NASCAR Has Lost the Plot, and Fans Aren’t Coming Back
Why am I watching this race from Atlanta?
That was my initial reaction on the afternoon of February 24 as I turned on NASCAR’s second race of the year, once it became clear Dustin Johnson had the PGA tournament locked up. Upon turning on Fox, I was greeted with two fairly stunning revelations: tens of thousands of empty seats and the announcers talking about the playoff race.
It was the second race of the year. What was the point? Did the race even matter? The announcers were focused on a points battle with another two dozen races to go. The laps were counting down to a “Stage 2” finish. Is this even NASCAR?
There are two sports that I’ve written about it extensively on my blog because their potential remains unfulfilled in the United States. The first is soccer, which is growing in popularity while the domestic league fails in creating a “major league” here. The other is NASCAR, because it’s a sport I loved as a kid and have been dismayed by its stunning fall from relevance.
The numbers prove what I’m saying. This year’s Daytona 500 has lost half its audience in the past decade. Last week’s Atlanta race was the least-watched 2nd race of the season in at least 20 years. There’s seemingly no end to this tailspin.
What’s most maddening about NASCAR’s downfall is how much of it is self-inflicted. Whether you point to the introduction of the playoffs, the removal of driver’s personalities or the changing nature of the sport because of the cars, there have been multiple steps NASCAR could’ve taken to right the ship. Instead, things just get worse and worse.
In my humble opinion, here are three easy fixes for NASCAR to regain the plot and start to entice those lapsed fans to return.
End Stage Racing
I still don’t get stage racing. When first announced, I stupidly assumed it was going to be similar to Supercross, with two heats to qualify for the main event. Essentially, the Daytona 500 qualifying format with the Twin 125s, except they all happen on the same day and some cars don’t qualify for the main event.
Instead, stage racing is basically two competition yellow flags. Sure, driver get points but who cares? Does anyone buy a ticket to a race to see who is in 6th place at the 60-lap mark?
It has to be especially off-putting for a casual fan turning on NASCAR randomly and see “3 Laps Left” before a Stage 1. What is Stage 1, they ask? What is the reward, they muse? Shouldn’t winning the race matter, they think as they change the channel.
It’s been a complete flop on every level and there’s no reason for it to continue. It has attracted zero new fans. It has turned off thousands of old fans. Get rid of it, starting now.
Shorten the Races
Stage racing seemed to be introduced to combat the monotony of 400- and 500-mile races on cookie-cutter 1.5-mile tracks where nothing happens. To me, that’s not addressing the problem of monotonous racing on cookie cutter tracks. It’s a band-aid on a shotgun wound.
The allure of the long races in NASCAR’s past was the fact many cars could not get the distance and drivers would nurse their cars. If the car blew up, it was more often than not the driver’s fault for pushing too hard.
Today’s technology has eliminated that concern. If a car doesn’t get 500 miles, it’s a mechanical fail. And it very rarely, if ever happens. So why are we driving in circles for 5 hours?
Formula 1 is my favorite auto sport to currently watch and, much like soccer, those races never go over two hours. If you ask me, I wish F1 would increase the length of their races because I want more. You always want to leave the audience wanting more.
With NASCAR, I want to chop at least 100 miles from every race outside of old classics like the Daytona 500, the Coke 600 and Bristol’s night race in August. The stage racing is an admission that the races are too long without solving the problem.
Give me a 300-mile race with no stages 8 days a week over a 500-mile race with 3 stages.
Cut the Playoffs in Half (or more)
The point of NASCAR was never to win the Championship, it was to win the race. It just so happened that people like Richard Petty won the Championship because they won the most races.
The Chase removed NASCAR’s soul. This is where NASCAR has truly and completely lost the plot. No one cares about the playoffs in February.
Fans really don’t care about the playoffs because nearly every meaningful driver makes it anyway. Does NASCAR not see how so many people tune out the NHL and college basketball during the regular season?
Once you establish that the playoffs mean more, you have also established that the regular season races mean less.
Is that the message NASCAR wants to give to Atlanta? “This race means less than the Chicago race in October — buy tickets now!”
If it were up to me, I would reduce the number of drivers who make the playoffs down to no more than 8, and reduce the number of playoff races down to 3 or 4. Though the PGA’s version of playoffs hasn’t been hugely successful, it has not ruined the sport like NASCAR’s has. Why? Because golf limited the playoffs to a very specific part of the calendar and used it to increase the value of the regular season.
When you watch a PGA Tour event, the FedEx Cup is on the periphery. The announcers, especially earlier in the year, will very rarely mention it. Sure, they’ll give an update on standings during the tournament but it isn’t the focus.
Just think if the PGA Tour gave away, say, “playoff points” to how players finished in the third round. Wouldn’t that be insane? Of course, it would. That’s why when you watch a PGA Tour ever week, it’s first and foremost about who wins that tournament. The playoff chase talk is saved almost exclusively to the week or two before the actual playoffs.
Make Every Race Feel Big
All of my suggestions point to NASCAR’s most significant challenge: not every race feels important. If anything, most races seems like they mean nothing with the exception of holiday weekend races, until the playoff starts.
The beauty of NASCAR, at least in my eyes as a youth, was that every race was the biggest race possible. Dale Earnhardt was out there sending guys into the wall to win, whether it was Daytona or North Wilkesboro. Rusty Wallace was desperately trying to get the win every week, not thinking about stage racing or playoff points.
The soul of NASCAR was a bunch of drivers go toe-to-toe and laying it all on the line for one specific reason — to win the race. Every NASCAR driver will likely say that hasn’t changed. Maybe it hasn’t. But when I watch NASCAR, I don’t get that vibe anymore.
That’s why less people are watching. That’s why less people are buying tickets. And that’s why NASCAR is in serious trouble.
