The ending of yesterday's Daytona 500 was the perfect ending to a wild weekend of racing at the World Center of Speed. The race - which was remarkably clean after a week of destruction and off-track controversy - ended under caution a mile short of the finish line due to a crash on the backstretch and has left NASCAR Nation embroiled in debate.
Let me be clear about this right up front: the caution flag was the right thing to do. Kyle Larson did indeed make significant contact with the inside wall. Safety crews needed to be dispatched. So the the caution was the right call in that moment.
But that caution also brought the race to a premature end. That's right, a race run with a green-white-checkered rule to ensure a green flag finish ended under the caution.
How can that be?
NASCAR's rules state that once the white flag is thrown, should the caution come out at any time, the field is frozen and the race is over.
So the race could end inches past the start-finish line on the last lap, as it did in the 2005 Truck race at Daytona. Or it could end somewhere down the backstretch, as it did yesterday. Or it could end off of turn four, as it did last year when Dale Earnhardt won. The fact is no one knows when a race might end, especially at a restrictor plate track.
And in a sport that prides itself on being fair and offering a level playing field, that is remarkably UNFAIR. And not only that, it leaves your fans - those that have invested thousands of dollars to be there and those that have invested hours of their time to watch at home - with an empty feeling at the end.
It has been said repeatedly over the past 24 hours that calling that last lap caution and ending a race prematurely is the toughest call in NASCAR to make. "No one wants to see a race end under the caution," is what NASCAR Chairman and CEO Brian France said to Jim Noble and Chocolate Myers on Sirius XM NASCAR Radio today. Okay, so let's fix it. Let's take the "do we or don't we" debate out of it. Let's make it a cut-and-dried scenario.
The easiest solution for this is the way the rule should have been written from Day One. If the caution comes out on the last lap, the field is frozen, the pace car is sent out, and they line up for another attempt at a green-white-checkered. That way there is never a debate of whether to throw a caution on the last lap. That way we can get safety crews out to drivers that need attention. That way we don't have to wait hours to get official results as we review scoring loop data and video and photo evidence to try to give our best guess on where everyone was when the caution came out. And that way we as an industry deliver what we have told fans we will give them: a race that finishes under the green flag. And we line them up and do that green white checkered as many times as it takes to get the field under the checkered under the green.
As Jeff Gordon pointed out on Twitter, that could present some issues for teams, particularly when fuel is an issue at the end. The simple answer to that is "that's racing."
It's understandable that people might think you would go through a never-ending cycle of green-white-checkered attempts because aggressive drivers will do whatever it takes to win and that would result in crash after crash after crash. Many point to the Truck Series race at Gateway in 2004 as their evidence since that race had a record four attempts at the GWC before the finish.
But what is overlooked is that it was an amazing race with a last corner of the last lap pass for the win that left the fans buzzing afterward.
Others will say "well, if you have unlimited green-white-checkereds it will look like an ARCA race!" You mean the ARCA series that has unlimited GWC attempts and has never gone more than three attempts to get to the checkered? If the lowly ARCA series can get it done in three or less attempts, surely the greatest stock car drivers in the world can do it too.
If we are going to allow races to end under the caution, then let's do away with the GWC rule and end races at the advertised distance, as suggested by Kyle Petty. I have no problem with that either. We did it for 50+ years and no one ever debated the legitimacy of a winner that took the checkered under the caution. But once we started red flagging races late to preserve a green flag finish, it became obvious a GWC rule was going to be necessary.
Dave Moody said on his program on Sirius XM NASCAR Radio this afternoon "No one wants to see a race end under the yellow. If you asked us all, 100% of us want to see every race end under the green flag." Okay, so let's work to that solution. The problem isn't throwing the caution on the last lap, it's what happens when the caution flag is thrown. So let's do what we say we are going to do and give the fans in the stands and those watching at home a green flag finish.
NASCAR proved it can make quick corrections when, along with Daytona International Speedway, they worked to put energy-absorbing barriers where Kyle Busch had his horrendous crash on Saturday. They should work equally fast to fix what has been a flawed green-white-checkered rule from the very day it was implemented.
Monday, February 23, 2015
Wednesday, February 18, 2015
Dear Dale...
Dear Dale:
It's been 14 years since you left us. For many - most - of us, there hasn't been a day that's gone by that we haven't thought about you.
Most of the time it was a fond memory, like the 1998 Daytona 500 or when you and Kenny Wallace drafted to the front at Talladega and you stole your last career win. Sometimes we think about you doing something only you could do, like when you got out of your car and cleaned your windshield while you were still driving down the frontstretch at Richmond. Sometimes we think of all those times you defied the odds, like at Pocono in 1982, and we wish you could have just one more time.
There are also the times we think about all the things you did that pissed everyone off. Richmond in 1986. Bristol in the spring of 1987. The Winston in 1987. But with the benefit of time, those events - which all seemed so callous at the time - leave us with a smile.
You might not recognize things if you showed up to the NASCAR garage today. The cars have changed. The faces, for the most part, have changed. Even your namesake, the man who has carried the Earnhardt name into popular culture in ways that even you couldn't, looks different. He's done an admirable job of carrying on your name and he's won some really big races in your absence. He's built a huge following. He's not the Intimidator, and while some people wish he was, it's been good for him that he's been able to be his own man and build a legacy of his own.
Your team, a great source of pride for you in the later years of your life, is gone. We once thought Dale Earnhardt, Inc. was going to be your legacy after you left us, but unfortunately that was not meant to be.
Jimmie Johnson has given you a run for your money. He won five championships in a row, something even you never did. He's got a total of six, and just one more puts him in your company. That's something we never thought we'd see again once you left us. Maybe someday he'll match that number. Maybe he'll even beat it. I kinda hope he does. He's a great man, and I have no doubt in my mind that you'd like him.
Even if that record is matched or beat, it will never, ever change the legacy of Dale Earnhardt. Records, as they say, are meant to be broken. They are, after all, just a number on paper.
In all reality, your legacy is much, much bigger than that.
Since you left us, we as an industry decided enough was enough. We re-engineered the cars. We made some those safety devices - some of which you eschewed - mandatory. We came up with new safety devices. We made the racetracks safer. We made the seats safer.
Those safety enhancements were a wake-up call to our entire industry. But even that isn't your legacy. Again, it's even bigger than that.
Your legacy is the dozens of drivers - maybe even hundreds, or even thousands - of drivers in every level of the sport around the world that are still here because of those mandated safety enhancements.
Some of the crashes we've seen since February 18, 2001 have been frightening. Some of them have been on the sport's biggest stage in front of millions. Some of them have been on dusty dirt tracks carved out of Midwestern corn fields in front of a couple hundred people. But there is no question that injuries have been prevented and lives have been saved.
We haven't stopped ever chance of a fatal injury in motorsports, not by a long shot. We have lost drivers since that fateful day. But not in NASCAR. And that is a direct result of you. A lot of people like to compare NASCAR to a big ocean liner: it's hard to turn on a dime. But the day we lost you, that ocean liner indeed turned on a dime. It was a wake up call that, despite losing four other drivers in the year leading up to your accident - Adam Petty, Kenny Irwin, Tony Roper and Blaise Alexander - we sorely needed. It's just a shame that it took losing any one of you to wake us up to those inherent flaws.
We miss you, Dale. We miss that grin. We miss those magic moments. We miss seeing you put you arm around your kids and seeing the pride on your face. We didn't ever think we'd lose you. But unfortunately we cannot turn back the hands of time. Thankfully, though, there are many, many more drivers still with us as a result.
Race in peace, my friend.
.
It's been 14 years since you left us. For many - most - of us, there hasn't been a day that's gone by that we haven't thought about you.
Most of the time it was a fond memory, like the 1998 Daytona 500 or when you and Kenny Wallace drafted to the front at Talladega and you stole your last career win. Sometimes we think about you doing something only you could do, like when you got out of your car and cleaned your windshield while you were still driving down the frontstretch at Richmond. Sometimes we think of all those times you defied the odds, like at Pocono in 1982, and we wish you could have just one more time.
There are also the times we think about all the things you did that pissed everyone off. Richmond in 1986. Bristol in the spring of 1987. The Winston in 1987. But with the benefit of time, those events - which all seemed so callous at the time - leave us with a smile.
You might not recognize things if you showed up to the NASCAR garage today. The cars have changed. The faces, for the most part, have changed. Even your namesake, the man who has carried the Earnhardt name into popular culture in ways that even you couldn't, looks different. He's done an admirable job of carrying on your name and he's won some really big races in your absence. He's built a huge following. He's not the Intimidator, and while some people wish he was, it's been good for him that he's been able to be his own man and build a legacy of his own.
Your team, a great source of pride for you in the later years of your life, is gone. We once thought Dale Earnhardt, Inc. was going to be your legacy after you left us, but unfortunately that was not meant to be.
Jimmie Johnson has given you a run for your money. He won five championships in a row, something even you never did. He's got a total of six, and just one more puts him in your company. That's something we never thought we'd see again once you left us. Maybe someday he'll match that number. Maybe he'll even beat it. I kinda hope he does. He's a great man, and I have no doubt in my mind that you'd like him.
Even if that record is matched or beat, it will never, ever change the legacy of Dale Earnhardt. Records, as they say, are meant to be broken. They are, after all, just a number on paper.
In all reality, your legacy is much, much bigger than that.
Since you left us, we as an industry decided enough was enough. We re-engineered the cars. We made some those safety devices - some of which you eschewed - mandatory. We came up with new safety devices. We made the racetracks safer. We made the seats safer.
Those safety enhancements were a wake-up call to our entire industry. But even that isn't your legacy. Again, it's even bigger than that.
Your legacy is the dozens of drivers - maybe even hundreds, or even thousands - of drivers in every level of the sport around the world that are still here because of those mandated safety enhancements.
Some of the crashes we've seen since February 18, 2001 have been frightening. Some of them have been on the sport's biggest stage in front of millions. Some of them have been on dusty dirt tracks carved out of Midwestern corn fields in front of a couple hundred people. But there is no question that injuries have been prevented and lives have been saved.
We haven't stopped ever chance of a fatal injury in motorsports, not by a long shot. We have lost drivers since that fateful day. But not in NASCAR. And that is a direct result of you. A lot of people like to compare NASCAR to a big ocean liner: it's hard to turn on a dime. But the day we lost you, that ocean liner indeed turned on a dime. It was a wake up call that, despite losing four other drivers in the year leading up to your accident - Adam Petty, Kenny Irwin, Tony Roper and Blaise Alexander - we sorely needed. It's just a shame that it took losing any one of you to wake us up to those inherent flaws.
We miss you, Dale. We miss that grin. We miss those magic moments. We miss seeing you put you arm around your kids and seeing the pride on your face. We didn't ever think we'd lose you. But unfortunately we cannot turn back the hands of time. Thankfully, though, there are many, many more drivers still with us as a result.
Race in peace, my friend.
.
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