If Your Race Team Seems To Have Lost Its Groove-Or Even If You've Never Found Victory Lane-The Road To Success May Not Be As Hopeless And Elusive As It Seems
writer: Jerry F. Boone
A lot of interaction between driver and crew takes place before a car hits the track. Courtesy photo
To: Dear Gabby
Advice Columnist
Stock Car Racing magazine
Dear Gabby,
I never thought I'd be writing to an advice columnist, but I don't know which way to turn.
When I began racing a few years ago, the time we spent at the track and in the shop was like quality time with my family, my crew chief and the rest of the team. At first we were like one big family. We had fun. We won some races. I was even the track's Street Stock Rookie of the Year in 2003.
Now that we are racing a Late Model, I almost hate to show up at the track, with all the problems, the arguing, and the wrench throwing. And we aren't winning. Lately I am lucky to even make it into the B-Main. We've fallen out of the groove and can't find our way back.
We've tried everything. New shocks. Different springs. We've thrown out the book and tried everything we can think of with suspension settings. Each week we walk up and down the rows of cars, trying to see what other drivers are doing and what we might be missing, but nothing seems to help.
The crew chief says I'm not driving hard enough. I probably could go faster, but the thing handles like a tuna boat in a high sea. And the team...everyone is so discouraged they barely show up to work on the car anymore.
I'm afraid we are a team in crisis. I don't know if our relationship has hit a plateau or if we need to seek serious counseling.
Can you help?
Sign me: Desperate Driver
When things really go right, as they did here for David Triplett, a celebratory lap is in store. Courtesy photo
Dear Desperate Driver, There are lots of names for whatever it is that transforms a group of men and women into a winning team. Some call it chemistry. Others describe it as magic. A few simply call it teamwork.
Jimmie Johnson and Chad Knaus have had it for years. So have Tony Stewart and Greg Zippadelli. There is perhaps no better example than the combination of Jeff Gordon and Ray Evernham, when those two were together and at the top of their game a decade ago.
But the chemistry can turn sour quickly and without explanation.
For example: In 2005, Greg Biffle and Doug Richert teamed up for six wins-more than anyone else that season-and finished the year in Second Place. But before the end of last season, Biffle and Richert were splitting up.
"We're still good friends," Biffle said after winning the final 2006 race, at Homestead, for his second victory of the year. "But we just never hit it off this season."
It is a problem that plagues teams from racing's top ranks to those running Bombers at the local dirt track. Relationships go stale. If you have the same people asking the same questions of one another every weekend, the answers come up the same almost every time. That works fine when the answers put a car in Victory Lane, but it can be a problem when a team that has become used to winning begins to struggle.
The higher a team rises on racing's food chain, the more pressure-internal or from sponsors-there is to perform. What began as a hobby in Bombers becomes a second career when a team steps into something like a Late Model division.
Mike Olsen's Little Trees Monte Carlo is a consistent front runner on ovals and road courses because he keeps the car simple and the team focused. Photo by Howie Hodge
The speed, technology, and expectations increase with each dollar spent. The frustration level goes up proportionately when a team falls short of its potential.
If you are a Jack Roush, you have the luxury of simply shuffling the deck and dealing everyone a new hand. But what if you are a short track racer whose team is made up of family and friends, and suddenly the mix of personalities goes septic?
"A situation like that is a lot rougher for amateurs than it is for someone who owns a couple [of] Nextel Cup teams," says Patrick J. Cohn, who founded RacePsych, a sports psychology practice in Orlando, Florida. "For someone like Roush, racing is a business and the owner can step back and make a business decision. If you are someone who owns, sponsors, and drives the car, it is a lot more difficult to make an impartial decision."
Cohn earned a Ph.D. from the University of Virginia in 1991 specializing in sports psychology. He has worked with individual drivers, riders, and teams, ranging from motocross riders to some of NASCAR's professional operations.
"Decisions that affect people are probably the toughest an amateur has to make," he says. "The common mentality is to bring in new people and shake things up, and sometimes just bringing in new talent can be enough change to do the job."
Cohn cautions that decisions on something like a small race team may have an impact on family and friends and can sometimes scar a relationship for life.
Olsen stands on pit road at New Hampshire International Speedway with his crew in the background preparing for the race. Photo by Glen Davis
"Owners and drivers, whoever is in a leadership position, probably are too quick to dismiss a crew chief or crew member and find someone else," he says.
Often, all the change does is add new people to an existing problem.
"The driver or team owner or crew chief has to step back and make an honest assessment of the team's leadership," he says. "That's tough to do for an amateur, who may actually be part of the problem.
"Many times a team's problems really boil down to communications. It is the key issue in any organization."
He adds that racing is fueled by strong emotions and big egos. "Those things can get in the way. The problem gets worse when a team is struggling and there is a high level of frustration."
That situation evolves into post-race assessments that center on finger pointing and trying to place blame, rather than solving basic problems.
"That's when a driver will say one thing, but the crew chief hears something else," Cohn says. "It boils down to an 'I'm right and you're wrong' exchange that just doesn't solve anything."
But it doesn't have to be that way, explains David Triplett, a successful short track racer from the Durham, North Carolina, area.
In spite of bad luck at many races, Jimmie Johnson and Chad Knaus never lost sight of their goal to win the 2006 Nextel Cup championship. The duo has been in the winning groove ever since they paired up. Photo by Jerry F. Boone
Triplett and his father have been racing together ever since he first strapped into a car. That means six seasons in karts, two in Allison Legacy Cars, and seven in NASCAR Late Models.
"Sure, we have conflicts," Triplett says. "There have been times Dad or I will make a decision about the car and it costs us a race. You just learn from your mistake, go back to where you began, and start over again."
Triplett is a serious amateur, with an Associate's degree in applied science in motorsports management technology from Rowan-Cabarrus Community College in Concord, North Carolina.
Last season, racing at Orange County Speedway, he had five poles, four wins, 12 Top 5s, and 15 Top 10s in 18 starts.
He also had three DNFs.
"It doesn't go right every night," he says. "I don't think anyone in racing-especially in the amateur ranks-can expect that."
Triplett says he and his dad often compromise on changes.
"There may be something he wants to try and something I want to try," he says. "We often talk about what it may do to the car and what we want it to do, and see which one is most likely to get us the change we want.
"And just because something doesn't work out doesn't mean it was a bad idea to try it," he says. "If we didn't try things, we'd never improve, and pretty soon we'd be behind everyone else."