By the time I was 7 years old, thanks to Uncle Bobby, I knew what racing was like. I knew it was a "slam-bang" speed fest around a quarter-mile or half-mile dirt track with drivers taking whatever chances necessary to improve their position, even one position. Second fought for first, third for second and so on. There was no holding back and no riding around the track just to finish a race. Racing meant competing with other drivers and cars and giving your all to win. It was about winning, NOT about riding around on the track. Sunday afternoon drives were for two lane highways between pig farms, not riding around a race track.
Racing, when I was growing up, was all about winning. For most drivers it was all about being out front as much as possible, as much as their car would keep them there. Think back to 1970 at Talladega when Peter Goodwill Hamilton was driving the number 40 Plymouth for Petty Enterprises. Pete knew one way to drive, flat-out and going for the front. He was definitely at his best on the big tracks at Daytona and Talladega, but that was before restrictor plate racing. I remember that Sunday afternoon at 'Dega when Pete was out front, flying away from all competitors. As the laps dwindled to just a few, Maurice Petty was waving the blackboard (remember when communications between pits and driver were handled that way?) with huge letters informing Pete to take it "E Z". That was not for Pete. He continued to pull away, running faster it seemed each succeeding lap to win the race going away. As I recall, Maurice Petty was less than happy with his driver not obeying instructions until Pete took that checkered flag.
I have come to realize that I have a great deal of respect for each and every driver out there on a Saturday or Sunday, especially running these ridiculous restrictor plate tracks (do they still call them that with the EFI?). The tension of running that close together at better than 200 mph for three-hour or more has to be a huge burden for the drivers, not to mention the crews. Now, having to keep up with where you need to be to transfer to the next round of this absurd, ridiculous, ludicrous machination called "The Chase", is only another part of the equation to ruin what should be good racing.
Although NASCAR instituted a rule that every team must give 100% to competition, it is impossible for NASCAR to govern that. It is another fantasy in the mind of a sanctioning body that continues to operate clueless as to what they are doing. I read somewhere once where a cockroach can live for hours disconnected from its head. While admittedly a cockroach can't have a large brain, it appears NASCAR has, or is, adopting the strategy that it can continue to operate disconnected from its brain.
The point of this, I suppose, is the case of the three JGR cars at 'Dega Sunday, which went to the back before the green. Busch, Edwards, and Kenseth. There they stayed and there they rode, as if out between the fences of a pig farm, for the entire race. As Patrick Reynolds said on his Speedway Report last night, how would you like to have been a fan of any of those three drivers, having traveled long distances, paid high-ticket prices, paid $300.00 to camp or even more at a motel, to watch YOUR guy ride? That is not only a disgusting display to me but also an insult to the fans of those drivers and to the sport of stock car racing. Oh, throughout the history of the sport, there have been the "Strokers" who, in late season, protect their points lead to the end. In this case, if I'm not mistaken, all three of the drivers in question were high enough in points to move to the next round without having to result to a disservice and disgrace to their fans.
This "Chase" format, with which we appear to be stuck, destroys the concept of what real stock car racing is all about. The "must win" scenario is nothing more than a way to promote the absurdity of something we, as race fans, should not have to endure. So, NASCAR has whittled the field to the "round of eight". Do I care? Not really. I watch the race for the purpose of a race. I think I may resort to the Sunday afternoon rides through the country and there are still plenty of two lane roads running through pig farms to enjoy.
