You hear it all the time.
“Winning isn’t everything, it’s how you play the game”.
Ironically, it could be argued
that is how big time racing is currently run, to some extent, but certainly not for the altruistic reasons that the old saying
suggests…
Back in what many call the
“golden era” of racing, the fifties and sixties, winning WAS everything. Racecars were referred to as “late
models” because the chassis and body were just that—based on a recently manufactured car, usually a 55, 56, or
57 Chevrolet or later, a 64-67 Chevelle. The racers were hard men, and many disagreements involved no discussion at all—verbally,
that is.
And championships, well, in
a lot of cases they simply did not mean a whole lot. This was due to incredibly small championship winnings. Furthermore,
the fast guys followed the money, and would race at different tracks, in different states if necessary, to pay the bills and
buy that next big-block Chevy motor.
In weekly events, the fast
cars with the fast guys often took chances, sometimes serious chances that involved a front clip or a ride in the 68 Cadillac
ambulance to the local hospital, but there was always a guy or two with a tenth place car that would be there week after week,
and sometimes would outlast the competition and pick up a conservative win. That tenth place runner would often become the
“track champion”.
Great, but that simply did
not get the crowd on the edge of its seat, and justifiably so.
Even Richard Petty said that
he wasn’t really aware of how the statistics were adding up at the time—it was all about getting to, and winning,
the next race.
The racers came to race, and
win and the fans came to watch a race, and pull for their favorite, to win. The mainstream media largely ignored most events,
and the racing media was all about what was happening coming out of turn three, not about the soap opera of a chase, or revolving
team members, or even what the police thought of the drivers impromptu rental-car demo derby on the public highways the night
before.
This might sound improbable,
but to understand it tune in the “Motor Racing Network” NASCAR radio broadcast on any given weekend. Fast, blow
by blow reporting that simply relays the excitement of the race, rather than creating drama to grind into the ground on a
weekly basis—that is how it was, and just maybe, how it can be again.
Still, it is now that very
soap opera drama that generates the most reader feedback—good and bad, today. What the heck happened?
An infusion of Big money, primarily
in the form of Championship Dollars from RJ Reynolds tobacco, is what happened. Trailers became haulers, t-shirts became matching
uniforms, and the sport began to compete with other “team” sports at a national level.
Baseball, football, etc, do
not have a single winner on a weekly basis. They have a team that is a winner. Obviously, all the teams cannot play at once,
so by default they have to have playoffs of some sort to determine the ultimate “winner”. The above is alien thinking
to hardcore race fans, but then, the sport has grown far, far beyond the hardcore race fan. The new fan drives a car and has
been wooed away from the other more mundane sports, but they are used to a championship, and so a championship is what they
get.
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This produced racers running
smart for a top ten finish instead of the win. “Winning isn’t everything, it’s how you play the game”
took on new meaning. In fact, it has been, and still is, statistically possible to win the championship without winning a
race, besting others that did win races, but also had problems along the way, ironically perhaps while trying to actually
win a race.
All of which has created a
rather imposing problem… Football championships are usually exciting, and usually come down to the last game. NASCAR
championships can be as exciting, but on the other hand, someone like Matt Kenseth can run away with the thing for the last
third of the season (and, hey, more power to him for taking advantage of the rules that were current at that time).
And NASCAR just can no longer
have that. The stakes are so high regarding the big money sponsoring the series and the TV deal that an exciting finish is
required every week and at the end of the year.
And so the Chase was born.
For all practical purposes it is a chess match to make the final ten rounds, and then the clock is reset. In defense of Brian
France’s brainchild, the season is a LOT less boring, and Teams vying for spots one thru about 15 know they have a realistic
shot at the championship, as opposed to simply the top three or so. And yet, again, ironically, the last two races have been
a lesson in driving carefully—points racing. When the rules create a conservative night at Bristol, the rules need
to be questioned, and fortunately NASCAR is doing just that.
Actually, it is relatively
simple fix. Winners of a certain number of events (Brian gets to pick the number, one, two, maybe three?) would automatically
make the cut. Additionally, heavily weight wins during the last ten events. A win could approximately offset a DNF, for instance.
Have the Chasers only compete with each other. Equally, if not more important, is a simultaneous mindset change by the sanctioning
body regarding the importance of winning each individual race.
Instead of hearing “Yes,
Wally, it is important that Michael gets back out there with no front sheet metal 28 laps down, to try to get those valuable
Nextel Cup points” the story would be “And you can see that Michael is carrying the car in the outside groove,
this may be his last shot at making the Chase”.
It is a winning deal all the
way around. On track racing becomes more short-track-like every week. The tracks become more important, the winners are more
important, everyone on the track is racing for the win every week (which is why they started racing in the early 1900’s,
after all). Furthermore, racing gains on other sports due to the non-stop action, ending with the ultimate win in the final
event of the year.
All that said, there IS another
meaning to “Winning isn’t everything, it is how you play the game”, and one that should not be forgotten. On
the track and off, life is a learning process, and winning IS truly in how you play the game, and the process of growing toward
our inevitable destination. Mark Martin is a champion’s champion in anyone’s book. On the other hand, if winning
a championship compromises the obviously good heart of Carl Edwards (and I do not believe that it will), what has he truly
gained?
Winning in life, by no means
has to infer that you necessarily need to compromise who you are, or who you want to become, to be the best at what you choose
to do. From Kenny Schrader to Hermie Sadler, each of us knows true winners that we respect on the track and in our lives,
and those winners are not necessarily the most financially successful, but in the end, are headed for the ultimate good finish
in the ultimate race that we all are running. Additionally, these individuals often are more interested in being a positive
influence by example than simply in personal gain.
Every day is a new green
flag in “The Chase” of life... Ladies and Gentlemen, start your engines, and earn those valuable Lifetime Points
wisely-- Race hard, but keep your eye on what it takes to win.