Brian France leads a new NASCAR, much changed from the era that his grandfather governed, which produced superspeedway tracks like Talladega. Photo by Harold Hinson
NASCAR is hurtling at warp speed into not just a fresh new season, but a whole new era. Starting in 2004, the sport will fly a new Nextel banner over its premier series, with an untested third-generation France (41-year-old Brian) at its helm. This will not be your father's NASCAR.
Big tobacco, which funded the sport for three decades, is out, replaced by a modern communications giant. Darlington's traditional Labor Day Southern 500 has been shipped off to California as part of a controversial "realignment."
The sport faces numerous thorny issues which include expansion, safety, cost containment, diversity, and driver deportment.
Iron-fisted NASCAR founder Big Bill France started it, his son Bill Jr. guided it to dizzying heights, and now the future has been placed in the hands of a fresh-faced young heir to the dynasty. Brian has some big genes to fill. He assumes command of the sport at a time of both exhilarating promise and contentious challenges. The top items on Brian France's things-to-deal-with list
Bad Boy Behavior
Most stock car drivers have never been mistaken for choir boys-they descended from daredevil moonshine runners playing tag with John Law down Tobacco Road-but that was then and this is now. And now is different.
The buzz word in the sport in recent years has been image, and the image of a driver punching a rival in the nose or trashing his car makes corporate-conscious NASCAR nervous. Tony Stewart won the 2002 championship while on NASCAR probation, also having been disciplined and fined by his sponsor, Home Depot, for repeated boorish behavior. Making NASCAR's low-lights film in 2003 was Jimmy Spencer's smack down of Kurt Bush (prompted in part by Bush's ill-advised boast that he tried to intentionally smash Mr. Excitement's fenders during a heated battle.) That incident was followed by a similarly unseemly Donnybrook in which Kevin Harvick and his pit crew did a profanity-laced River Dance on the car of Ricky Rudd.
Kevin Harvick was the poster boy for unmanaged behavior in 2003 with his tirade at Ricky Rudd following the fall Richmond race. NASCAR suspension and fines are a joke. Subtracting driver/owner points will alter on-track behavior. Photo by Harold Hinson
The sport that strove for decades to shed its tawdry redneck stereotype, that tirelessly promoted itself as mainstream and family oriented, cringed amid the ruckus. Retired champion turned TV commentator Darrell Waltrip warns that NASCAR cannot tolerate such antics. "It will eventually turn people off," Waltrip says. "I realize that this is a very emotional sport, and we don't want to drain the passion out of it. But some of the stuff we've been witnessing is way over the line. NASCAR better put its foot down and get control of these guys before it gets totally out of hand. NASCAR keeps handing out fines and probations, but fines and probations aren't getting the message across."
Richard Petty was moved to opine about Stewart's behavior in 2002: "If drivers in the past had acted like that, he [Stewart] wouldn't be a Winston Cup champion, 'cause there wouldn't be no Winston Cup series." NASCAR executive Jim Hunter declared that further "bench clearing" brawls would not be tolerated, but as Waltrip noted, there has been little bite in NASCAR's past barks. NASCAR best heed Waltrip's warning. A driver will eventually recover from a black eye; the sport's image may not.
Growing Pains
Like controlling the passions of its drivers, growth is another area in which NASCAR must strike a delicate balance. Venturing into new markets is one thing; yanking out its roots and abandoning its faithful fan base is another.
Case in point, in 2004, NASCAR will shift Darlington's traditional Labor Day Southern 500 to Southern California. Granted, Darlington will get a replacement race, but late in the season. Meanwhile, Rockingham, another long-time NASCAR track, will lose a race.
"I realize that it's a business decision, but I hate to see it," says veteran driver Sterling Marlin. "I started going to Darlington on Labor Day as a kid back when daddy [Coo Coo Marlin] was racing. That weekend has always been special to our sport. It ain't gonna be the same without it." What began as a backwoods diversion-souped-up "licker (liquor-running) cars" racing in cow pastures-has gone big city. NASCAR combed its hair, shined its shoes, and headed off toward the bright lights of Las Vegas, Kansas City, Miami, and Chicago.
Television, flexing the muscle of its $2.4 billion deal, encourages NASCAR's expansion into such mega-viewer markets, and corporate sponsors likewise salivate over the mass urban exposure. NASCAR's boom has created a demand for more races and caused serious infighting that threatens to rip the fabric of the sport. Bruton Smith, second only to the France family in terms of power and pocketbook, contends that he was promised a second race when he was building his mammoth new track in Texas and that NASCAR later reneged. NASCAR denies that a second date was promised. The upshot of the squabble could be an antitrust suit challenging NASCAR's control of the sport. If such a suit were successful, NASCAR-as it has been known since 1949-would be no more.