Dover underscores need to favorably manage failure

It was a four-hour, 400-mile, rolling course in crisis management. One by one, the title contenders in NASCAR's playoff took hits that on the surface seemed devastating -- a busted alternator, a flat tire, a broken bracket, a loose wheel -- only to use the misfortune of others as a crutch to prop themselves back up. By day's end, eight of the 12 drivers in the Chase for the Nextel Cup had suffered some kind of mishap. Each of them left Dover International Speedway with the knowledge that it could have been much, much worse.

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For all the talk of how crucial it is to run up front in the Chase -- and it is, given how the top 10 in any given event is often stacked with title contenders -- it's equally important to manage failure, a fact underscored again and again on one long, wreck-filled afternoon in central Delaware. Sunday was a reminder of the often arbitrary nature of auto racing, a sport where even the best drivers, mechanics and car builders only have so much within their control. A NASCAR racetrack under green is a chaotic and perilous place, populated by drivers of vastly different skill levels, and cars of varying degrees of strength. Collisions are inevitable. The only question is how serious the damage, both on the track and off.

It raises the specter of the one great flaw in the Chase, a system that narrows point margins to almost incomprehensible slimness, and provides its contenders with only a handful of events in which to make up ground. The possibility looms that Jeff Gordon or Jimmie Johnson or Tony Stewart could see their title hopes end because someone 42nd in points goes sideways in front of them. Just ask Kurt Busch, whose attempt at a repeat in 2005 ended because he tangled with Scott Riggs in the opener at Loudon and fell into too deep a hole. It's quite conceivable that someone like Paul Menard or David Reutimann could cut a tire at the worst possible moment, and inadvertently determine who sips champagne in Miami seven weeks from now.

But the strange thing about Dover was that most of the Chasers who found trouble only had themselves, or their team members, or happenstance to blame. Matt Kenseth's alternator went up in smoke. Denny Hamlin rammed into the back of Kyle Petty. Johnson lost two laps with a flat tire, while Kevin Harvick lost four with a loose wheel. Clint Bowyer broke a front bracket. Busch spun, igniting the biggest accident of the day. All of the title contenders knew going in that narrow, physical, high-banked Dover had the potential to cause calamity. They just didn't expect the place to claim so many of them at the same time.

It all added up to a race to see who could make the most out of the least. Wonder why teams work so furiously to get beat-up cars back onto the racetrack? Because of days like Sunday, when such quick-fixes can save a season. Every driver involved must have passed through a range of emotions, from anger to despondency to hope when he finally realized that so many others were in the same position. The Chase is no time for self-pity. In a playoff format where a mere 20 points seems like a huge lead, the ability to rebound and think clearly in the midst of struggle is as important as a 13-second pit stop.

"It's tough," Johnson admits. "It's one of the most challenging things I've ever done, and I think my experience last year in the Chase and winning the Chase has helped me a lot for this year as far as mental approach and mindset. I think that really gives the advantage to past champions. I'm not saying a guy like Denny [Hamlin] or Clint Bowyer, who's really young in this sport, can't do it. But it's a tough, tough deal to fight through week after week. Experience helps. You find all the good things out about yourself, and even the bad."

This Sunday offers something of a respite, a Kansas Speedway as wide as the prairie that surrounds it. But the big test still looms. Sinister Talladega, that car-flipping dream crusher, is up next week. Break out the duct tape and the hammers, boys. It's about time to go back to work.

The ratings game

Ratings for NASCAR television broadcasts continue to trend downward, and everybody has a theory as to why. Some blame later starting times. Others say too many events are on cable. There's the theory that Dale Earnhardt Jr.'s struggles have fans of the sport's most popular driver clicking off the TV.

But it's important to realize that NASCAR does not exist in a vacuum. Television ratings for virtually all sports have dropped, a likely casualty of more channels and more choices. Some like the NHL and NBA have tanked, exposing serious flaws in the way those leagues are marketed or presented. The lone exception has been the NFL, the bedrock of American sports television, as much a lock as Kenseth's pit crew late in a close race.

Not anymore. According to Mediaweek, ratings for Sunday and Monday prime-time telecasts are down from last year. They're wondering if the matchups haven't been as compelling, or if close baseball races are taking their toll. But the bottom line is that what NASCAR is suffering through is not unique. "It's not just an NFL or a sports-related issue," one analyst told the magazine. "It's an overall TV issue."

Missed metaphors

The metaphor, a literary device that uses one thing to represent something else, is a tool writers have relied on for ages. Ernest Hemingway was a master of the technique; virtually everything in his novella The Old Man and the Sea is a metaphor, from an ocean that represents life to the sought-after marlin that represents the title character's fragile emotional state. We're not comparing ourselves to Papa or anything, but we here at NASCAR.COM's mustard-based barbecue bureau try to learn from the best.

This past Saturday's column on Earnhardt being the houseguest who wouldn't leave was one extended metaphor, with the driver kicking back on the couch and asking for a Bud representative of the story that's dominated this season. The whole thing was written with tongue planted firmly in cheek. To those of you who got it, kudos. To those of you who didn't -- well, there wasn't exactly any need for something like this:

"If you and your wife [who appears from your article is even less understanding about your job than you are] don't like what you do, go back to the local radio station or newspaper and cover the comings and goings of Barney and Opie," wrote Pete from California. "Stop whining about having to do your job. Which is exactly how your recent article read, although I suspect that you were trying to make a joke."

Or this: "You are an a------!," wrote Monica. "So Junior's move to [Hendrick Motorsports], while I hate it, interfered with your summer. Boo hoo. You're supposed to be a sports writer, and these things happen. If it's such an inconvenience you may want to rethink your career choice. Perhaps a new career at McDonald's, greeter at Wal-Mart, another yes-man for Teresa [Earnhardt] at TEI. Maybe those wouldn't interfere with your life. I know I certainly wouldn't miss your opinions."

Or this: "You should be glad your BlackBerry buzzes at all," wrote an anonymous e-mailer. "If it weren't for Junior and the likes of the popular crowd, you wouldn't have a job! Stop busting on the guy. Drink the AMP, ditch the cute little designer glasses and comb your hair, or fire the person that 'styles' it."

Or this: "Your analogy of Jr. is disgusting," wrote Rich. "Sounds like something that you would find in Oprah Magazine, not NASCAR. But that seems to be the way NASCAR is headed, pity. Many journalists or fans would give their right arm to have a gig following NASCAR. Not you, too much of a burden on you. Just remember, you would not have anything to poorly write about without those driver announcements. With all said, the whole article sounded like a bad attempt at a freshman high school English assignment. I think Oprah is hiring. Ughh."

Sorry to disappoint, folks, but the 24/7 nature of this job is one reason we do it. It beats sitting behind a desk. And if you'll read again more closely, you'll discover that Junior was painted as a pretty good guy, which he is. We were poking fun not at him, but at the news cycle that surrounds him, while at the same time trying to say thanks to one person who's suffered patiently through it all. Now, may I suggest picking up a copy of The Sun Also Rises at your local library?

The opinions expressed are solely of the writer.