Living the NASCAR life: can you exist on nothing but products involved with NASCAR? Our intrepid reported finds out

Sporting News, The, April 29, 2005 by Matt Crossman

Just past midnight, in the wee hours of Friday morning, I started to doubt the wisdom of basing my entire existence on using nothing but NASCAR products. Bristol Motor Speedway is a long way from my house in St. Louis, and I was sick of driving, even though I was riding in style in a tricked-out 2005 Ford F-150 (official pickup truck). Making matters worse: I was 530 miles into a 500-mile trip.

I was lost.

I didn't have a map.

And my cell phone was dying.

As I white-knuckled the mammoth truck through a switchback, I remained intent on proving my hypothesis: Over a race weekend, I could eat, wear, consume and buy nothing but NASCAR products. It would be just like Super Size Me, only without the health risks and weight gain.

I finally found my Best Western (official hotel), and the next day I started the NASCAR routine. For the next four days, my mornings consisted of putting on Old Spice (official deodorant), using an Oral-B toothbrush and toothpaste (official oral care products), shaving with Gillette (official shaving products) and putting on a NASCAR golf shirt and Levi's (official jeans). To answer your next question, Fruit of the Loom is a sponsor for Robby Gordon.

Because there is no official NASCAR milk and I didn't want to put Powerade (official sports beverage) on my Kellogg's (official cereal), I ate breakfast at McDonald's (team sponsor) every day. Leaving the F-150 at the hotel, I drove a 2005 Chevrolet Monte Carlo (official pace car) to and from the track.

If you learn nothing else from this story, learn this: I'll do anything for freebies. No, wait--learn this: NASCAR is not what it used to be.

The days of the sport being solely sponsored by beer, automotive and tobacco companies have been gone for a long time. NASCAR's move to the mainstream was accelerated even further when Brian France became chairman and Nextel became the title sponsor.

It seems quaint that, a year and a half ago, a cigarette company was the title sponsor of NASCAR's top circuit. Nicorette is a sponsor now, and 1,100 companies are involved either with NASCAR or a team. Of those, 102 are Fortune 500 companies.

The cars steal the show

On the way from the hotel to the track on Friday, I filled up at R&S Sunoco (official fuel) in Abingdon, Va. Whatever bad mood lingered from the night before evaporated while I was at R&S. It sounds silly, but this five-minute stop (and two subsequent visits) brightened my trip. You know you've found a good place when the sign outside says, "Coming April 1, Free Gas. Inquire inside."

Raymond Hurd, the owner of the station, was impressed by my Monte Carlo. Did I mention it was painted like the No. 99 Busch Series Best Western car? Trust me; if you want to draw attention to yourself, drive a car that looks like a racecar.

The car represented my most blatant partisanship. Other than that, I didn't favor any one driver, unless you count my Tony Stewart belt, Mark Martin Velcro wallet and just-in-case Dale Earnhardt Jr. flashlight with Duracells (official alkaline batteries).

I drive like a maniac when I cover a race, just like golf writers whisper and baseball writers take steroids. To help, Hurd suggested places to open up the Monte Carlo. Abingdon is in the Appalachians, with highways full of twists, turns, inclines, declines and cops.

Because I would drive the 144-mile round trip from Abingdon to Bristol three days in a row, I needed to know about the local law. A cop wouldn't bust me in this fake racecar, would he? "Not unless he's by himself," Hurd said, "or with somebody."

Thanks, Raymond, but I'll handle the jokes around here.

My NASCAR-logoed vehicles were great icebreakers all weekend. The Ford F-150, customized NASCAR style by American Specialty Trucks, got this: "That's one pimp-ass truck, for real," from a tongue-ringed guy at a Chevron (team sponsor) in Indiana. Dave Baker of Fremont, Ohio, who saw me pull the Monte Carlo up to the hotel, told me he painted his wife's 1987 Thunderbird like Davey Allison's Texaco car. I gave two guys a ride to the track in the 99 car after they hooted at me. They said to call them "two nitwits from New Hampshire." As those Nextel (official series sponsor) commercials say: Done.

Fully vested

Friday was qualifying day, which doesn't get much attention at most tracks. Bristol is not most tracks. It's the Lambeau Field of NASCAR, only more than twice as big.

On race weekend, eastern Tennessee is a NASCAR petri dish. I was living the NASCAR life on a lark---I mean, a Serious Journalistic Investigation--but many fans live the NASCAR life, too, albeit on a smaller scale.

They wear drivers' shirts and hats and use the products drivers endorse. The result: endlessly ringing cash registers. NASCAR says the sport's average fan spends $700 a year on tickets and merchandise. And that's just the NASCAR stuff. Fans line up in front of drivers' merchandise trailers week after week.

NASCAR and the sponsors won't say how much an official sponsorship costs, but one source puts the figure at $3 million to $5 million. The numbers are elusive because sponsors don't want competitors to know how much they're spending. And NASCAR protects its privacy on these matters like a cornered Little E fan protects the last Budweiser (official beer) at the Sunoco APlus (official convenience store).