I was reading Ernie Saxton’s column at phillyBurbs.com and he brought up some good points about how the current length of NASCAR Cup races could be detrimental to fan interest. The topic of shortening races has been brought up in the past and, in fact, Rockingham and Dover had both trimmed their 500-mile races by a hundred miles in the mid- and late-1990s.

Why 500 Miles?

Somehow or another NASCAR eventually evolved into featuring primarily 500-mile race distances, or something similar (such as 500 laps at Bristol). Like running, motorsports has a diversity of race lengths aimed to test different strengths. For example, a 400-meter sprint emphasizes the runners’ power (strength and speed). The most analogous form of motorsports to a 400m sprint would be what we typically see at our local short track. A marathon run, on the other hand, tests the runners’ endurance — like auto racing’s 12 Hours of Sebring. A NASCAR 500-miler is more like a 5K run — requiring a mix of both speed and endurance.

In other words, it appears that NASCAR wanted the element of attrition to be a factor in its races. It’s not enough to be fast… the driver has to be fast over a long haul.

In previous decades, attrition was a major player in NASCAR races. Five-hundred laps at a place like Bristol must have been hell without power steering. And 500 miles at Talladega before restrictor plates was probably just as hellish on engines. But in today’s NASCAR, attrition isn’t quite the element it used to be. Mechanical failures are not nearly as common as they were years ago, and driver fatigue is almost unheard of. About the only thing that doesn’t last anymore are Goodyear’s tires.

Without attrition, is it really important to run 500 miles anymore?

Shorter Races = More Excitement?

So will shorter races be more exciting races? I remember when Dover trimmed its race distances from 500 miles down to 400. For the most part, everyone was on board with that move. (Though many ticket holders wondered if the prices would be trimmed by a fifth as well. They weren’t.) So… is Dover any more exciting now that it’s 400 miles? Well… I think it’s safe to say that there’s 100 laps less of boredom, so maybe that could count for something. I mean — the pain is over quicker, so yes in that sense it’s better.

And the Cup series does have a handful of 300-mile races (Phoenix, Loudon). I’m not sure that they’re any more popular than the others. Of course the Nationwide series regularly runs 200- and 300-mile races (and with all the Sprint Cup drivers to boot), and there isn’t a lot of viewing interest. Likewise, the Indy cars run 200-mile races and… well… we don’t even have to go there.

What’s the Primary Problem?

NASCAR needs to understand that “race excitement” isn’t sufficient for their product. They need to re-generate excitement for their entire Series — “the big picture”. They could have a 50-lap race with a thousand passes and it won’t cut the mustard if people aren’t interested in the drivers and the drama of the circuit.

Most fans don’t tune in just to see passes and crashes. I remember watching four-hour races on television every week just to see if Davey Allison could hold on to the point lead… or to see who Dale Earnhardt was going to wreck next… or to see if Rusty Wallace really would retaliate for being taken out at Bristol.

Between vanilla drivers, cookie-cutter tracks and the “Race for the Chase” format, NASCAR has pretty much flushed those concepts down the toilet and taken much of the fans’ interest down with it.

At this point, does it really matter how long the races are?

Tidbits to Ponder

Here are some interesting facts from Fox Sports (via Jayski.com):

• After Dover, Cup races were averaging a caution period every 40 miles of racing. In 2008 the average was one every 45 miles. In 2001, one every 63 miles. In 1999, one every 72 miles.
• Through Dover, Cup race speeds had averaged 118 mph. In 2008, race speeds averaged 124 mph. In 2001, 128 mph. And in 1999, 130 mph.

Sometimes when I watch NASCAR on ESPN the coverage makes me simply wince. But other times I’m on the verge of throwing something through my television set. Something… I don’t know — heavy.

Here are three things, in order of annoyance, that I think they could change to improve their presentation dramatically. I don’t mean to pick on ESPN per se, since most of NASCAR’s broadcast partners suffer from these same problems, but ESPN just seems to excel at them.

End the Spotter Jibba-Jabba

ESPN was sort of on the cutting edge of bringing in-car team communications to the broadcasts in the 1990s. I think it has very good applications. Sometimes it’s nice to know what the crew chief and spotter are saying to the driver and vice versa. Of course the old saying “everything in moderation” should apply here. There are times when it’s appropriate and times when it’s not. It seems that ESPN has become very undisciplined in how it uses these communications.

Mr. T: Got no time for spotter jibba-jabba.

Example: Often when covering restarts, they’ll let the broadcast team relax from the mic and pretty much open wide all the teams’ spotter communications — simultaneously. The result is a mishmash on unintelligible voices that add absolutely no value to the broadcast experience. I truly cannot understand a thing that is even being said because there are ten half-muffled people all talking over each other. What is the point? When restarts come I find myself either muting the TV or changing the channel for a few minutes until the disaster is over.

Another problem is when an incident occurs. Typically when something happens on the track, they immediately open the spotters’ audio of the cars involved. The problem is that the guys in the booth are also trying to call the race and the incident itself. Often they have to cut themselves off altogether just because they’re competing with the spotter talk. And is broadcasting “Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” really the best way to engage the viewer?

Stay Away from the Bumper Cam

Somebody in the truck must have a real fetish with the bumper-mounted camera. It’s a nice shot, but it’s also a very narrow shot, which means it’s not practical for action moments — like passes. I don’t understand why the bumper cam is used to cover passes. I can’t see what is going on. Shouldn’t that be important? And especially on the restrictor plate tracks where the cars are nose to tail. It’s not uncommon to be in a restart or a close pack of racing cars and what do we see? A big Chevy bowtie decal.  And, unfortunately… nothing else.

Scale Back the False Enthusiasm

Enthusiasm in a NASCAR broadcast is a necessity if the race is to be covered well. False enthusiasm, however, is easily identifiable and takes away from the show. It’s almost embarrassing because it sounds like the commentators are trying to overcompensate for something that is lacking. The cast at ESPN are particularly bad in this area in my opinion, as is that at SPEED. Just call the race as it is and let the product speak for itself. It shouldn’t need any extra hype.

And while I’m on the topic… how is Allen Bestwick in that silly pre-race trailer show instead of calling the race in the booth? Bestwick, probably due to his MRN background, is perhaps the only “new-school” commentator that understands how to call a race effectively and is, in my view, the best currently available television play-by-play announcer in American motorsports.  Somebody, please, put him in the booth!

These are three simply, easy, and non-controversial things that the television broadcasters can do to help improve the viewing experience. At this point I think every little bit that keeps people from flipping stations is going to help.