Fishing For A Fantastic Finish

Fishing For A Fantastic Finish In the Chase For The NASCAR Sprint Cup



Column by Cathy Elliott

The sport of NASCAR has certainly enjoyed its share of epic battles.
Notable contests that spring to mind include the on-track thriller where the second-place championship contender won the race on a gutsy last-lap pass, and took over the points lead at the same time.
Then there was the non-verbal match-up where a driver communicated with a NASCAR official using nothing more than a couple of fingers, one from each hand. And who can forget the more vocal, and nearly physical, tussle between two of the most highly-respected ambassadors of the sport, about as unexpected as a cage match between Strawberry Shortcake and Blueberry Muffin?
All those things, summarizing the actions (and antics) of Denny Hamlin, Kyle Busch, Jeff Gordon and Jeff Burton, occurred on a single day, during the November 7 NASCAR Sprint Cup Series AAA Texas 500 at Texas Motor Speedway.
The storyline from that race that has garnered the biggest headlines and generated the most heated discussion, however, is another classic duel, the long-standing feud between "fish" and "cut bait."
Four-time and reigning Cup Series champion Jimmie Johnson's No. 48 team started the race at the top of the driver standings, with Hamlin and Kevin Harvick in second and third place, respectively. Johnson didn't race badly at Texas -- he finished ninth -- but "bad" is a relative term during the Chase for the NASCAR Sprint Cup. When the two guys nipping at your heels both finish ahead of you, and one of them wins the race, that's bad.
A big part of the problem was attributed not to Johnson's effort on the track, but to his team's uninspired effort on pit road. Stats indicate that midway through the race, the No. 48 had lost 41 seconds and 11 positions in the pits. In NASCAR's time zone, 41 seconds is like the difference between dog years and human years; in other words, not favorable for the dog.
Gordon's crew, on the other hand, a team no longer mathematically eligible to take home the title, rolled out consistent pit stops all day, until their driver was knocked out of the race after a hard crash under caution (see Strawberry Shortcake and Blueberry Muffin, above).
Gordon and Johnson are teammates. Johnson's team had spent the day cutting bait, while Gordon's bunch, who came to Texas ready to fish, were left standing around with a loaded tackle box and no boat. What to do?
Duh. Chad Knaus, four-time and reigning NASCAR Sprint Cup Series championship crew chief, moved those seven anglers over to his marina, on the spot. A couple days later, Hendrick Motorsports announced the switch would stand for the remainder of the season.
The backlash has been surprisingly negative. Johnson supporters feel his pit crew members, many of whom have been with him for all four of his title runs, were treated disrespectfully. After all, even Abraham Lincoln knew, and famously commented, that changing horses in midstream is probably not the best plan for a successful crossing.
Gordon supporters feel their driver has been effectively robbed of his whopping two remaining chances to win a race this season. Supporters of the other 10 drivers in the Chase contend you just can't do stuff like that; it simply isn't fair.
But "fair," like "bad," is a relative term. In NASCAR, if there's no written rule against it, it's fair. When you're running for a championship, all bets are off. "Wait and see" time is over; now, you "recognize and do."
So Knaus did. He's taking a lot of heat for the decision, but frankly, I can see where he's coming from.
Former NASCAR Slim Jim All Pro Series champion Hal Goodson owns and operates a service station about a mile down the street from my office. Last month when I went out to the parking lot and my car wouldn't start, I called Hal and he came over to take a look. The verdict: My battery, which had been completely reliable until now, wasn't giving me the juice I needed.
Did we spend a lot of time discussing the relative merits of each side of the issue? No. Did we hang on to the old battery and try to nurse it along until the end of the day? No. We took immediate action. Hal ripped that under-performing battery out of the car and installed a fresh one, on the spot.
Granted, a dead battery in the mighty Kia and the entire over-the-wall crew on the No. 48 Lowe's Chevy aren't exactly comparable, but the issue is basically the same. Whatever your job, when it's time to go, you need the ability to get moving, Now, I have that ability.
Maybe Jimmie Johnson has it, too. "We'll find out. I've got no clue. It's uncharted territory for us," he said the day after the race.
Only time -- what's left of it -- will tell whether Knaus' decision will turn out to be Mr Right, but it was definitely Mr. Right Now; Johnson lost zero spots on pit road after the switch.
The boat is in the water, there's plenty of fresh bait, stocked up over the course of 34 -- well, make that 33 and 1/2 -- races, and the line is cast. Now all we can do is wait to find out who will come home with the catch of the season.
Regardless of how it ends, the 2010 NASCAR Sprint Cup Series has been one wild fish story. And unlike most tales of its type ... this one’s actually the truth.