For NASCAR, the glass ceiling has always been the sports-talk radio dial. For some strange reason this country developed general sports fans and racing fans, two camps that exude similar passions but often an odd disdain for one another. Chairman Brian France has tried to close that gap, to get NASCAR into the conversation on sports-talk radio alongside every other game. But it's not an easy, or always welcome, endeavor. When ESPN broke away from a race last season to provide an update on Barry Bonds' home run chase, some irate race fans acted as if the Giants outfielder had spun out Jeff Gordon.

So this is still a sport that exists primarily within its own bubble, piquing the interest of the casual sports fan chiefly during extraordinary times -- the Daytona 500, Dale Earnhardt Jr.'s move to Hendrick Motorsports, Juan Montoya's victory at Sonoma, Michael McDowell's spectacular crash at Texas. Now the sport is on the brink of another one of those times thanks to Mauricia Grant's $225 million lawsuit against NASCAR, a complaint that charges a pattern of racial and sexual harassment at the hands of her fellow officials on what is now called the Nationwide Series.

It's a sensational 40-page document, one some national columnists have already dug into, one more casual sports fans and mainstream sports writers are certain to discover. People who have never been to a racetrack, who will never go to a racetrack, are going to opine that the details in Grant's lawsuit reinforce every racist, redneck stereotype you've ever heard about the sport. All the diversity initiatives the series has rolled out over the years are going to be shot down by one complaint filed in the U.S. District Court for the Southern District of New York.

Because when it comes to NASCAR, just the perception of racism is damaging enough. This is a sport that, regardless of the programs it's implemented to try and diversify its competitive base, still has one strike against it in many minds because of its all-white (save Montoya) driver lineup. No matter that individual teams hire those drivers. No matter that there are several minority team executives, crew members or Sprint Cup officials working today. No matter that the garage has far more faces of color in it than it did just a decade ago. People with no connection to or no interest in this sport are going to read about one official allegedly sending Grant racist text messages, or another allegedly boasting about friends in the Ku Klux Klan, or another allegedly exposing himself to her, and think -- well, that's NASCAR for you. Which is sad.

Is Grant telling the truth? That's for a jury to decide, if it gets that far. She and her attorney certainly seem to be overreaching, watering down their argument by interpreting such things as a warning to be careful in Mexico City, remarks about Grant's Los Angeles hometown, comments from fans or compliments on Grant's appearance as racist or sexist in nature. The complaint is often quite vague on dates. And it's riddled with errors -- no, Grant did not work the Daytona 500, the former Busch Series did not have an all-star race, and Martinsville Speedway is not in South Carolina, all things mentioned in the complaint. Certainly, those mistakes seem small when compared to the allegations. But attorneys can use anything to chip away at credibility.

And then there's the requested $225 million in compensatory and punitive damages, an amount so exorbitant, it automatically raises questions as to the motive of an official who was fired by NASCAR for unspecified reasons in 2007. "Graphic and lewd jokes? She participated in them," Mike Wilford, a former official named in the complaint, told The Associated Press. "She laughed, she would never say it was inappropriate."

But this isn't about money. This is about reputation. If some of Grant's fellow Busch officials did act like the drunken frat boys they're painted as in the complaint, a sport that's always said the right things about becoming more diverse suffers a serious black eye. Because on the subject of race, NASCAR has zero room for error. Everyone who wears the circuit's logo on their shirt needs to understand that, or find someplace else to work. Something like what's alleged in Grant's complaint can happen in the NFL, and people will accept that it was the result of a few blockheads with primitive worldviews and poor senses of humor. But it happens in NASCAR and it's viewed as a sign of something endemic, even if it's not.

France, to his credit, seems to realize the stakes. In the wake of Grant's lawsuit, the chairman reportedly sent an e-mail to all NASCAR employees reminding them of the importance of fostering a more diverse workplace. As he surely knows, diversity is good business. Nothing would do more to expand NASCAR's fan base than a few more faces of color in the garage area, or one behind the wheel. People in NASCAR want to see that happen. In the decade I've covered this sport, I've gotten the sense that series executives and even team owners want very deeply to see more diversity within their ranks. Of course, I don't hang out with Nationwide Series officials very often, either.

Even if Grant drops her lawsuit tomorrow, she's still dredged up the old racial demons -- Wendell Scott not getting his trophy, Confederate flags in the infield, fans saying the sport was "no place for n-----s" during a 2001 MTV documentary on Dale Jr. -- that NASCAR executives have worked for so long to shake. If she's right, and all these appalling things did indeed happen, then the sanctioning body needs to settle this and roll out a host of new diversity initiatives to show the organization's dedication to the cause. But if she's lying, if all of these lurid allegations are shot down, then NASCAR needs to countersue. For defamation of character.

The opinions expressed are solely those of the writer.