Few of you need me to remind you that all of us are living in extraordinary times right now. By “extraordinary,” I don’t mean to imply this is a great time to be alive, though being alive right now still beats the alternative. Man, it’s summertime, AKA, “the sweet, sweet, summertime, summertime” of Bob Seger’s “Night Moves.”
I want to go to some races. (Sorry, no one allowed in the grandstands in these parts just yet.) I want to go see Springsteen and E Street Band, They’re not touring this summer, which is like Canadian geese deciding all things being equal they just won’t migrate this year. No Bruce, but Taylor Swift dropped a bombshell surprise Friday releasing a new album. Waiting on the Boss, got the brat instead. Yep, that pretty much sums up 2020 to date. The challenges we face right now call for vast reserves of both faith and patience, and perhaps a sense of humor to help smooth the remaining rough edges.
During “extraordinary times,” changes are nearly inevitable. Some changes are necessary and welcome. Others are ill-considered, annoying and pointless. Yep, I will dutifully wear my face mask during my bi-weekly, frenzied five-minute dash through the grocery store. No, I won’t wear it while driving solo in the Jeep.
One obvious change to weekend schedules once NASCAR came back from their COVID break has been the elimination of practice and qualifying for all three of the major touring series. (Though qualifying inexplicably did take place prior to the World 600.) Last week (July 21), NASCAR officially announced there will be no pre-race practice or qualifying for the remainder of the season in Cup, Xfinity or Trucks.
One of the tough issues to deal with mentally with the pandemic is no one can even make an intelligent guess as to how long it might last. Tell me that the crisis will last until Halloween and I’ll let out a long sigh, but put on my big boy boots and mentally brace myself for the mental rigors yet to come. But hearing NASCAR say the changes are in place the rest of the season is jarring. NASCAR typically races from Presidents’ Day weekend to the weekend before Thanksgiving anyway.
Yes, the the end of the season is less than four months away, but here in the Northeast things change radically between now and Halloween. The hours of daylight daily shorten dramatically. Temperatures change from tropical to polar. The vast vibrant green canopy of the woods outside my windows will turn russet, gold and brown. Likely before NBC signs off from their final Cup broadcast, my neck of the woods will see its first flurries or perhaps even an overnight dusting of snow sufficient to send local residents panicked by the precipitation enough to wreck their four-wheel-drive SUVs in hopelessly inept ways that defy explanation. Oh, and for the record, nobody is offering any assurances that the crises will be behind us by 2021. Will qualifying and practice return to the schedule next year? I don’t know. I’m not even sure NASCAR will return next year, and it would be presumptuous of me, or anyone else for that matter, to say I’ll definitely be around see 2021.
But I’ll go on record as saying in my mind qualifying and practice need to return this year if the 2020 championship battle (they hate it when I still call it the Chase) is to have even a modicum of legitimacy.
Let’s rewind here just a bit a look at how practice and qualifying came to fall by the wayside. In those early exploratory days when NASCAR was considering how and when to start holding races again, one of the key issues they were looking at was how to best limit the number of team employees on hand at the event as well as a greatly reduced number of NASCAR employees with which to host those races. I believe that thinking was that X% of cars that practiced or took qualifying laps would get wrecked. It would take more employees to attempt to piece them back together again. Given that many (most?) race shops were shut down as “non-essential,” some teams lacked the inventory of race cars to send a prepped primary and backup car to each event.
Over the ensuing weeks, most shops have reopened. Under the laws of building fast, loud cars, it takes X amount of hours to complete a project. Oh, you can try to rush things if you want … or if you dare … but it will likely come back to bite you. When you’ve got a roller ’71 El Camino with a newly rebuilt engine waiting on a stand beside it, you and a competent friend are going to need a full eight-hour day to return that little Elky to drivable condition for Friday night’s Cruise in Pottstown. Maybe a little less time. But then you cut a corner and neglect to install the radiator shroud. It would take some time to reverse the error. The cooling system would have to be drained again. So you take that shortcut. What’s the worst that could happen? As it turns out, the worst that could happen is you could hit a speed bump in the Eat It and Beat It parking lot, causing the upper radiator hose to make contact with the radiator fan, severing it in half and leaving you with a 10-mile hike on a surprisingly chilly early October evening down dark highways with limited overhead lighting. And no damned beer.
Naturally, NASCAR team members are far better mechanics than my well-intended buddies and I, but I bet some of them have put a radiator hose into a fan somewhere along the line.
Now with things slowly returning to normal, my guess is every team would be able to provide a competitive primary car and a decent backup for every event. Remember, under the laws of building fast, loud cars, it’s going to take as much or more time to repair a primary car wrecked in the course of the race itself as to repair a car damaged to a similar extent in a practice crash. It’ll just be a little easier to maintain proper social distancing back at the shop than in the garage area. (More fast, loud car rules.)
- A) Perfection takes time. How soon do you need it?
- B) Speed costs money. How fast can you afford to go?
Yes, as noted, NASCAR team employees are better mechanics than I am. But a lack of practice has caused some highly embarrassing wrenching gaffes this season. Bolts that weren’t installed allowed ballast weights to fall out on racetracks under the pace laps from at least two cars. That’s a huge potential safety issue, or at least it could be if fans are ever allowed to attend races again. Spark plug wires have been left laying on exhaust header tubes, causing Cup cars to start races running on only seven cylinders. Engines that suffered terminal meltdowns in the opening laps of some races almost certainly would have been caught and diagnosed prior to the race if there had been even 20 minutes of practice. Yes, these issues should have been caught prior to the race, but it doesn’t matter how good a wrench you are, if you’re waiting for a call to confirm your COVID-19 test came back negative, you’re distracted. Or if your wife calls you at the shop to say your teenage son just arrived home with a fever of 103 and has a nasty cough, you might just forget you needed to tighten that bolt just before the phone rang.
So absent practice or qualifying, how are we setting the field? Most weeks they look at the points standings. Drivers who sat somewhere between first and 12th in the standings draw ping pong balls with the number 1-12 written on them to determine their starting spot. Similarly, drivers who are 13th through 24th in the standings draw their ping pong balls as well, and so on until the field is filled with any charter cars who haven’t gained entry yet.
That’s a classic example of the rich getting richer while the poor get poorer. Under the traditional ways of setting the field, even a driver having a mediocre season could rip off a blistering lap in qualifying and start from the front row. It didn’t happen often, but it happened. With the (over) importance of clean air on the snouts of NASCAR race vehicles these days, starting a race even 24th is like starting a fight with one hand tied behind your back.
This hasn’t been made a real issue yet, but my guess is that it will be soon. Jimmie Johnson has fallen out of not only the top 16 drivers who would currently compete for this year’s title, but he’s also (well) out of the top 12. That means the best he could start any race is 13th, and he could start any of the upcoming races as low as 24th. This is for a driver who over a 20-year Cup career has earned (not been given or pulled out a ping pong ball) a 12th-place starting spot. Think what you will of Johnson and his place in the pantheon of NASCAR stars, but it would be nice to see him finish his retirement season with some pride intact.
In previous seasons and even in the pre-pandemic portion of this season, pit stall selection was also based on qualifying. It now appears that drivers will get to pick their pit stalls based on the finishing order of the previous weekend’s event. The winner will get to pick a stall first, the previous week’s runner-up second, and so on and so on. At some racetracks, the pit stall a driver has doesn’t matter much, but at other tracks it can be vital to his chances for a win or even a decent finish. Longtime fans will recall an era where there were there were two pit roads at Bristol, one on the frontstretch and one on the backstretch. Earning a backstretch pit all but doomed a driver’s chances to win that weekend (Davey Allison being one notable exception). You can understand how a driver posting a fast qualifying lap earned him a good pit stall, but how low a numbered ball he was able to pull from a sack isn’t the sort of stat they post on gum ball cards.
There’s still some confusion as to how starting spots and pit stalls might be assigned to championship contenders in the playoffs later this year. (Is “playoff” still the correct term? Still with a lower case “p”?)
It would seem NASCAR is considering seeing to it the playoff drivers all get to start near the front of the pack and grab up the choicest pit stalls every week. If one assumes that the playoff drivers are the best at what they do, one could presume they’d be able to pass some cars on their pre-ordained storm to the front. For the non-playoff drivers, their only hope to get their sponsors any TV time is to run up front or … gasp … win a race. Once again, the rich get richer and the poor get poorer. I already have my concerns about how hard it’s going to be for teams for find sponsorship next year, as it is given non-playoff cars and drivers become virtually invisible to NBC once the title drive commences in earnest at Darlington.
At least one driver has gone on record as saying he feels the lack of pre-race practice is responsible for his relative lack of success in the Cup series this year. Kyle Busch is averaging a 13.8-place finish in the Cup series this year. That’s not bad, but he hasn’t had a season-long average finish worse than that since 2009. By this point last year, the younger Busch brother had won four Cup races. In fact, if you look at where Busch ranked in first practice and where he ranked after final practice, there usually was a marked improvement between the two sessions.
It would seem that Busch and crew chief Adam Stevens have an ability to communicate. Busch is able to communicate what the car isn’t doing to his liking, and Stevens is able to make changes to the car that improve it in those problems areas. Of course, when the driver never gets to take a hot lap in the car until the green flag drops, those changes can’t be made — at which point Busch gets frustrated and all too often puts the No. 18 into the wall. I found it curious when announcing there’d be no more practice or qualifying sessions this year, NASCAR’s Scott Miller cited as one reason that “everybody” liked the new format is because it has produced a variety of new winners, not the same old names winning over and over again. I can see how some fans would find that statement problematic. NASCAR is in the business of officiating races, not orchestrating their results.