Columnist Ron Kantowski: NASCAR swears it wants to keep its motor mouths in check

Monday, Oct. 11, 2004 | 10:04 a.m.

Ron Kantowski is a Las Vegas Sun sports writer. Reach him at ron@lasvegassun.com or (702) 259-4088.

Unless "Holy Moley" can be classified as a swearword, the potty-mouths who drive stock cars for a living managed to leave Kansas Speedway Sunday without making NASCAR test its most recent safety innovation, the 5-second tape delay.

A few moments -- and 5 seconds -- after climbing out his car in victory lane, race winner Joe Nemechek used the term "Holy Moley" to describe the closing rate of second-place finisher Ricky Rudd. But you won't find that expression among George Carlin's "Seven Words You Can Never Say on Television."

Unless you count grievous use of the pseudo-contraction "y'all" and the reluctance of the dozen or so drivers NBC interviewed to match subjects with predicates, Nemechek's interjection was the closest thing to a blasphemy uttered during the entire telecast.

It was like the set of Mister Rogers' neighborhood as not a single cuss word was spoken. No one took the name of God -- or Dale Earnhardt, roughly his equivalent south of the Mason-Dixon line -- in vain. And other than the clothes that Jimmy Spencer wore to the track, there were no wardrobe malfunctions.

That wasn't the case at Talladega last week when the Son of Earnhardt, Dale Jr., used the first word on Carlin's taboo list when an NBC reporter asked him about the significance of winning yet another restrictor plate race in Alabama.

"It don't mean - - - - because Daddy's won here 10 times," Junior said.

Just a few days before, Junior had made National Enquirer-type headlines when he insisted on CBS' "60 Minutes Wednesday" that it was his late father who had pulled him from the wreckage of his burning sports car during a NASCAR off weekend this summer. It's too bad, then, that he also didn't intervene and zip Junior's lip during last weekend's TV interview.

Had that happened, his offspring would be in better position to win the stock car racing championship that his old man won seven times.

Earnhardt was fined $10,000, which means nothing to him, in that he can make that much by signing his name to an exhaust pipe. He also was docked 25 points in the championship which means so much more, given it allowed Las Vegan Kurt Busch to scoot past him into the lead in the race for the coveted Nextel Cup.

If Earnhardt is a NASCAR deity, then Busch, along with Tony Stewart, are its anti-Christs. If you really want to hear a stream of expletives that would do a sailor or rap star proud, turn an ear toward NASCAR headquarters in Daytona Beach if Busch hangs on to win the title thanks to Little E's poor choice of words.

Not that I found what Earnhardt said offensive. For starters, I'm a newspaperman. I've said much worse than that when stumped for an adjective, with Carlin's fourth, fifth and sixth banned words, in particular, coming to mind. That would be the magic word, the one you usually save for the end of the argument, and the two with all the consonants.

And in Earnhardt's case, he used the obscenity to express joy, not frustration over some guy named Darrell or Rusty riding his bumper. But NASCAR was in a tough spot, because earlier this year it had docked drivers in its Busch series 25 points each for using vulgarities during live interviews. Precedent had been set.

Already fighting a perception that it plays favorites -- in fact, there are some who contend this new 10-race chase for the championship is simply a way for NASCAR to give stars like Earnhardt a second chance to win the cup until his crew figures out a setup for the 1.5-mile tracks -- the sanctioning body had no choice but to be consistent.

But why it didn't opt for the 5-second solution until now was more shortsighted than Mister Magoo's night vision. Name another pro sport where a team is penalized on the field (or in the standings) for something that happens away from it.

"The reason we got into penalizing points as opposed to just money was because penalizing money was not getting the job done," NASCAR spokesman Jim Hunter said Saturday. "Whether you agree or disagree, we promote this sport as a family sport."

Well, not to all families, at least based on the confederate flags that are still seen flying in the infield at NASCAR races. But that's another issue.

The bottom line of this one is that if NASCAR isn't careful, it is going to turn some of its more colorful characters, the kind of personalities around which the sport was built, into Stepford Wives.

It used to be the beauty of the victory lane celebration was that it captured the spontaneity and emotion of the moment. Now, drivers are told to remain in their cars until the fireworks and confetti guns are cued and the guys with the Gatorade and sponsor caps get into position.

And so it would appear in its new corporate makeover, NASCAR is in jeopardy of trading in its tank top and cutoffs for a starched collar and pleated slacks. What's next? Wine and cheese in the concession stands?

But even if stock car racing has become a business where it once was a sport, at least guys like Earnhardt Jr., and Stewart always said what was on their minds, and fans either loved them or loathed them for it.

Now, NASCAR wants to turn them into Wally Cleaver clones. With Jeff Gordon as "The Beaver."

"So, Dale, what it's like to win for the fifth time at Talladega?"

"Aw, shucks, it's neat and junk. But that sure is a becoming fire suit you're wearing, Mr. Weber."

"Excuse me, Junior. I've just been notified that NASCAR has fined Eddie Haskell $10,000 and docked him 25 championship points for telling Lumpy Rutherford that Robby Gordon is a "creep." Your reaction, son."

"Holy Moley, Mr. Weber!"

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