Chase should eliminate Talladega frights
Though it was soundly defeated at the ballot box, Alabama does have a state lottery.
It’s called “Talladega.”
Put 43 ping-pong balls, numbered 1 through 43, into a large glass jar. Then blindfold the competitors in the Chase for the NASCAR Nextel Cup and ask each driver, one by one, to pick a ball from the jar.
The number each driver draws is his finishing position in the fall race at Talladega Superspeedway.
Saves a lot of wear and tear, doesn’t it? Drivers won’t have to worry about sustaining injuries in “the big one,” and the guys back in the fab shop won’t have to work overtime to repair the mangled hunks of metal that used to be racecars. The hard-core partiers in the infield won’t have to interrupt their partying for the occasional glance at the racetrack.
Here’s the best thing: Determining the finish by lot is every bit as fair and meaningful as what actually occurs on the asphalt.
That’s why Talladega has no business hosting a race in the Chase.
Racing at Talladega is unlike racing at any other track on the Nextel Cup circuit. Sure, NASCAR mandates the use of restrictor plates at Daytona, too, but at Daytona, handling is just as important as power. You need both to be quick.
Talladega is about raw speed, about drafting and about racing in such close quarters that an unexpected bobble by a driver – any driver – can wipe out half the field. Driving at Talladega is less about racing in the traditional sense and more about dodging the 42 other bullets on the track with you – and continuing to dodge them for more than three hours.
Play Russian roulette with a 43-round cylinder and only one empty chamber, and you’re bound to lose, sooner than later.
Starting position is irrelevant at Talladega. Even if you win the pole, you’re certain to be shuffled toward the back and mired in traffic at some point during the race. If the big one occurs when you happen to be midpack, as it did to Jeff Gordon and Denny Hamlin on Sunday, it’s your tough luck.
Talladega is a problem without a solution. There’s no effective strategy either for anticipating or coping with the randomness of the place. Hanging out in the back of the pack doesn’t work. That’s where the three Joe Gibbs cars were running late in the race when they all fell victim to the same wreck.
Running up front is no picnic, either. Championship contenders Dale Earnhardt Jr. and Jimmie Johnson were fighting for the lead on the final lap when a lightning bolt named Brian Vickers decided to strike.
Talladega demands a unique skill set, one that a driver can’t learn anywhere else but at Talladega. It has three components – hold the wheel straight, hold your breath and pray.
You can argue that random events at other tracks also can have a profound effect on the standings. Admittedly, Tony Stewart’s wipeout at Dover all but ended Kasey Kahne’s title hopes. But you can live with the occasional isolated incident. What should not be part of the Chase is the multicar travesty that punishes and rewards championship contenders indiscriminately.
If not for a cut tire on Jeff Burton’s No. 31 Chevrolet, this Talladega race could have sucked the suspense right out of the Chase. Fortunately, for everyone except Burton, that piece of misfortune tightened the standings and left every driver in the Chase with at least a faint ray of hope.
The 2007 Nextel Cup schedule is already set, but NASCAR should give serious consideration to gerrymandering Talladega out of the Chase in 2008. If a restrictor-plate race is a necessity, then end the season with the Daytona 500 and stop being the only sport in which the “Super Bowl” kicks off the schedule.
That way, you could start the year with a 400-miler at Daytona and move the Perspiration 400 on July 4th weekend to a venue outside the Torrid Zone.
That way, you also could go a long way toward taking the chance out of the Chase.