All-star race isn't perfect, but it's not short on effort

In auto racing, the entire concept of an all-star event is ridiculous. The real lure of any such contest is the rare chance to see the sport's greats together in the same arena, something that happens in NASCAR every time cars hit the track. It's not as if the folks in Dover or Phoenix are denied the opportunity to watch Jeff Gordon mix it up with Tony Stewart. The drivers competing Saturday night are the same ones competing every weekend, a fact that makes the Nextel All-Star Challenge feel like a made-for-television version of the standard Sunday show.

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But danged if the players involved don't embrace it. Drivers love the chance to race for $1 million and no points, even if penalties -- remember Kurt Busch's intentional spin of Robby Gordon? -- can be levied as if it's the USG Sheetrock 400. Lowe's Motor Speedway, the metro Charlotte track that's been home to the race for all but one of its 22 years, has done a fine job of cultivating it into a major event, even if it's supposed to replicate heat racing at a Saturday night short track. Yeah, a short track with 170,000 seats.

The concept has always been a good one -- force some guys to race their way in, put a lot of money on the line, and hope for the kind of sheet-metal-bending spectacular often found on weekly tracks among drivers who really need the cash. It's produced a few truly iconic moments, like Gordon winning in a backup car in 2001 and Dale Earnhardt sliding through the tri-oval grass to victory in 1987. Yet it's always come across as a little awkward, as evidenced by the almost annual format changes. Two decades they've been running it, and they still haven't gotten it quite right.

At its best, the Challenge -- known as The Winston until cigarette maker R.J. Reynolds bowed out of the sport in 2003 -- can produce thrilling, almost reckless action like Dale Earnhardt Jr.'s charge to the front in 2000. At its worst, it can be a cacophony of overproduction and noise, the event itself drowned out by mosh-pit team introductions, TV talking heads babbling on during the interminable segment breaks, and the Red Hot Chili Peppers running too long. Now it's been shunted off to SPEED, a network many fans can't get on basic cable. Can you imagine Major League Baseball doing that? (Continued)