Thursday, May 27, 2010

Should racing be more like baseball?





By Scott Whitmore



What would Major League Baseball look like if it followed some of the financial principles as big-time auto racing?



From the AP newswire: In a development that is no surprise to anyone following the economic downturn, the Boston Red Sox today announced from the team’s spring training site in Florida that funding is only available to play the first half of the season.

This is a direct result, general manager Theo Epstein said, of the financial difficulties experienced by the team’s major sponsor, The Big Old Bank of the Northeast.

Although Epstein said the Red Sox are actively seeking additional sponsorship that would allow the team to continue play for the entire 162-game season, as it stands today the Red Sox will not compete past the All-Star Break in July.



Pretty crazy what my mind comes up with, huh? I was thinking about the fact that some of the best racers in the country don’t get to compete at the top levels because they don’t have the financial backing to do so. A lot of times the guy or gal who does get the seat isn’t the fastest or smartest driver, but they do happen to have a sponsor or family money.

That led me to wonder what would happen if the same rules applied to other big-time professional sports, like baseball or football.

— Say the Seattle Mariners started a left-fielder not because he (or she) was the best fielder or hitter, but instead because they had secured a sponsor?

— Or the Seahawks added an undersized left tackle whose family just happened to be Microsoft millionaires?

— Maybe the Seattle Storm put a sub-5 footer on the floor as a forward because her last name happens to be the same as a Forbes 100 company, which is also emblazoned on the team’s jerseys?



Of course none of that would happen. Yes, individual players can still use family influence and money to attend special training camps and hire trainers and tutors, but the bottom line is talent is what lifts that person to the highest level.

And that talent is discovered through an elaborate and structured series of scouting/evaluation and preparatory leagues. High school sports, select club teams, college football and basketball, and minor-league baseball offer many chances for a player to demonstrate their talent and potential for play “at the next level.”

On the surface of it, the same might be said about racing.

Although there are fewer local tracks now than 10 years ago — thanks to the once-overheated real estate market — there are still plenty of places in most parts of the country for wannabe drivers to learn how to race. And when local Saturday night racing has been mastered, there are regional and national traveling series that offer another, higher level of competition but are still short of “the big time.”

But even though players in other sports often struggle financially at the lower levels, there is very little comparison to Saturday night drivers, who must use their family, their savings and/or hopefully a couple small sponsors to finance their racing.

And unlike the racers who must buy everything — the car, engine, repair parts, tires, fuel, a way to get the car to the track and the way into the track for themselves and their crew — the minor-league ballplayer is issued the tools of his or her game: uniform, bats, gloves, and balls.

There are no signing bonuses or guaranteed money for the racer who wants to get into the big time. Instead, the racer is expected to bring the money — from their family or a sponsor — to the team.

That is, if they get the chance to meet with a team, because to rise to a level where a team notices takes a small fortune — or an inside contact. And while there will always be those who race just because they love the sport, there are many more who don’t follow up on their dream because they know it won’t go anywhere without a huge cost.

It shouldn’t be that hard.

No, it is not an apples-to-apples comparison, but it makes me wonder if big-time racing hasn’t somehow overlooked what the other professional sports leagues are doing. Especially when you consider the very real concerns big-time racing has about attracting and holding onto new fans.

Generally speaking, new fans need a reason to care, an “entry point” if you will, to the sport. This is often due to family traditions, but there is often a regional draw, too. I don’t watch a lot of hockey, but as a native of Illinois I’m thrilled that the Chicago Blackhawks are in the Stanley Cup Finals. If they win the Cup, who knows, maybe I (and those like me) will be more apt to follow the NHL and/or Blackhawks in the future.

Diehard fans may call me a “bandwagon” fan, and I can’t dispute it, but the NHL, Blackhawks and the TV network showing their games don’t care. They just want the chance to make and keep me as a fan.

Big-time racing would be happy to have that chance, too, but doesn’t seem to realize how to go about it.

How many Kasey Kahne or Greg Biffle wannabes were there in Western Washington once those two started moving up the ladder of NASCAR? What if instead of making it costly for those wannabes to follow that dream, it was instead made easier? Easier, that is, up to the point where a true evaluation of talent showed those that could and those that could not thrive at the top levels?

And although I greatly admire and respect Mark Martin, there are way too many drivers in the top ranks of NASCAR closer to his age than Joey Logano’s age. When the Cup rookie of the year competition is over before the weather turns hot (because there is only one driver in it), something needs to change.

There is a lot of money involved in big-time racing, from TV rights, sponsors and auto makers. Some of that money needs to be pushed down to the lowest possible level – the local short track or regional touring series – where the next generation of racers and fans are.



Scott Whitmore is a freelance writer who covered motorsports for The Herald in Everett, Wash. He can be contacted at scott@scottwhitmore.net

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