LAS VEGAS -- They say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right? Jimmie Johnson can only hope so.

Because we're through just one day of NASCAR's newly-relocated Champion's Week, and Johnson's reputation has already been beaten up worse than one of Floyd Mayweather Jr.'s sparring partners. Boring? Vanilla? Politically correct? Not according to Johnson's friends and fellow drivers, who poked plenty of fun at the four-time defending champion during a charity roast at Las Vegas Motor Speedway. There were jokes about his receding hairline, and whether he uses medicinal help to keep his follicles in place. There were stories about late nights out and hazy mornings after. There were remarks that cannot be reprinted without risking a fine from the Federal Communications Commission.

"I can get this guy into more trouble than Tiger Woods right now," said former teammate Brian Vickers, smiling so broadly you knew he was telling the truth.

Goodness, who knew what NASCAR was unleashing when it decided to move its season-ending celebration from New York, where it had been for the previous 28 years, to the madcap, neon-lit, occasionally R-rated environs of Las Vegas. Manhattan could get plenty rowdy, with parties that went on until the wee hours and adult beverages that flowed like snowmelt down a hill. But it was also the kind of place where you wore a tie almost everywhere, where activities were held in austere, dark-wood-paneled rooms, where even in the midst of merriment there was a level of decorum to be maintained. Nobody, after all, ever dropped an F-bomb during a visit to the New York Stock Exchange.

Well, those days are over, at least for the time being. If Wednesday was any indication, the change in geography has brought with it a change in attitude, one that's lifted many of the constraints that prevented fans from getting close to their heroes and perhaps left the drivers feeling a little more willing to be themselves. Granted, there are two days still remaining in this Champion's Week, and there are still parts that feel a little too forced or heavily orchestrated. (Do we really need a TV personality hosting everything?) But despite the opulent surroundings of the Wynn, NASCAR's headquarters hotel -- yes, that is a real tile fresco on the floor of the elevator lobby -- there's no question that things feels a little less elitist and a little more accessible.

Just take the scene Wednesday at the speedway, for example. There was the sound of stock-car engines, for starters, piercing a wide, blue sky that didn't feature a cloud for miles. There was the country-rock group playing the Neon Garage, the lead singer decked out in the requisite cowboy hat, crooning about timeless topics like honky-tonks, whiskey, and small towns. There were the race fans, several hundred of them even by a conservative estimate, standing in line to get an autograph from Miss Sprint Cup or waiting alongside a red carpet that the drivers were due to traverse.

"I'm hoping that we get to see the drivers up close, because normally we can't," said Las Vegas resident Ray Longo, wearing a Jimmie Johnson football jersey his wife found for him on the Internet. "Usually, it's only what you see on TV."

No, we're definitely not in New York anymore -- unless we're talking about the New York-New York hotel and casino, where Johnson took part in a photo shoot Wednesday. Drivers arrived at the speedway in two helicopters, and made their way down a long red carpet bisecting the garage area, posing for photos and signing autographs all the way. Among the fan base, the excitement was palpable. "It's Jeff Gordon!" one young boy exclaimed over and over. Grown men and women leaned across the metal barriers, getting a rare, close-up look at the sport's top drivers outside of their helmets and firesuits.

"I didn't really want to come out here, you know? Eleventh is not that great," said Carl Edwards, who finished 11th in final points, and won't appear at Friday night's ceremony. But he was at the track Wednesday, and will take part in the show-car parade down Las Vegas Boulevard on Thursday. "I don't want to come celebrate 11th. Before I saw these fans, I was not too excited about it. But after walking down the carpet here and meeting 100 or 200 of them, it feels good. I'm glad I came."

Admission to the roast required a $250 donation to Speedway Children's Charities, and nearly 200 people showed up. The master of ceremonies was scheduled to be comedian Carrot Top, who canceled due to a family emergency. Performing in his place was Kevin Burke, an entertainer little-known outside of Las Vegas who has a show at the Excalibur hotel. Burke was tremendous, and he had clearly done his homework. He needled every driver. A few choice samples:

Monday

The celebration begins in the 2009 champ's hometown of El Cajon, Calif., as Jimmie Johnson and his wife, Chandra, hand out nearly $1 million in grants divided among schools in California, North Carolina and Oklahoma.

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Tuesday

Day 2 of Champion's Week consisted of an appearance at Auto Club Speedway where Johnson had breakfast with and conducted a Q&A with 700 of the track's invited guests. He also participated in several media functions.

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Wednesday

Johnson took part in the traditional landmark photo shoot, hitting a number of recognizable spots along the famed Las Vegas strip. His day didn't end there. After the photos were taken, he dashed to LVMS, where his fellow competitors got a little payback for four years of domination.

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On Mark Martin: "I don't want to say Mark Martin is old, but the pace-car driver for your first race was Ben Hur."

On Kasey Kahne: "Kasey is very excited to hear that Danica Patrick may be coming to NASCAR. Finally, there will be someone you can beat up."

On Greg Biffle: "What can you say about Greg Biffle that hasn't already been said about vanilla pudding? He's Al Gore without the charisma."

On Edwards: "He's very comfortable here in Las Vegas, what with all the other topless entertainment."

Not even Dale Earnhardt Jr., who finished well outside the Chase and wasn't in attendance, was spared: "Let's face it, he's famous just for being famous. He's the Paris Hilton of NASCAR."

And then it was the drivers' turns. Speedway president Chris Powell had envisioned the roast as a throwback to the banquet speeches of years ago, before the era of teleprompters and laundry-list sponsor mentions, when drivers were a little more willing to talk off the cuff. Oh, they were off the cuff Wednesday, all right. Some were off the map, to the point where you wondered if they had forgotten that there were television cameras rolling in the back of the room. NASCAR's image-makers had to be shifting uncomfortably in their seats more than a few times, especially when the jokes about sexual preference were bandied about.

But you know what? Everyone seemed to take it in the right spirit, and much of it -- particularly Burke's asides -- left audience members teary-eyed with laughter. Those closest to Johnson, like Vickers and Jeff Gordon, told stories of the crazy, golf-cart-surfing driver that publicly only occasionally peeks out from behind those dark sunglasses. There was the time Vickers and Johnson enjoyed themselves a little too much at a Carolina Panthers football game, for instance, only to come home to what was surprise birthday party arranged by Johnson's wife. The guest of honor inadvertently crashed it wearing a football helmet backward on his head.

"I heard 'surprise,' ran out, took the helmet off, and ran back in like nothing had ever happened," Johnson said, cracking up the room. Then there are the details of his most recent championship party, which he still struggles to remember. There are some bruises on his arm and a foggy recollection of being in a hot tub, but that's about it. "There's a black spot for about three hours," he said.

These are the kinds of stories that Johnson's handlers would probably prefer never see the light of day. And yet, they help the race fans relate to him, piercing just a little that cool, unflappable persona that has helped make Johnson so successful on the race track. Everybody who has spent any time around the guy knows he has a wild side, knows that golf cart incident all those years ago is as much a part of him as the sponsor name emblazoned across his chest on Sunday afternoons. Seeing just a hint of that every now and then doesn't hurt him. It humanizes him more than another four championships would.

Las Vegas, and the atmosphere that surrounds this city and sweeps up everyone who visits it, helps bring that out. No question, Wednesday's roast was a risk. There are some off-color comments that are surely going to get circulated, heard out of context, and tick off people. But if events like that and cities like this help the world see a little more of the real Jimmie Johnson, then maybe the New York-New York casino is an improvement over the real thing.

The opinions expressed are solely those of the writer.