NASCAR: Tired of the Same Ol' Thing? Why Not Change It Up?

NASCAR has made a number of changes over recent years to try and “spice up” their product and make it more interesting to the fans. 

They instituted a “Chase for the Sprint Cup” to create a version of playoffs meant to keep the competition tight right up to the very end. 

They cracked down on driver emotions and rubbing to keep the focus on the racing.  Then they backed off and told the drivers to “have at it, boys” to try and reinstall the emotion of the sport.

The effects have been varied, but all in all, were they enough? 

Not in my book. 

I’ve been a NASCAR fan for nearly 20 years.  Honestly, that fandom is about to end.

I’ve got some thoughts on what could change my mind, though.

Let me lay out what’s wrong, then offer solutions to fix the problems.

Problem: The Season is too Long

It’s no secret that I’m a huge college football fan.  You want to know the best thing about college football?  The season is only 13 weeks long.

Okay, it’s roughly 18 weeks if you count the entirety of bowl season, but most people don’t pay much attention to the “lesser bowls.”  So really, it’s like taking a month-long break from the end of the regular season until the major bowls take place in January. 

From there, fans get a nice, long eight-month break to watch other sports, track recruiting, pontificate on the next season and build their excitement into a total frenzy. 

When the big day for kickoff finally does come around, it’s a frantic chase to the finish with no room for error.  One loss can derail an entire season.  There’s drama in every down, every call and every choice a coach makes.

I generally start out excited to watch the Daytona 500.  I faithfully watch as the action heads out to California and makes its way through places like Bristol, Martinsville and Talladega. 

However, by the time the action comes back around to Daytona in July, I’m getting burned out.  The chase is still several weeks away by that point and I don’t even care anymore. 

The NFL plays 17 weeks before it gets into its playoffs.  The NBA crams as many games as it can into roughly five months before its playoffs.  NASCAR drives 26 races over 28 weeks (over half a year) before its version of the playoffs.  Yawn…

Solution: Cut the Season in Half

Several tracks on the circuit get two NASCAR Sprint Cup races.  Why?  If I’ve seen them race at Daytona; I’ve seen them drive around Charlotte; and I’ve seen them bang fenders at the small tracks around Virginia; why do I want to see it again?

Here’s a simple plan.  Hit every track once, with the exceptions of Daytona and Bristol. 

That automatically cuts the season down tremendously.  Plus, it makes every track more important.  Teams only get one shot at conquering a track in any given season, and that’s it.  Blow it, and you’ll have to wait until next year (or the Chase) to get another shot at it.

For me, the less-than-die-hard fan, it makes the season more exciting and keeps me engaged as I wonder how my driver will do with one shot at a specific track.

Of course, I understand that it’s a money deal.  Tracks are expensive to own and maintain.  Running two races helps them bring in the kind of money needed to pay for their facilities. 

Leave that up to the track owners to figure out.  That shouldn’t be NASCAR’s problem to deal with. 

Problem: The Races are Too Long

A good friend of mine, Gary, is probably the most loyal fan I’ve ever met.  While I’m trying to discuss the merits of the pro-style offense vs. the spread, he’s interrupting with quips about Dale (Earnhardt) Jr. and how close he was to having a good run. 

The first question he asks every Monday morning was whether I saw so-and-so’s move in the race the day before.

Even Gary admitted on a number of occasions that he’d missed a good portion of the race.  He’d grabbed his favorite beverage, prepared a tray of snacks and settled into his recliner with his remote firmly in hand. 

For 50 laps or so, he was on the edge of his seat, shoving chips in his mouth and chasing them with ice-cold liquid. 

The next thing he knew, he was waking up to a warm, stale beverage, the snack tray was empty, the dog was covered in chip grease and Jimmie Johnson was giving his post-race interview. 

Here I was questioning my fan-hood because I’d had to fight a nap just to get through the third round of pit stops, praying I’d make it to the final 25 laps, when things would get really interesting again.  I guess I shouldn’t have worried so much about it.

The longest races are 500 miles and take a few hours to complete.  That’s not necessarily a bad thing, if the racing is intense the entire time.  The problem is, it isn’t.

From the drop of the green flag, the drivers aggressively jockey for position and test their equipment to see what they’ve got.

After that, things get really…boring.  They all fall into line and play follow-the-leader; just trying not to get into trouble before the grand finale.

I can appreciate the strategy behind every pit stop.  I enjoy the head games going on at the crew chief’s stand. 

But I like action along with my strategy.  There’s always a chance that someone will tag the wall or will misjudge the amount of room they have to make a pass. 

It’s fairly rare though, and there are often long stretches where virtually nothing happens on the track other than cars going around in circles.

Solution: Tournament–style

How about this for shaking up a nice afternoon of stock car racing? 

Start by limiting the total field to 40 cars instead of 43.  No more “start and park” teams.  If they can’t run their portion of the race, they don’t get to play.  They’re a waste of space and sponsor money anyway.

Take the top five in points (after the Daytona 500 which should never be touched) and pair them with the bottom five, which have to qualify to get in.  Run 100 miles for the top ten spots.  Points are awarded for all ten positions just the way they would be for a full race.

In segment two, take the middle ten drivers in points and have them do the same thing.  Again, only the top five move on.

Continue with the same formula through segments three and four pitting the five best against the five "worst" that haven't yet run.

For the final segment, you’re down to just 20 competitors who will battle it out over 100 miles for the trophy.  Points are awarded again, the same way they would be in a full race.

This does two things:

First, it doesn’t allow a lot of time for “playing it safe” and driving single file.  Teams have only 100 miles (which is plenty long enough) to figure out what they’ve got and make something of it. 

Fail to finish in the top five of your heat and you’re done for the day.  Thanks for playing. 

By the time the drivers have jockeyed for position and started to settle down, it would be time to get right back on the gas to protect their position or fight to get to the front before time runs out.

Second, it gives the smaller teams a fighting chance.  Instead of having to compete with the well-funded crews over 500 miles (where superior equipment can open a noticeable gap in the competition) they only have to gun it out for 100 miles, work on the car and do it again.

Along with that, the “bonus points” gained from making it into the final segment can help those teams that are traditionally on the bubble of making it into the top 35 of owners points, to bridge that gap and become more consistent competitors.

The exceptions to this would be the Daytona 500 and the road courses.  Daytona should never be messed with and the road courses are short enough and exciting enough that breaking them down into segments might actually hamper their appeal.

Problem: “The Jimmie Johnson Effect”

For years, I was a big No. 48 fan.  There was something intriguing about the soft-spoken, protégé of “the Boy Wonder.” 

His quiet, business-like approach to the race game was a welcome contrast to the fiery, often-whiny, drive-by-the-seat-of-your-pants style that was so prevalent in NASCAR at the time he came along.  He and Chad Knaus were the Icemen of stock car racing. 

Five consecutive Sprint Cup titles later, I’d like to see him meet the wall every race in 2011.  I’m tired of him.  I’m tired of his high-road, never controversial personality.  Mostly, I’m tired of him winning all the time….every time.

I don’t think I’m alone in this.  Back-to-back championships are celebrated.  Three-in-a-row championships are something even the best dynasties in sports fail to accomplish.  Anything beyond that gets old quickly.  Any sport needs fresh blood at the top every little bit or the fans lose interest.

Solution: All of the Above

Chad Knaus directs Johnson to championships by taking the scientific approach.  He carefully scrutinizes setup notes from each track and plays around a little early in the season to see what works best and what doesn’t.

He pays extra attention to the setups and cars on tracks that his team will see again during the Chase. 

The majority of the 48 team’s season is spent testing and doing just enough to make sure they make the Chase.  Then it’s game on. 

All of the research and all of the notes get compiled into near-perfect setups that give Johnson the best possible advantage for a championship.

Take away the notes.  By forcing the team to run each track only once, Knaus will have to rely on notes from the years before and hope that they’re still good. 

If they’re not, then things could get awfully hairy.  Can Knaus adjust on the fly?  Wouldn’t you like to find out?

NASCAR has been trying for a couple of years now to make the competition more exciting down the stretch.  They did that this year.  It was an incredibly tight finish.

However, Johnson still pulled it out in the end and left a lot of fans thinking “same stuff, different year.”

Force Johnson to consistently get into the final segment and earn his bonus points.  Give the rest of the field a fighting chance to keep pace with him.  The points are bound to be tighter come Chase time. 

Maybe some of those teams that are struggling just to put a car on the field can actually start competing for victories and championships.

There's a reason the All-Star Race is one of the most viewed events on the NASCAR circuit.  It's exciting and keeps fans' attention throughout the entire event.  Why not emulate that during the entire season?

And for crying out loud, quit trying to compete with MLB for having the longest season of all sports.  It’s hard for this generation, with our short attention spans, to care for that long.

Do these things and I can guarantee you that I’ll tune in every weekend with bells and whistles.  Heck, I might even stay awake through the whole show.