How Nascar is different from Formula One

Welcome, class, to today's lesson on America's quirkiest popular sport. It goes by the name of Nascar, a word you will not find in any legitimate dictionary. It is an acronym. Only the founding fathers know what the letters stand for.
To simulate the noise level at these races, the lecture will be delivered over the recorded roar of military jet flyovers, fireworks and an AC/DC concert. Snacks favoured by Nascar types are available in the back - beef jerky and smokeless tobacco.
Nascar's roots extend straight into the nation's rural south. In fact, contemporary drivers claim direct ancestry to moonshine runners, the daring men who would tune up their cars during Prohibition to elude police while delivering the illegal, home-brewed alcohol.
As the fan base has grown more diverse while expanding beyond the backwoods of America, some stereotypes still apply.
Most gearheads, as they affectionately are known, acquire vehicles without considering fuel economy. They vote Republican. Their iPod is partial to country music.
And they worship Dale Earnhardt Sr.
Ten years ago this weekend, old Dale had become the darling of Nascar. "The Intimidator", they lovingly called him, for bearing down on other drivers to get them out of the way. And tapping the rear bumper at 200mph - a tactic known as "swapping paint" - to those who refused.
That Sunday, Earnhardt was lead-footing it down the last lap of the Daytona 500 when he struck the wall and was killed instantly.
His legacy remains extra large. At this week's race, a moment of silence will be observed on the third lap for the guy whose cars bore No 3. Spectators will be invited to stand and raise three fingers.
Passions for Nascar have declined in recent years partly because nobody with Earnhardt's charisma has stepped into the void.
His son, Dale Jr, has been afforded every opportunity, from genes to financial resources, but he has proved lacking in one area: talent.
Earnhardt Jr did earn the pole position for Daytona, a mostly insignificant honour bestowed on the fastest qualifier. That means Junior will start the race first in line, which would be meaningful if they raced two laps instead of 200.
Jimmie Johnson, the circuit's dominant driver, has not even earned a nickname despite five consecutive championships. This streak has brought him recognition as America's most accomplished contemporary athlete, at least among those who regard turning a steering wheel to the left for a few hours at high speed as an act of athleticism.
The elder Earnhardt's main impact on Nascar was not realised until after his demise.
His on-the-job death prompted the sport's leadership to hit the accelerator on changes protecting drivers that already were in the works. They now wear a device attached to helmets to protect the skull. Cars are loaded with safety features that have saved lives in the decade since.
Risk remains, what with Nascar constantly rewriting the rules, even in mid-season, on caution flags and car specifications to maintain tightly bunched fields.
When a team tinkers enough in the garage to gain an edge, the innovation is inevitably squashed by a governing body that prefers to see operating costs curbed, plus wins dispersed among many drivers. (Which makes Johnson's reign all the more remarkable.)
Followers of Formula One in today's class might detect some differences with their preferred gas-guzzling endeavour. In F1 innovation is rewarded, a philosophy that inflates some team's budgets to rival those of a third world country. There is no paint-swapping; fans often need a wide-angle lens just to get two cars in the same frame.
Nascar, by contrast, celebrates side-by-side racing that even results in photo finishes, thoroughbred horse racing style. The 2007 Daytona race was determined by .02 seconds.
No dissimilarity between the sectors is more obvious than the cars' appearance. The bodies of Nascar vehicles resemble those that you drive to work or the grocery store, if you had painted sponsor logos on them. You would not dare take your high-tech, lightweight Formula One wheels on the freeway. The slightest accident would send your insurance premiums through the roof.
Formula One veterans who taste-test Nascar often find it difficult to swallow. Dario Franchitti took an unsuccessful spin. Juan Pablo Montoya persists, contending but rarely winning.
Oddest of all about Nascar, the season opens with the main event. Though a 10-race series at the back end called the Chase is designed to build to a climax, the Daytona 500 is the premier race on the card.
After Sunday, you might say, it is mostly downhill.
 
sports@thenational.ae