Six years ago, Andy Petree's organization was the little team that could. From a shop in out-of-the-way Flat Rock, N.C., he employed more than 100 people who built cars that contended for race wins on NASCAR's premier series. In the 2001 season, both of his entries reached Victory Lane.

One year later, the sponsorship was gone and soon after, Petree, a former championship crew chief, was out of the team ownership business altogether.

"The last year we had two teams, we won races with both of them, and we still were not able to find sponsors that we could put on those cars to keep them going," he said. "I guess one of the issues is how much money it takes to make it work. That number today, I guess, is no less than $10 million, and maybe $15 million or more to make these things work. It's so hard to find companies that are willing."

Petree, now a television analyst for ESPN, was a victim of the sponsorship shortage that gripped NASCAR earlier this decade, when the financial slowdown following the Sept. 11, 2001 terrorist attacks on New York and Washington led corporations to slash their marketing budgets. But now, the economy is relatively healthy. The Dow Jones industrial index on Wednesday was above 13,000. And yet mid-level teams on the Nextel Cup circuit still sometimes find themselves unable to procure the levels of sponsorship necessary to compete with larger, better-funded organizations for race wins.

That lack of sponsorship has helped drive the wave of mergers and partnerships sweeping across NASCAR, as teams with less financial means look to align with teams with more. Robert Yates Racing, which last week partnered with the Newman/Haas/Lanigan open-wheel team, essentially has one company -- MasterFoods, which makes both M&Ms and Snickers candies -- backing both its Nextel Cup cars. And Ginn Racing was absorbed by Dale Earnhardt Inc. after being unable to find sponsors for two of its three racecars.

Would the merger have happened had Ginn been able to find sponsorship? "Probably not," admitted Jay Frye, the Ginn team's former general manager. For teams without sponsorship, it's a dangerous cycle. They need to be able to run well to impress potential sponsors, but it's hard to run well without financial backing. And the worse they run, the more difficult those sponsors are to attain.

"It's almost like which came first, we didn't have enough money so we didn't run well enough, or we didn't run well enough so we didn't get money?" Petree asked. "It's so difficult to be competitive when this sport is changing and everything is developing so fast. You have to be able to stay ahead of the curve when you can't put the money to it. Bobby Ginn tried to do that, but when the sponsorships don't come through, what do you do? You have to scale back, and performance suffers, and morale suffers."

Even mid-level teams that have sponsors feel the crunch. The consensus within the garage area today is that teams need three to four fully-funded cars to make their financial model work, especially with NASCAR's four-car limit looming. Everybody has eyes on expansion. But gone are the halcyon days of the late 1990s, when sponsorships were a relative bargain, and the rocketing success of NASCAR was good enough to convince companies to put their name on almost any car. Then came Viagra and UPS, which considerably upped the ante. Then came the post-9/11 slowdown, which drove a host of companies like McDonald's, John Deere, Amoco and Exide out of the sport.

Now, with it costing between $15 and $20 million to back a racecar, companies are much more selective. "The prices have risen to their choking point," said Max Muhleman, a consultant and marketer who specializes in motorsports.

"Twenty million dollars for the good teams and $15 million for the pretty good teams is a staggering amount when you consider the fact that the sponsors probably have to spend nearly that much, if not that much again in support of their program. You can buy an awful lot of CBS or ESPN for $20 million or even $10 million. The higher the prices go, the more alternatives the sponsors have."

And mid-level teams are caught in kind of a sponsorship no-man's land. Mike Brown is general manager of Bill Davis Racing, an organization that won the Daytona 500 in 2002 and has been rebuilding under the Toyota banner. The Davis team, Brown said, needs two or three fully-funded cars to be able to compete with bigger organizations in terms of manpower and resources. But sponsors are scared by the top 35 rule, which states that cars outside the top 35 in owner points aren't guaranteed a starting spot. And, now exposure isn't enough -- they want to win.

"As times have gotten more competitive economically, a lot [of companies] can afford to do it. But they're all looking for that top-10 opportunity. A lot of people come to you and say, 'You've had a successful company, you've been competitive, you've won races, but can you guarantee us a top 10 or 15 spot in the points?' That's why a lot of teams who are in that position, and currently have a top-10 team, can go sell something," Brown said.

"Everybody wants to come in at the top level. The problem that you have with new sponsors is, everybody that's in the top 10 or 12 in points has sponsors, and they're not going away because they have exactly what they're looking for. The challenge for us in attracting new sponsors is finding a way to convince them that it's going to be good for their company, and that we can find the right resources and find the right driver who can give them exactly what they need."

That's not an easy thing to do in an atmosphere where sponsors seem to be clamoring to align with contending teams, while mid-level organizations -- some even capable of winning races -- are left banging on doors. The trend now is for teams like Hendrick Motorsports or Roush Fenway Racing to collect an array of sponsors that split time on cars. Sometimes, it's because the price is higher than a single sponsor is willing to pay. Other times, it's because a sponsor would rather be involved with a top driver on a limited basis than back a full season with a lesser-known one.

"A deal with Kyle Busch or somebody like that for a few races," Petree said, "sometimes is more appealing to some sponsors than putting their name on a car all year long."

You wind up with a game of sponsorship musical chairs. Busch's car is backed by Kellogg's and Carquest. Casey Mears' car is sponsored by both the National Guard and GMAC. Nicorette and Pepsi make select appearance as Jeff Gordon's primary sponsor. Carhartt, Arby's, R and L Carriers and USG Sheetrock spilt time with primary DeWalt on Matt Kenseth's hood. Greg Biffle is sponsored sometimes by Aflac, sometimes by Jackson Hewitt, sometimes by 3M. Reese's will occasionally replace Shell-Pennzoil on Kevin Harvick's car.

Of the top 12 drivers in points, only four -- Denny Hamlin, Tony Stewart, Jimmie Johnson and Dale Earnhardt Jr. -- have had the same sponsor, or variations of that sponsor, on their car in all 20 races this year. The other eight drivers have used 25 sponsors between them.

"That's a reflection of the price," Muhleman said. "The teams can't get people to pay the $15 to $18 million individual sponsorships they get for a whole car. They don't want a whole one; I'll give you a half of one. The sponsors don't want to put so much of their advertising money into one racing team. They figure with a little creative construction and marketing, the teams can come up with a package and say, we'll get you this many driver appearances, you get this many races with your car, we'll do this many races for you. It's a conversation that shrinks the benefit, but still gives a certain segment of them."

For a race team, it's not an ideal setup. Having a collection of three or four sponsors means three or four times the service required to take care of them. It means more sponsors wanting to give garage tours or get face time with drivers on Sunday mornings. But for a sponsor, it's an opportunity to play in the big time, use Kenseth or Harvick in advertising and promotional material, and not have to pay for the whole year.

"I think it's a lot easier for a sponsor to take a lesser role and have that guarantee that they're going to get what they're looking for, because they can activate that for the entire season, even if they're only doing a 10- or 12-race package," Brown said. "They can still do hospitality every week. And the price has gotten to the point where it may take multiple sponsors to get the $18-25 million that everybody needs and is asking for. In one way, it's scary that only four or five car owners are going to be the only ones who survive, because they're the ones who can put it together."

What might change that? Perception, Brown said.

"Even if maybe Matt Kenseth has another sponsor on his car, I think even from a fan perspective and even inside the garage, it's still the No. 17 DeWalt car," Brown said. "So I think sponsors will start to see, yeah, it's a feel-good thing, we've got Matt Kenseth for 10 races. But I think everybody still thinks that's the DeWalt car, just like everyone thinks the 24 is the DuPont car. Even though they ran Pepsi, fans would be hard-pressed to know where. That might bring it full circle."