If you're the type of person who is easily excited by the latest restrictor plate technology or gets goose bumps when Talladega is brought up, you probably just want to move on before you read any further. Maybe, instead, turn to page one and check out what your cronies are up to in the Capitol these days.
If, however, you don't mind a little NASCAR bashing—or at least can tolerate questioning of the sport's practices—feel free to stick around.
I just don't really get the allure of stock car racing as a spectator sport. Don't get me wrong, I liked to drive fast when I first got my driver's license and I have been known to play Gran Turismo and Need For Speed: Shift, but participation is at the center of excitement for me. Maybe I just don't know enough about it. That must be it. Still, when it comes to NASCAR, here's a few of things that really curb my enthusiasm:
The Nationwide Series
In principle, having a lower racing league makes sense. After all, young baseball players cut their teeth in the minors, hockey has all sorts of junior leagues and the NBA D-league has provided Brian Butch and Joe Krabbenhoft the opportunity to continue playing hoops. The thing you won't find when the Sioux City Skyforce takes the court, though, is Kobe suiting up for the opposition.
Why do the biggest stars in the Sprint Cup get to race in the Nationwide Series? You end up with running orders that look exactly the same as the major ones. In the latest Nationwide race, on Feb. 26, the top four finishers were Kyle Busch, Carl Edwards, Kevin Harvick and Ryan Newman. I can almost guarantee you I wouldn't know the top four finishers in the next tournament on golf's Nationwide Tour, and I like golf a lot more than I like NASCAR. If Sprint Cup drivers don't get points for Nationwide races, and vice visa—after all, Trevor Bayne, that 20-year-old kid who won the Dayton 500 a couple weeks ago, isn't actually collecting Sprint Cup points this year—then why switch back and forth? I could see a system like in golf where amateurs and Nationwide guys play in some tournaments. That would give guys like Bayne a chance to do what he did, but to be always crossing over defeats the purpose of separate leagues.
The Race to the Chase
If I were willing to go as far as calling NASCAR a sport, I would say the Race to the Chase is the stupidest name in sports. I think it's supposed to lend some sort of excitement to the build-up for the final 10 races—when only 12 drivers are still alive to win a championship but everyone still races. It doesn't. Legends and Leaders sounds like marketing gold compared to the Race to the Chase.
Can't they just do it like they did circa 1999? There was no Race to the Chase; there was a much higher number of prodigious mustaches and mullets, the whole series was named after a big tobacco company, and the decals on the cars were way more awesome.
Because I looked on Wikipedia, I happen to know that Jeff Gordon and his Amazing Technicolor Dreamcar took home the Daytona 500 title that year. He won last week in Phoenix too, but his new rig looks more like Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and less like a coat that Donny Osmond might don while signing about dreams in the desert.
Overly Oval
NASCAR is far and away the most popular racing series in the United States, but all they do is go around in circles. I'm well aware of the bump-draftin' and three-wide racin' and the omnipresent threat of ‘the big wreck,' but seriously, would a couple more road courses hurt? There are only two road courses on the schedule this year, and only certain guys, including our man Osmond—I mean Gordon—have a realistic shot to win.
It's useless to try to list the ways Formula One is superior to NASCAR—a simple piece of paper that says ‘every way possible' would suffice—but amazing integration of cities, landscape and culture into the courses is one major sticking point. The first F1 race of the season got canceled because it was supposed to be in Bahrain, but there's too much violence in the Middle East. The closest to Middle Eastern violence NASCAR has 7/11 stick-ups and tobacco chew robberies in Tennessee and Kentucky.
In addition to all that, we get the overly dramatic announcers that treat the Pocono 500 like a four-hour Kentucky Derby and the Real World-style reality drama in pit lane every other week. It all seems forced and a little bit wack, but people still eat it up. Not me. I don't want it in my digestive system. Just like the Chicago rapper turned aspiring politician Rhymefest, I'm wacktose intolerant.
How do you feel about NASCAR? Think it could stand to change some things? E-mail Parker at pjgabriel@dailycardinal.com
