2005 Ad

While most cars are spinning practice laps at Daytona International Speedway, Jeff Gordon's No. 24 Chevy sits on jacks in its garage stall. The driver is nowhere to be seen. But even if he wants to get into his car. he can't--his crew has taped thick film across the driver's side window for protection while the left rear corner is sanded and painted. The team doesn't want fumes or dust to distract its driver.

Distract Jeff Gordon? Not a chance. Gordon drives as though he's the only person in the world, impervious to bad situations and tough races and ferocious competition. His win in the Daytona 500 last Sunday stands as a prime example.

"Those are the moments you live for." Gordon says. "Those are the moments we get paid the big bucks for. You live to be in that position--to have chaos happening all around you and to have your car lead the pack. When you get in that position, you better make darn sure nobody passes you. Being up front is the only place to be."

He is so dialed-in inside the car, so focused on winning his third 500, that, after the race, he isn't entirely sure of the sequence of events that takes him to victory lane. For the record, he passed Tony Stewart, who led the most laps, and Dale Earnhardt Jr., who won the race last year, and held off Kurt Busch, the reigning Nextel Cup champion, in a thrilling ending to a fabulous season-opening race.

At the postrace news conference, the noise floating into the dusk air in Daytona is beautiful. As the echoes of the engines fade, only the voices remain, and they are a wonderful combination of twang, polish and subject-verb disagreements. It isn't what they say as much as what they don't say.

The postrace talk is refreshing because there are few distractions: Nothing about preparing for a season with the Chase; nothing about those 25 stupid points Jamie McMurray lost for a mis-sized window on a car that didn't race; no algorithms about how such-and-such and who-dee-who can move up in the points race. Dating back to last summer, all the talk has been about points, points, points, and then more about the points. (And a little about Junior cussing.) But Sunday is different. All they talk about is cars and racing. (And sponsors, of course.

Finally.

If the sport is looking for an encore after last season's controversy and excitement, a dynamic Daytona 500 is a good way to start. NASCAR's four most popular drivers--Earnhardt, Gordon, Stewart and Jimmie Johnson--and Busch fight for the lead right until the end. The winner isn't decided until the final laps. And thus begins the second season of the Nextel Cup era.

The sport is entering the calm waters of minor tweaks after a storm of change last season. NASCAR did something with the gear ratio, whatever that is. The spoilers are shorter, but only by an inch, and the tires are softer, the total impact of all this being you stopped reading this sentence several words ago.

Other than that, there is very little administrative business to distract us, which is good news. Let's hope NASCAR keeps it that way. Let's all make a solemn oath to never again bring up how the drivers would have finished under the old points system. Let's instead concentrate again on what makes NASCAR so intriguing: the wicked-fast cars and the men who drive them and the spectacle that is the Daytona 500.

Daytona USA is a hands-on tourist attraction devoted to NASCAR. Located just outside Turn 4 at Daytona International Speedway, the car of the most recent Daytona 500 winner is on exhibit. In the days leading up to the 2005 race, Junior's red and white No. 8, winner of the 2004 race, sits like a magnetic statue, attracting drivers and crew chiefs, some of whom reportedly carry camera phones.

On the Thursday before the race, No. 9 driver Kasey Kahne and team owner Ray Evernham--twice the winner of the Daytona 500 as a crew chief with Gordon--walk around the No. 8, the looks on their faces a combination of muted reverence, awe and curiosity. Before reading all the names on the Daytona 500 trophy, they check out the left front tire--they think the wheel might have been one of theirs. (Teams often trade such items.) As Kahne and Evernham wait to file into an auditorium at Daytona USA, Ryan Newman emerges from the auditorium and gives the car a once-over, perhaps looking for clues to make his No. 12 Dodge faster, perhaps looking for inspiration.

Entering the race, Newman could use the help. Though he was strong in Speedweeks, leading his qualifying race before finishing fourth, he has struggled at restrictor plate races. Two years ago at the Daytona 500, he barrel-rolled and finished 43rd. Last year, he finished 31st.

Whatever insight Newman and Kahne gain, it doesn't matter. After meeting coincidentally at Daytona USA on Thursday, the two meet again on Sunday--in a nine-car accident on lap 189. Newman finishes 20th, Kahne 22nd.

If you want to understand how the sport's best driver-crew chief relationship works, picture this: Jimmie Johnson and Chad Knaus crouch in the garage after a practice session. Over Johnson's left shoulder is a window pressed with the faces of fans watching intently. In front of the pair is a garage opening full of distracting photographers. All around them No. 48 team crew members scurry about, taking measurements, writing notes and making changes to the car. It is no place to have a coherent, complex discussion.