Life in the Slow Lane

An historic event capped off another thrilling season of men driving rapidly in circles in cars that look similar to the ones we can buy save the Andy Warhol paint schemes. Jimmy Johnson, not to be confused with Junior Johnson, or Howard Johnson (the baseball player not the motel) for that matter; won his third consecutive Sprint, (the cellular phone company not the lesser race car circuit) Cup. It used to be called the Winston Cup until the suits (hard puffing race fans included) decided that smoking was bad for us and a cigarette brand was considered poor PR to be the primary sponsor of a sport that used countless amounts of the world’s most precious and valued resource. Also, the carbon monoxide from the exhaust fumes produced is sufficient enough to cause cancer in the hundreds of thousands of race fans attending each and every event anyway. Why make matters worse.
Jimmie Johnson’s accomplishment far outshines that of James Frank Kotera a.k.a. JFK, who recently surpassed Francis (not Frank) Johnson (no relation to any of the Johnson’s previously mentioned) after 30 years, for amassing the world’s largest ball of twine.
Ironically, it had been thirty years since Cale (with a “C” not with a “K” like the vegetable) Yarborough won his third straight NASCAR Championship. An eerie coincidence don’t you think? Sadly, either twine gatherer received neither the adulation nor financial reward Jimmie Johnson has garnered. And I know why, sponsorship!
Each NASCAR team has about $120 million in revenue. 75% of that comes from sponsorship. Primary sponsors contribute $20 million on the average. The primary sponsor gets to have their name festooned on the hood of the car they back. The primary sponsor also gets to plaster its name on the helmets and fire suits of the driver and the pit crew. And when the race is over, each individual can be counted upon to don a cap proclaiming their loyalty.
But don’t you fret none for the lowly secondary sponsor, who get to have their name on the rear quarter panel of the car. They only have to contribute about $10 million for the privilege. An agreement with the primary sponsor allows for the secondary sponsor to have the drivers and pit crews wear apparel bedecked with the little guys logo a couple of races every year. This does not go unnoticed by NASCAR, or the France family who run NASCAR, (you can readily substitute one name for the other). It’s similar to the NFL allowing teams to have multiple regulation jerseys. They’ll tell you it’s to liven things up a bit. But the No Fun League encourages the practice so fans will have another reason to buy more shit. Race fans, who already own tons of merchandise with the primary sponsor insignia, can run out and get the “limited edition” merchandise with the secondary sponsor’s logo on whatever it is that they buy, and they buy a lot.
According to Forbes, each team cleared about $12.3 million in profit last year. NASCAR showed a profit of over $3 billion. So in addition to television rights, the near 200,000 attending each event are buying a lot of stuff.
The South wanted a sport that was uniquely theirs, and Bill France Sr. gave it to them. I’m sure he did not envision the monolith that was to spring from that first race he organized along Daytona Beach in 1947. Hats off to Mr. France and everything NASCAR has accomplished. That’s some family business. I’m just not that into it. Before you cry out “sacrilege!” let me explain.
As a kid, I sat with my grandfather, (he was a Ford man) and watched stock car racing when it was aired on ABC’s Wide World of Sports. Each Memorial Day, or around Memorial Day when ratings became more important than tradition, I watched the Indianapolis 500. That is until the IRL, or Indy Racing League, and CART, or Championship Auto Racing Teams got into a pissing contest and the ill feeling diluted the sport and divided the drivers. I have attended stock car races at Nazareth Speedway in Pennsylvania, at Flemington Race track in New Jersey, and a Busch race at Homestead Speedway in Florida. The engine noise alone raises my testosterone level. I try every year to make it a point to watch the Daytona 500, the event that ranks only behind the Super Bowl in terms of monetary value. A happening so enthralling, that it’s on my list of things to do before I die; experience the Daytona 500 in person.
With that being said, I must say the idea of men making a perpetual series of left turns at high speed for hours is not something I want to devote my limited free time to each weekend. I’m already frittering away my valuable leisure time watching baseball, football, basketball, and golf. Hey, maybe I should give up watching some of those sports and…. start a ball of twine instead of following NASCAR. They both go round and round.