Growth, progress change racing's dynamic

By DAVID GREEN

As auto racing has grown in widespread mainstream popularity over the past couple of decades, it occurs to me that the sport finally seems to be transcending the image of something that appeals to bloodthirsty thrill-seekers, with regard to participants and fans alike.

The specter is not completely gone, of course; as long as there is an Independent Florida Alligator out there seeking to publish autopsy photographs, we can assume there's a segment of the population that wants to see such images. And some of them may, in fact, be among the motor sport audience.

Perhaps the ambulance chasers have finally realized that there just isn't enough carnage to satisfy them. And so, the debate has moved on into a critique of the on-track racing action, and just what constitutes a "good" race.

Some people see it as a numbers game -- how many passes for the lead, how many passes for position, how many cars, how many finishing on the lead lap, margins of victory, et cetera. Some remember especially dramatic finishes.

Some just get their kicks from watching on-the-edge performances by drivers in high performance machines. Those who fit into that category have an intuitive or a first-hand understanding of how difficult those performances can be, and how drastic the consequences of a minor error.

Nothing does quite as good a job of reminding older fans what it was like in the old days as Chris Economaki's autobiography, "Let 'Em All Go," co-authored by my pal Dave Argabright. The dean of auto racing writers, Chris has first-hand experience that dates back to the Great Depression era. He describes without euphemism how cruel the sport could be, and states frankly how those who loved it did so in spite of the harsh toll it often exacted.

Those of us who defended racing against the accusations that it was a "Roman circus" type activity always pointed out that even among the fans with a bit of morbid curiosity, the desire was to watch a driver cheat death, not be claimed by it.

Perhaps the sanitizing of the sport has stolen some of the magic of watching professional drivers do what they do. There's still a considerable degree of risk in the sport, but it's not as obvious as it used to be. Many new fans, I suspect, don't realize this.

Racing had to improve its safety margins, and it has done so. Growth in popularity was tied to the premise that it distance itself from those dangerous old days.

The change in spectator attitude was probably inevitable, too.