We could be having this same conversation about golf. Why watch golf? It’s boring and repetitive to the casual viewer. Unless you know the history, the personalities and have a feel for the sport by playing it yourself. Then, you can appreciate the skill of a good golfer and perhaps get ideas to improve your own game. You watch the early holes to build up to the tension at the end of a long close match, and get engrossed in a sudden death playoff.
We could have the same conversation about baseball. Why watch baseball? It’s so slow. Unless you know the history, the personalities and have developed team loyalties over the years. You learn to appreciate the skill and coordination of a good infield, the role of a middle reliever, the drama of a stolen base. You watch a no-hitter unfold and thrill to the excitement of a game where “nothing” happens.
NASCAR is really not all that different. Of course it’s boring and repetitive. Unless you know the history, the personalities and have a feel for the sport. Then you can appreciate the skill of a good driver and his pit crew. You can watch for sparks to errupt between two feuding drivers. You learn the differences between the tracks–and become passionate about whether a superspeedway is more fun to watch than a road course or a short track.
Setting aside, then, the fact that most any sport is boring to those who don’t follow it, let’s address “Why NASCAR” for so many people.
NASCAR has the advantage over many sports in that it is fairly easy to begin to get interested. The surface rules are fairly simple–drive fast. The cars are easy to tell apart because of the sponsors. The drivers and the sport as a whole market personalities. And there are a limited number of personalities–far few drivers to get to know that baseball players. You can enjoy it on a surface level, or you can dig deeper and get involved in the personalities of crew chiefs and the politics of the organization and rule changes.
NASCAR is a sport that acknowledges a deep need of the blue-colar, high-school educated, rural, nuclear family based segment of America. It affirms their values. It offers the opportunity to root for the underdog or the likley champion. It publicly acknowledges values like hardwork, fair play, family, manly-men and feminine women. Many revel in it precisely because it is a lower (or possibly middle) class sport. They drink beer instead of wine. And Budweiser or Miller, not some sophisticated micro-brew. They get joy out of hanging out with the blue color, just folks crowd, feeling rah rah about America. They find comfort in the public acknowledgement of God at the beginning of races. They feel patriotic and strong when the military air craft fly over. The open acknowledgement of the importance of family–in big names like Petty or Earnhardt, but also in watching Mark Martin retire so he can spend more time with his young son who is already a six-year veteran race at age 13. There is a heart and soul to NASCAR that many highly educated and sophisticated people have never chosen to learn to savor. They somehow consider it beneath them. I (and many others) love it. It may take getting over some cultural snobbishness–because you can appreciate a good quiche does not mean you should reject a greasy cheeseburger.
Another important factor: Every single race includes every single star driver. In most other sports you can only watch a few of the stars at a time. If you are watching the Red Sox and the Yankees, you are missing out on what the Cubs and Giants are up to. But every week I get to watch Tony Stewart and Dale Jr. and Jeremy Mayfield and Jaimie McMurry and Kurt Busch and… and… and…
So, if racer72 is the number one NASCAR fan, can I get in line to be number two?