Columnist Dean Juipe: Auto racing mystifies its detractors

Dean Juipe

Monday, Feb. 21, 2000 | 10:04 a.m.

Dean Juipe's column appears Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. His boxing notebook appears Thursday. Reach him at juipe@vegas.com or 259-4084.

An ad during Sunday's telecast of the Daytona 500 spoke volumes without saying a word.

It was purely visual and, except for its subliminal value, it completely neglected its sponsor, Conseco Financial Services.

It went something like this, with lines of type providing its message:

"It's not a real sport."

"It's just guys driving in a circle."

"They aren't real athletes."

Then it closed with an impersonal "We don't hear you," reflecting the deaf ear auto racing fans take toward criticism of their precious pastime.

Three-quarters of the ad definitely was true: Auto racing shouldn't be called a sport; it is awfully tedious; and there's nothing athletic about it.

Nonetheless, auto racing is widely popular and hugely profitable for those involved. It's also excessively dangerous, and therein lies its appeal.

Before they had cars ramming into each other on some high speed death chase, mankind used Christians and lions for spectacle. They called that a sport, too.

Civilization having advanced only slightly, today men volunteer to strap themselves into these land-based cockpits for an oval ride designed to thrill a bloodthirsty audience. The only difference between today and the Romans' heyday is that the survivors of these sometimes monotonous, sometimes gruesome gawk fests are paid for performing.

Some even see them as heroes, as if navigating a souped-up Ford at 190 miles per hour is the ultimate test of a man's courage and resolve.

Auto racing fans are addictive in many regards. They can't get enough information on their favorite drivers and they'll buy anything from ashtrays to jackets if it has their man's likeness, name or vehicle preference on it.

They devour meaningless tidbits and take it personal when a driver changes something as insidious as the color of his car.

And for those auto racing fans who can read, newspapers like this one are providing an increasing amount of space to covering the races and profiling the participants.

There's no denying auto racing has exploded, even if those of us who fail to see its allure are left to ponder just what we've missed. (When Sunday's "race" ended during the crawl of a caution flag and with Dale Jarrett ahead, ascertaining racing's appeal became an even greater challenge. What kind of "sport" would allow such an anti-climactic finish to an event billed as its Super Bowl?)

The trouble with auto racing, aside from the fact it's 'round and 'round they go, are the endless accidents and tragedies that pile upon one another until all but the most recent one is forgotten. At Daytona it was a horrific crash during a Friday truck race that involved 13 vehicles and injured nine spectators when debris flew into the grandstand.

Oh boy, that's fun.

But the fans (and media members) don't want to put a face on the heartbreaks. One driver after another gets seriously injured -- such as Henderson's Sam Schmidt becoming a paraplegic this winter -- and the accompanying sadness is limited to a short shelf life that doesn't do justice to the pain that the driver and his family will feel forever.

The fact that fallen drivers like Schmidt have only themselves to blame is no consolation.

After all, you paid your money and he took his chances.