Racing loyalty often found in the eye of the beholder (cont'd)

The danger with loyalty is that it's such an emotional thing, and success in sports often requires cold, rational thinking. Sometimes, the only way to get better is to break with somebody or something that's been a part of your organization for a long time, even if such a move risks raising the ire of ticket holders. That's essentially what Joe Gibbs Racing did prior to the 2008 season, when it jumped to Toyota after 16 years of affiliation with GM brands Chevrolet and Pontiac. The move was a complete no-brainer, allowing Gibbs to not only leap off a crowded GM totem pole and become a flagship team in its own right, but also to align itself with a manufacturer that wasn't headed for a financial meltdown. The results, 13 race victories and three Chase berths to date, speak for themselves.

And yet, among the hardcore faithful, Gibbs was derided. Why? Because he was perceived as being disloyal to longtime partner GM. He was even perceived as being disloyal to America, because he partnered with a manufacturer based in a foreign country. Those kinds of allegations are easy to toss from the grandstands, where there's no need to placate young drivers impatient for success or satisfy multi-million-dollar sponsors out to maximize their investments. Yet Gibbs, the old football coach, surely knows that you go with the best combination to help you win. After all, people thought he was disloyal to Jay Schroeder when he chose Doug Williams to be the starting quarterback for the Washington Redskins' 1987 playoff campaign. That shiny Super Bowl ring on Gibbs' finger proves he was right.

In sports, those kinds of tough choices have to be made, and they have to be made regardless of emotion or any sense of loyalty. Red Bull may have been one of Toyota's charter organizations, but if the race team can improve its chances of winning by jumping to another manufacturer, the team owes that to itself to do it. Juan Montoya may be loyal to Chip Ganassi, the car owner who gave him his chance in NASCAR, but the Colombian driver's impressive results of this season make you wonder what he might have been capable of with a better team. Tony Stewart was nothing but loyal to Gibbs, his mentor for a decade. But when the chance of a lifetime presented itself, Stewart took it. Ultimately, every competitor's first priority is to be loyal to themselves.

Besides, loyalty can be a trap. We've seen it in other sports, when organizations use an athlete's loyalty to lower his market value. We've seen situations even this season in baseball, where a player thought he was being loyal to his franchise, only to discover that same loyalty wasn't offered in return. In racing, there's the situation surrounding Martin Truex Jr., who rather than leave Dale Earnhardt Inc. after last season chose to re-sign for an extra year. Maybe loyalty to DEI, his home since his Busch championship days, wasn't the only reason he did it. Now he's in a contract year, his team has been merged and rebranded, his one career victory is a little further behind him, and there are fewer quality rides available elsewhere.

And yet, car owners continue to profess their undying loyalty to manufacturers, even as more and more of the support those carmakers once provided is being stripped away. Some of them are tied to specific manufacturers through business relationships like car dealerships, or long personal histories that would make an affiliation with any other brand look as strange as Dale Earnhardt in the No. 24 car. Yet given the current economic climate and the uncertain future of the domestic automobile market, will that unconditional degree of support be reciprocated? The answer today is not nearly as sure as it once was.

That's not to say loyalty does not have its place. It's laudable what Rick Hendrick has done with Tony Eury Jr., finding a place for him within the organization rather than putting him out on the street, a fate that's befallen many a former crew chief. Relationships like the one between Mark Martin and Jack Roush, separated only by what appeared at the time to be a step by the driver toward retirement, are a hallmark of the sport. But don't think teammates Jeff Gordon and Jimmie Johnson will let their loyalty to one another get in the way of a quest for a championship. Don't think a car owner will let loyalty stand in the way of demoting a tire carrier if pit stops are too slow. And don't think crewmen or mechanics, many of whom wear a different team shirt each season, will let loyalty come between them and a better-paying job.

Yes, it's a nice sentiment. It makes NASCAR seem all warm and fuzzy, obscuring the fact that this is often a cutthroat business where nothing interferes with the quest for performance. But in racing as in all sports, loyalty only goes so far.

The opinions expressed are solely those of the writer.