"NASCAR Is Shifting Gears"--Washington Post, 6/9/01...
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>>> NASCAR Is Shifting Gears
Younger, More Polished Drivers in Vogue as Sport Seeks to Remake Its Image and Satisfy Sponsors
By Liz Clarke
Washington Post Staff Writer
Saturday, June 9, 2001; Page A01
In the early days of stock-car racing, no one seemed to mind that most of the drivers had ornery dispositions and southern accents as thick as motor oil. All that mattered was having the nerve to race flat-out.
Today, that's not enough.
To break into the sport's top ranks now, drivers not only must know how to handle a 3,400-pound stock car at 190 mph but also show some charisma doing it. And if they're young, articulate and handsome, that's even better.
Such new requisites are the latest manifestation of the National Association of Stock Car Auto Racing's headlong rush to remake its image as it roars into the 21st century.
The first step was breaking out of its traditional Southeastern confines -- a move that started nearly a decade ago with construction of multimillion dollar speedways in Las Vegas, Los Angeles and, this season, Chicago. Then came a six-year, $2.4 billion television deal with Fox and NBC, signaling stock-car racing's acceptance on a major league level. Now, NASCAR's power brokers are seeking telegenic, young drivers to strap in their cars.
The prototype is three-time champion Jeff Gordon, 29, whose on-camera appeal and on-track success helped pave the way for a generation of young open-wheel talents -- Tony Stewart and the late Kenny Irwin, among them -- to join the stock-car ranks. While there's no disputing the talent of that trio, veteran racers can't help but wonder if NASCAR's new focus on youth, looks and marketability isn't getting away from racing's core value.
The engine driving stock-car racing's makeover is corporate America, which bankrolls NASCAR's race teams and wields growing influence over who's hired to drive. And with the tab for sponsoring a top Winston Cup team running $12-15 million a year, sponsors understandably want some say-so.
In most cases, the marriage of race-car driver and sponsor starts with the team owner, who first finds the company willing to advertise on his racecar. Once the sponsor signs up, the owner hires the driver -- subject to the sponsor's approval. The sponsor's priorities in evaluating drivers vary widely.
"If they think winning will sell the most product, they don't worry about the celebrity part of it," says seven-time champion Richard Petty, who owns three NASCAR teams. "On the other hand, if they look at racing and say, 'We want to do a lot of TV commercials and stuff,' they'll say, 'We've got to have somebody that can almost talk English here.' "
With 200 NASCAR victories, Petty isn't typically second-guessed about his choice of drivers. But he makes sure to give his sponsors (currently, Cheerios, Sprint and Georgia-Pacific) a voice in the process.
"We'll say, 'Here's two or three names of people we think can do the job' and try to sort of lead 'em to who we want," Petty said. "But you still give them a choice."
Under the typical agreement, the sponsor kicks in $6-15 million each year to build the team's racecars, pay its salaries and cover travel expenses. In return, it gets its name and logo plastered on the front of the car, which serves as a high-octane billboard on wheels.
The sponsor also gets the promotional services of the driver, who films TV commercials for its product, speaks at sales conventions and mingles with corporate guests on race day. And, finally, the sponsor gets NASCAR's captive audience, which is dominated by men ages 18-49 (a coveted, hard-to-reach demographic) who are known for their "brand-loyalty." According to one sports-research firm, nearly 72 percent of NASCAR fans make a conscious effort to buy products that support their favorite drivers.
Ideally, there's a synergy between driver and sponsor.
The late Dale Earnhardt, for example, was the perfect fit for Wrangler jeans when he burst onto the NASCAR scene with his hard-charging style. Wrangler's motto, "One Tough Customer," seemed custom-made for its brash young driver, and the moniker stuck.
Procter & Gamble, meantime, felt Ricky Rudd could sell Tide, and the driver and detergent raced together for nine years. "Ricky always looked like he'd just taken a shower," explains veteran race promoter H.A. "Humpy" Wheeler. "And he never said anything out of whack."
Over the years, the mix of NASCAR's sponsors has moved away from strictly automotive products to the "market basket" of goods on grocery-store shelves. High-tech companies are also getting involved, such as Cingular Wireless and Dulles-based America Online. And this NASCAR's "new wave" of sponsors doesn't want pitchmen who look as if they just crawled out from under a car. Instead, they want pitchmen who look as if they just drove that car to the golf course.
This shift toward young, clean-cut, well-spoken drivers can be traced to one moment in NASCAR history: Nov. 15, 1992. That was the day Richard Petty retired from racing, and a prodigy named Jeff Gordon made his Winston Cup debut.
Born in California and reared in Indiana, Gordon boasted Tom Cruise's good looks, impeccable manners and no discernible accent. He could also drive the wheels off a racecar and went on to win three NASCAR championships by the time he was 27. Suddenly, legions of new stock-car racing fans -- particularly children and women -- flocked to the track to cheer Gordon's rainbow-colored Chevrolet. Major corporations such as PepsiCo and Frito Lay took notice and clamored to get Gordon's name on their products. And ever since, NASCAR team owners have combed the country in search of a driver just like him.
Petty believes NASCAR's emphasis on drivers' marketability is good for the sport, arguing it's forcing team owners to broaden their talent search when hiring drivers. That's how Joe Gibbs found Stewart, an Indiana native and open-wheel phenom. Robert Yates (largely at Texaco's urging) signed Irwin from midgets and sprint cars after a similar search. "You're not just bringing in the good-ol' stock-car boys," Petty said. "You're bringing in people from different walks of life and different racing backgrounds. And that brings new fans."
That said, others worry the frenzy to find the next Gordon isn't necessarily in the sport's best interest.
Developing a stock-car racer typically takes time. (Of the top six drivers in the point standings at the moment, four are 43 or older). In most cases, sponsors who insist on hiring a 20-something driver won't get to Victory Lane for a few years. The worry is without timely on-track results, disenchanted sponsors might close up shop and take their marketing dollars elsewhere -- particularly in a constricting economy.
Others fear too much emphasis on the drivers' image could do to stock-car racing what MTV did to rock-and-roll: Take away its "edge" and produce the automotive equivalent of bland but good-looking music.
"It's something we all worry about: The so-called 'generic' race driver, which would serve up vanilla rather than pistachio," admits Wheeler, the Charlotte-based race promoter.
Rick Mast, 44, is more blunt: "The heroes of the past couldn't survive today. Dale Earnhardt could come in here right now and wouldn't have a prayer. He'd never make the first Winston Cup race because nobody would give him a shot. He couldn't go before the corporate board of that sponsor, with all its directors, and do what I call 'suave 'em.' Dale got very good at the stuff eventually. But in those early days, he wasn't. All he could do was drive that racecar."
For most drivers, the ability to woo corporate dollars is a basic survival skill. It starts at the local short tracks, according to racer Ken Schrader, where young drivers either learn to race on OPM (short for "other people's money") or quit. "Unless mommy and daddy are rich, you've got to go to someone for help -- even if it's someone to fill up your truck with gas to get to the races," Schrader says.
Each time a driver progresses to the next level of racing, he's got to sell himself more effectively.
Mast recognized that was his weak point in 1987. He was competing on NASCAR's Grand National series at the time (one rung below the elite Winston Cup circuit), and ESPN announcer Jerry Punch interviewed him at Dover Downs International Speedway about winning his first with a track-record lap. A few days later, Punch stopped by to explain why ESPN never aired the segment.
"He said, 'Well, you were underneath the car working, and you got out with dirt on your face. And the last thing you seemed like you wanted to be doing was talking on television,' " Mast recalls Punch telling him. "He said, 'You want to be in Winston Cup, right? You're talented enough to do it. And you're at least as intelligent as most of the guys here. But you're going to have to clean up that TV part of it.' "
The next week, Mast enrolled in a Dale Carnegie course. After that, each time he saw a TV camera in the garage, he would wave it over and said he wanted to talk. Next, he learned the name of every auto racing writer and introduced himself. And he polished his act for potential sponsors.
"You have to be able, number one, to suave the people in the boardroom of that sponsor that pays the bills on your car," Mast says. "You've got to be able to walk in that boardroom, with those CEOs and presidents who are in their own cutthroat world, and at least sway the majority of those guys to be your fan."
While it's not essential drivers use the products they advertise on their cars, it is essential they're well versed in the product and its parent company.
Schrader, who drives the M&Ms Pontiac, can rattle off the personality traits of each M&M cartoon character that adorns his racecar.
"Red is like the crew chief -- cocky and unbelievably confident," Schrader explains. "Yellow is like Ralph on 'The Honeymooners.' He means good, but it's not all there, maybe. Orange is real skittish. You sneak up behind him, and he'd jump through the roof. I guess my favorite is Green. She's a fox, and she knows it. She struts."
Similarly, Mast has encyclopedic command of Skoal smokeless tobacco, his former sponsor. He knows the percentage of women who dipped Skoal in 1978; the gross revenue of U.S. Tobacco, which makes Skoal, in 1994; and why the company invariably ranks among the top of the Fortune 500 in net profit. ("I know what the stuff costs to produce," he adds.)
Mast learned nearly as much about the financial services offered by Conseco, which sponsored him last season. After that deal ended, he was in the running to drive the new Cingular Wireless car, but the team owner signed 24-year-old Jason Leffler, a three-time USAC midget champion, because Cingular wanted a fresh face to mirror its image as a young, wireless upstart. Mast's current sponsor is Midwest Transit.
"It's a delicate situation," said veteran crew chief Barry Dodson, whose driver, Kenny Wallace, has struggled to find a steady sponsor this season. "Corporations look at youth a lot. They also look at marketability. Someone may have the talent to drive, but they may not have the corporate talent. These days, you've just got to be top-notch, I think, from top to bottom. You've got to look good. You've got to run good. And you've got to act good."
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