as I write this, the Emperor has been
dethroned, a victim of his own ineptitude, and is scheduled for a third
appearance in court to answer to charges of aggravated drunk driving and
possession of a controlled substance (Oxycodone) on Friday, the same day this
will appear on Jayski.com.
Today gentle readers, our Country Classic Closeout
will consist of a single song. This is Patsy Cline, sharing with us her
hauntingly beautiful rendition of the old Bob Wills favorite, “Faded
Love”… so very stirringly lovely.
Be well gentle readers, and remember to keep smiling.
It looks so good on you!
~PattyKay