4 all who think were rednecks

By now, this shouldn't surprise any of us in the sports world, even
us Northerners who truly wouldn't know a carburetor from a cylinder
and believe the greatest automotive invention is the attached gas
cap. The incredible popularity of NASCAR can no longer be shrouded in
secrecy, even among those who have been the last to come to the
party.

It's a simple equation: The more other professional sports screw up,
the more people love NASCAR.

Look at what has littered the pro sports landscape of late: the NBA
brawl at the Palace, baseball's burgeoning steroid nightmare, the
arrogance of Barry Bonds and the NHL's utter disregard for its fans.

All the numbers point to the fact that American professional sports
fans truly are fed up, more so than at any other time in this era of
the me-first athlete. TV ratings for most sports continue to sink,
slowly but surely. The level of disgruntlement with the steroid issue
in Major League Baseball is surprisingly high, not only from fans,
but from the media. Hockey fans who have put up with the nonsensical
fights for years say the NHL has really done it this time.

Then we have NASCAR. As the disconnect between most pro athletes and
their fans grows greater by the day, hour, even minute, NASCAR
refuses to allow its drivers to move farther than an arm's length
from its fans.

It's simple economics. Drivers are still accountable to someone;
namely, their sponsor. And the sponsor isn't happy unless it is
getting results from the driver. So NASCAR's multimillionaires do
something that is becoming rare in pro sports: They show up and
actually meet people. They welcome them on race day. They shake hands
at corporate meetings. They sign autographs everywhere. (Rusty
Wallace signed so many one year he got carpal tunnel syndrome. Name
another pro athlete who has done that.)

In this way, NASCAR's best are like those Olympians, female athletes
or male minor sports stars who are renowned for being so
accommodating to their fans. It's no surprise that they have the same
common denominator: When they started, they never expected to hit it
big. No one handed them a fat contract or told them in sixth grade
they were destined for greatness. They didn't start on their way for
the money, because, often, there was little or none to be given away.
They simply did this because they loved their craft, which, in the
drivers' case, meant bouncing around small dirt tracks on Saturday
nights, hoping to one day make it to a place that actually was paved.

NASCAR was poised to make this surge into the Middle American
consciousness, and once it had an opening, it never looked back. At
various times during the past quarter century, hockey, soccer, tennis
and golf have had similar chances to play Avis to the NFL's Hertz.
NASCAR succeeded where others have failed because, first and
foremost, almost everyone in America has a car. We all don't play
hockey or soccer or own tennis rackets or golf clubs. But we all
drive.

Yet it's much more than that. When the opportunity arose, NASCAR was
prepared to go national and launch a vast merchandising machine. (Did
you know you could buy Jeff Gordon,Dale Jr and other drivers' miniature chocolate cars as
Valentine's gifts this year?)

It triumphed because it had athletes willing to go the extra mile to
sell their sport when others have long since given up because it
doesn't matter to them anymore.

Before the 2003 Daytona 500, both Gordon and Wallace picked up the
phone and called a reporter at home at their appointed times for
interviews. They called not a minute early nor a minute late. And
just the other day, driver Jamie McMurray was interviewed by Fox
during its telecast of the race. The interview occurred after he had
crashed — and before he went back onto the track to continue racing.
Now that is one accommodating athlete.

The way NASCAR is going, with the help of a necessary push for
diversity to attract black and female drivers, it wouldn't be
surprising to hear that someday in the future, you might have to
watch the commercials on the Daytona 500 as closely as you watch the
ones on the Super Bowl.

For now though, you can just step back and marvel at what a NASCAR
nation we've become, remembering that it's not really about the cars,
but the people inside them.