Fundamentally Different: A Season is a Game
Nov 19, 2018 14:41:59 GMT -5
JSPorts, AndersonWhitt, and 2 more like this
Post by Mile501 on Nov 19, 2018 14:41:59 GMT -5
In sports that use a ball, a particular team plays a number of different opponents throughout the season, with all the games taking place on fields/arenas that are essentially the same.
On the contrary, in auto racing, all the teams race against each other throughout the season, with the races taking place on tracks that are quite different from one another.
There is a fundamental difference between the two, and that is why a playoff format that culminates in a single championship race can never be on the same playing field as another type of sport that successfully uses a playoff format to determine a single champion.
It is quite obvious by this point that NASCAR doesn't care if the championship seems fair or not; they just want it to be exciting, never fully decided until the final checkered flag falls. But this exposes the flaw in their logic, and it is supported by the dismal, record-low TV ratings that have accompanied every single race this season (excluding the few races that underwent some sort of change).
Only once (Truex in 2017) since the Cup Series went to an elimination playoff format has the best driver throughout the season won the championship. And even though no point system is perfect, a good point system will reward the best driver with the championship more often than not. NASCAR's current playoff format has rewarded the best driver with the championship just 20% of the time.
So this is the flaw in their logic: If the most deserving driver continually fails to win the championship because the format is flawed, why would fans want to continue watching?
In 1985, 8th-seed Villanova won the NCAA tournament, the lowest-seeded team to ever win the tournament. But an underdog win like that feels very different. Before the tournament even began, they had won 19 out of 29 games, and in order to win the tournament, they had to win 6 straight games in a high-pressure situation. Every moment in every game mattered; they couldn't just fool around for most of the game, then start playing well at the end.
We could find similar stories from any other sport. But auto racing is fundamentally different. With NASCAR's playoff system, a driver doesn't have to score 6 wins in a row in order to be the champion. He just has to win at certain key moments. And he doesn't even have to be the best throughout the race--just at the end.
Beyond that, factors outside a driver's control can dramatically influence the championship battle when it comes down to just one race, such as a caution caused by a backmarker team or a mechanical failure. Such scenarios are impossible, though, in other types of sports, because only the two teams competing for the championship are playing.
In the example above, the underdog Villanova still earned that NCAA championship because that team played hard and won 6 straight games to reach that point. It was a legitimate championship for that reason. What does a driver have to do to earn a top-level NASCAR championship--have a mediocre season and get out front at the right moment, perhaps after some other driver crashed at just the right time? If it doesn't seem legitimate to the fans, why will they continue to watch?
In a game such as basketball or football, points are scored throughout the game to determine the winner. Every moment throughout the game matters, and a mistake near the end may not necessarily cause a team to lose.
In traditional auto racing, points are scored throughout the season to determine the overall winner--the champion. Every moment throughout the season matters, and a mistake near the end may not necessarily cause a driver to lose the championship.
A season is a game.
That's the comparison we can make between auto racing and other sports. A season in auto racing is a lot like a single game in other sports. To think that a single race is equivalent to a ball game, and to develop a playoff format based on that idea, is inherently flawed and can never work effectively.
NASCAR has succeeded in creating "game seven" moments every year, but at what cost? The driver who was arguably the best in each of NASCAR's top three series in 2018 (Sauter, Bell, and Busch) each finished 4th in points in his respective series. In the Xfinity Series, 5 drivers were in a tight battle for the points lead all season long, yet none of them won the title; it instead went to a driver who finished a very distant 6th in season-long points.
Why would fans want to watch an entire season worth of racing if the biggest prize often comes down to who has the best pit stop after a driver who isn't even in the championship battle brings out a late caution? The answer is, many have lost interest, and we see that in the significant decline of TV ratings.
In our age of short attention spans, perhaps a season-long point format isn't best for NASCAR (although it still seems to work quite well for other forms of motorsports). But if there must be some type of playoff, it at least shouldn't come down to a single race. Please, NASCAR, recognize that you are not the same as other sports. Don't try to imitate them; embrace the difference. Create innovative championship formats that are exciting, interesting, and fair. Sometimes it may come down to the last moments of the race and sometimes it may not, but true fans will appreciate it when worthy champions are crowned.
NASCAR is fundamentally different from other types of sports, and if its leaders realize that sooner rather than later, everyone will benefit from the improved perspective.
On the contrary, in auto racing, all the teams race against each other throughout the season, with the races taking place on tracks that are quite different from one another.
There is a fundamental difference between the two, and that is why a playoff format that culminates in a single championship race can never be on the same playing field as another type of sport that successfully uses a playoff format to determine a single champion.
It is quite obvious by this point that NASCAR doesn't care if the championship seems fair or not; they just want it to be exciting, never fully decided until the final checkered flag falls. But this exposes the flaw in their logic, and it is supported by the dismal, record-low TV ratings that have accompanied every single race this season (excluding the few races that underwent some sort of change).
Only once (Truex in 2017) since the Cup Series went to an elimination playoff format has the best driver throughout the season won the championship. And even though no point system is perfect, a good point system will reward the best driver with the championship more often than not. NASCAR's current playoff format has rewarded the best driver with the championship just 20% of the time.
So this is the flaw in their logic: If the most deserving driver continually fails to win the championship because the format is flawed, why would fans want to continue watching?
In 1985, 8th-seed Villanova won the NCAA tournament, the lowest-seeded team to ever win the tournament. But an underdog win like that feels very different. Before the tournament even began, they had won 19 out of 29 games, and in order to win the tournament, they had to win 6 straight games in a high-pressure situation. Every moment in every game mattered; they couldn't just fool around for most of the game, then start playing well at the end.
We could find similar stories from any other sport. But auto racing is fundamentally different. With NASCAR's playoff system, a driver doesn't have to score 6 wins in a row in order to be the champion. He just has to win at certain key moments. And he doesn't even have to be the best throughout the race--just at the end.
Beyond that, factors outside a driver's control can dramatically influence the championship battle when it comes down to just one race, such as a caution caused by a backmarker team or a mechanical failure. Such scenarios are impossible, though, in other types of sports, because only the two teams competing for the championship are playing.
In the example above, the underdog Villanova still earned that NCAA championship because that team played hard and won 6 straight games to reach that point. It was a legitimate championship for that reason. What does a driver have to do to earn a top-level NASCAR championship--have a mediocre season and get out front at the right moment, perhaps after some other driver crashed at just the right time? If it doesn't seem legitimate to the fans, why will they continue to watch?
In a game such as basketball or football, points are scored throughout the game to determine the winner. Every moment throughout the game matters, and a mistake near the end may not necessarily cause a team to lose.
In traditional auto racing, points are scored throughout the season to determine the overall winner--the champion. Every moment throughout the season matters, and a mistake near the end may not necessarily cause a driver to lose the championship.
A season is a game.
That's the comparison we can make between auto racing and other sports. A season in auto racing is a lot like a single game in other sports. To think that a single race is equivalent to a ball game, and to develop a playoff format based on that idea, is inherently flawed and can never work effectively.
NASCAR has succeeded in creating "game seven" moments every year, but at what cost? The driver who was arguably the best in each of NASCAR's top three series in 2018 (Sauter, Bell, and Busch) each finished 4th in points in his respective series. In the Xfinity Series, 5 drivers were in a tight battle for the points lead all season long, yet none of them won the title; it instead went to a driver who finished a very distant 6th in season-long points.
Why would fans want to watch an entire season worth of racing if the biggest prize often comes down to who has the best pit stop after a driver who isn't even in the championship battle brings out a late caution? The answer is, many have lost interest, and we see that in the significant decline of TV ratings.
In our age of short attention spans, perhaps a season-long point format isn't best for NASCAR (although it still seems to work quite well for other forms of motorsports). But if there must be some type of playoff, it at least shouldn't come down to a single race. Please, NASCAR, recognize that you are not the same as other sports. Don't try to imitate them; embrace the difference. Create innovative championship formats that are exciting, interesting, and fair. Sometimes it may come down to the last moments of the race and sometimes it may not, but true fans will appreciate it when worthy champions are crowned.
NASCAR is fundamentally different from other types of sports, and if its leaders realize that sooner rather than later, everyone will benefit from the improved perspective.
