Chapter One - The Case of Team Extreme's Stolen Racecar

“Don't forget Frank, any driver you get your picture taken with, I want my picture taken with him too!” Blond, seventeen year-old Joe Hardy grinned. He was dressed head to toe in the colors of his favorite NASCAR driver as he and his older brother were going to watch the stock car drivers race at Watkins Glen International, just a few hours away from their home in Bayport. 

Their father, former New York City detective Fenton Hardy, owned a vacation home on Lake Seneca, a few miles from the track and whenever the loud, colorful racecars were in town the boys never missed an opportunity to go watch.

“I'll be happy to take whatever picture you want, Joe. But I want us both to get our picture taken with Danica.” He was similarly attired, wearing a bright green ballcap with a large number 10 on the front. 

They had just made the turn onto the highway that leads into the small town of Watkins Glen when a black dually pickup truck with a white trailer came into view. It looked like the truck was moving at a high rate of speed, and the driver was swerving back and forth between lanes. As the truck approached, it crossed the double yellow line and headed straight for the Hardys' car!

“Frank, watch out!”

Joe reached over from the passenger seat and grabbed the wheel, turning it sharply to the right, sending their car into the ditch on the side of the road with a loud thud. 

They looked behind them and saw the tail of the white trailer disappear around a bend in the road. The driver, whoever it was, was obviously in a hurry and was not at all concerned about the condition of the Hardy boys.

“Let's go after him,” Frank said, not realizing their car was stuck in the soft ground in the ditch.

“I'm afraid that's not possible. The car's sunk up to its axles in mud. We're going to need someone to help us out of here if we're going to get to the lake house before tomorrow.”

Joe took out his cellphone. He dialed up Chet Morton, the boys' best friend. Chet was also on his way to the lake house for the weekend, but was about ten minutes behind. Chet, a rotund boy who played center for Bayport's football team, would be just what was needed to give them a push out of their predicament.

“Chet, when you turn onto the highway into town you'll see us on the side of the road. We'll need some help out of the ditch. We had a little incident with an out of control pickup truck,” Joe said. Chet responded he would be there as soon as he could, and Joe returned his phone to his pocket.

“I wish we knew why that guy was in such a hurry,” Frank said. “It's almost as if he purposely tried to force us off the road.”

Within minutes, Chet arrived in his old yellow jalopy. 

“I don't know how you can still drive that old thing,” Frank laughed as his rotund friend walked over to their distressed car. The boys loved Chet, and had been best friends with him since the second grade, but never missed an opportunity to tease him.

“Keep laughing and you'll be walking to the lake house,” Chet said. “I have some great steaks in the trunk and I am hungry enough to eat all of them without you!”

Joe climbed into the car to steer while Frank and Chet pushed the stricken car back onto the road. Once out of the ditch, Frank climbed back in and the boys all drove in tandem to the Hardy family's lake house without any further incident.

Once there, they grilled Chet's steaks and enjoyed some time on the dock fishing. Just as Joe reeled in a smallmouth bass, the boys heard a car traveling down their driveway at a high rate of speed.

“Now what?” Frank wondered.

They heard a car door shut and moments later a portly man stumbled down the stone steps from the house down to the lake. He was breathing heavily, obviously out of breath. 

“Can we help you?” Joe asked.

“Please tell me you are the world famous Hardy boys,” the man said, trying to catch his breath. “I have been to about ten houses on the lake and going up and down these stairways is killing me.”

Frank laughed. “Well stranger, you finally found us. But that only leaves us wondering why you're looking for us!”

“I need you for a detecting job. Let's go sit down so I can catch my breath and I will be glad to fill you in,” the man said.

After a couple of minutes at the dock, the man had recovered enough to walk back up to the house. It was about 200 yards, but very steeply uphill. Once back to the house, the boys offered the man a drink and brought him onto the porch to discuss what brought him to their lake house.

“My name is John Cohen. I am from New York. I was going through Bayport on the way up here when one of my associates called me and told me my racecar entered in this weekend's race had been stolen. I immediately went to the Bayport police to see what I could do. Chief Collig told me the best thing I could do was get Fenton Hardy on the case, but he is out of the country on a case. He said the next best thing would be to get in touch with Mr. Hardy's two sons, who have solved many mysteries on their own. He told me you two were both racing fans and would be up here for the weekend. I must have misplaced the address he gave me so it took me a while to track you down.”

Fenton Hardy was a crack detective on the New York City Police Force was now an internationally famous private investigator. His sons, star athletes at Bayport High School, often helped him on his cases and also solved many cases on their own.

Their first case was The Tower Treasure, and only recently they had many hair-raising adventures in the Showdown at Widow Creek. Now they were excited at the prospect of a new mystery.

They listened intently as Mr. Cohen explained the details of the case. They both felt tingles run down their spines when he said the missing racecar was taken from a hotel parking lot as it sat in a white trailer parked behind a black dually pickup.

“Good night!” Joe exclaimed. “We were run off the road earlier today by a black dually pickup towing a white trailer! The driver was driving like a maniac. I bet you that was the man who stole your racecar! It also explains why he purposely ran us off the road and into the ditch!”

“Boys, it's critical we get that racecar back as soon as possible,” Mr. Cohen said. “The race is coming up this weekend and without that car, my team will have to go out of business.” 

Just as Mr. Cohen was finishing his sentence, the room was filled with the deafening roar of an engine! It sounded just like a racing engine! 

“It came from up at the top of the driveway!” Frank yelled to Joe. They both leapt to their feet and sprinted out the front door of the lake house and towards the street.

NASCAR's flawed Green-White-Checkered rule needs to be fixed and here's how to do it

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.

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.

.

To my friend Steve...

Dear Steve:

I write this letter to hoping that we have many years - decades - of friendship ahead of us. I know you're fighting the fight of your life, and that it's tough - not only on you but your wife Karen and your son Bryson. I can't imagine the fortitude it takes to deal with what your family is dealing with right now. And I can't imagine the fortitude that your lovely wife and incredible son have to be there by your side. You are all exhibiting a strength and dignity that should set an example for everyone in all walks of life when facing difficult circumstances.

I have a confession to make. One that I am very ashamed of but one that through the wonders of social media and introspection on my own weaknesses I am proud to say it's something I was so very wrong about.

I wasn't always a Steve Byrnes fan.

There were times I would sit and watch and listen to you work, and you had too much fun. I thought you laughed too much. You obviously didn't take yourself too seriously. And I didn't like it.

I mean, you were on national TV! How could you not take yourself seriously? This is NASCAR man! It's serious stuff. We need facts! We need analysis! What's with all the corny jokes and laughter in the booth?

But through this wonderful thing called Twitter, I realized why you goofed off and had fun when you were broadcasting races. It's because, as I said above, you didn't take yourself seriously. Because racing is supposed to be fun. And you were having fun!!

There was a time when I was on the outside looking in. And I was envious of those who were doing everything I wanted to do. I wanted to be talking. I wanted to be laughing. I wanted to be making others laugh. I wanted my voice to be heard. I mean, I had important things to say and no one to say them to! I was jealous, pure and simple. And jealousy is a very ugly thing.

But then Twitter came around. I'd see what you posted. I'd see how you interacted with people. And oh by the way, you interacted with a smart-ass cone from time to time too. Eventually I saw that it wasn't "buffoonery". It was you being you. And you taught me that none of us should take ourselves so seriously that we can't laugh at ourselves.

Racing is not rocket science. It's not brain surgery. It's supposed to be fun. It's supposed to take us away from the stresses of real life. It's a buncha good ol' boys driving around in circles at a high rate of speed. And it's supposed to be fun! I came to the realization that you're one of the people who have made it fun.

There are some people in NASCAR right now this very moment that, at least to me, don't look to be having a lot of fun. Sure, there is a lot of pressure involved. But when the pressure is off, people need to step back and smile. No, they need to step back and laugh! No one, I repeat NO ONE, should go through life not being able to laugh - even at themselves - and enjoy their surroundings. That's what you have taught me. I am ashamed that it took me a while to get to that point, but I am so happy that it was you that made me see it.

I love that we've had the chance to talk, not only via Twitter but the several times we've crossed paths this year. I could talk racing with you for whatever amount of time you'd give me, especially those old Busch Series drivers and cars from the glory days of the 1980s. Most of that history you brought to me when I was a much younger cone when I'd anxiously tune to TNN to watch "Inside Winston Cup Racing". Your voice is synonymous with NASCAR for millions of us, and we're all hoping it's back again when you kick cancer's ass.

I don't like speaking for others, but I think it's safe to say when I say I speak for the entire NASCAR community - it's drivers, teams, sponsors, officials and fans - when I tell you that we love you. We think about you every day, and we're here for you. Stay strong, and keep fighting. And please, let us know if there's anything we can do for you, Karen and Bryson.

You friend,

The Orange Cone

It's close to Halloween - let the witch hunt begin! Tony Stewart and the mainstream media

We're halfway through the month of October, so you know what that means right? Lots of little ghosts and goblins and witches and zombies running through the neighborhood, and many children drifting off into a diabetic coma after ingesting too many Skittles, M&Ms and Starburst.

But since we're so close to Halloween, why not continue the tradition started in Salem, Mass. back in the 1600s? Let's go on an old-fashioned witch hunt with the mainstream media! The target? That should be obvious! None other than three-time NASCAR Sprint Cup champion Tony Stewart.

No wait.

According to the mainstream media, it's not "three-time NASCAR champion Tony Stewart." It's "Tony Stewart, who back in August struck and killed Kevin Ward at Canandaigua Speedway in New York State."

Never mind that a thorough investigation found ZERO criminal liability. Nope, none of that matters.

What does matter is there are plenty of video clips of Stewart losing his temper, and on Saturday night they added another one when he backed his car into Brad Keselowski after contact at the entrance of pit road following the race. Those video clips lead to the opportunity to sensationalize! Why let the facts get in the way of a good story, right?

We've seen Good Morning America and now ABC World News Tonight both present abysmally poor reports on the so-called "NASCAR Brawl" following the Bank of America 500 at Charlotte Motor Speedway. Both reports made it seem like Stewart backed into Keselowski with the intent to do physical harm, which, after all wouldn't be a surprise because hey look at this video of Kevin Ward running down the track after Tony crashed him!

Yes, the incident on pit road and the following rumble in the garage isn't quite the image NASCAR wants to present to sponsors. But you know what? It's exactly that image that NASCAR fans crave.

Emotions! Anger at your follow competitors. The frustration of being on the brink of Chase elimination. It all boiled over and the result was great theater for those of us watching at the track and at home. By the way, none of that anger and frustration involved Tony Stewart until the drivers feeling those emotions involved him in their fracas. Then and only then did Tony deliver his message.

And that message was as minor as it could possibly be.

So Tony rumpled Brad's fenders. Big deal. How is that worse than throwing a brushback pitch at a batter's head? Or an illegal chop block aimed at injuring a football player? Or an enforcer dropping a shoulder and breaking a hockey player's ribs? Here's the answer: it's not worse. In fact, it doesn't even rate. Very simply, it's not news.

And while we're at it, let's put an end to the "well, Tony should have known better after all he's been through" crap that's floating around out there. Tony did nothing wrong at Canandaigua, and his participation in the incident at Charlotte was tangential at best. As soon as he starts thinking that way, he's done as a competitive racecar driver.

The story isn't so much that Tony "lost his temper and backed into another driver's car". No. The story is, finally, "Tony Stewart is back."

It's a real shame some major mainstream news agencies chose not to report it that way.

An Open Letter to the Ward Family

I know it's been a difficult six weeks since the accident that claimed your son, nephew, and friend Kevin Ward, Jr. It has been for all of us because the sport of auto racing – more than any other – is a fraternity and a family. We have all grieved for you, worried about you, and many of us have prayed for you.

We care. We really and truly do. We wish more than anything that we could turn back the hands of time to August 9 and have a re-do. But that cannot happen.

The district attorney and the local police have come to a just conclusion. No criminal behavior occurred to cause the accident that took Kevin's life. I will say it again. Tony Stewart is not a criminal. He did not kill Kevin Ward, Jr.

So what are your next steps?

Grieve privately. When you do speak publicly, share positive stories of the young man we all lost too soon. Do not make excuses. Do not cast blame. This story should not be fought in the court of public opinion. It has been, and right now you're not doing well. In fact, the positive memories you want everyone to have of Kevin are being tarnished by your attacks on Tony, a person who a thorough investigation found did nothing wrong but still found himself at the wrong place at the wrong time and whose life is now irrevocably altered. 

From all accounts, Kevin was a good kid. It doesn't matter to me that he smoked marijuana. That's his choice and I don't believe smoking pot necessarily makes one a bad person. You're 100-percent correct; it is legal in some states and it may be legal in more in the very near future. But it's not legal in New York, where this accident happened, and it will never be legal to smoke up while operating a motor vehicle. And it certainly should never happen before operating a racecar. He made a bad choice in smoking it and driving a racecar. Even if he smoked it “three months earlier,” he was driving a racecar three months earlier and again, that's just not a wise decision. We will never know what role, if any, marijuana played in Kevin's death. Life is like that sometimes, it leaves us with many unanswered questions.

Now comes the tough part: do not cast blame.

Tony Stewart drove the car that struck Kevin. That is undeniable. But this accident has been reviewed, reconstructed and dissected by professionals that know a lot more about motor vehicle crashes than we do. They found no criminal intent. Thousands of people have watched it online and saw the same thing. Tony simply did not see Kevin until it was too late. Why? There was a car in front of him. There is that huge wing on top that obscures vision. 

And, most critically, Kevin wasn't just standing still. No, he was actively moving into the path of a moving vehicle. Look where Kevin's car came to rest, and look where Tony's car was. That's not just a few feet. Kevin walked counter-course (against traffic) and came more than halfway down the banking. As for the speed, it's hard to say but Tony was certainly not at racing speed. He was going no slower nor no faster than the car in front of him or the car behind him. Maybe the field wasn't down to "pace car speed", but Tony was not still at race pace, not by a long shot.

Tony and Kevin raced cleanly into turn one that fateful night. Tony made a slide job for the position, a move that is made thousands of times a year all across the country. Once Tony cleared him, Kevin got into the loose stuff and crashed. Tony had no knowledge of this since there are no spotters to relay that information and there are no rearview mirrors in sprint cars. All he knew is the caution was out; he had no idea the kid he raced with into that turn had crashed and furthermore, he had no idea he was angry.

Tony had never spoken to Kevin. So why would Tony be angry with him? Why would he need to “intimidate” him? Why would he need to “deliver a message”? That answer is simple: he wouldn't. They had no relationship, no history. So there is no rational reason or explanation at all for that line of thinking

I feel your grief. Anyone who has lost a loved one before their time knows what you're going through on some level. You're sad. You're angry. You want answers. And you want accountability.

Unfortunately, life simply doesn't work out that way. The only person accountable for what happened to Kevin Ward, Jr is no longer here to explain what happened. He made a series of bad decisions in a short period of time, and the end result is he is no longer here with us. 

That breaks my heart.

Again, none of this takes away from the person Kevin Ward, Jr. was. It shouldn't tarnish his memory. I didn't know him, but I wish I did. He sounds like a great kid who was a lot of fun, and we are all the poorer for losing him.