Why Do People Put NASCAR Stickers on Their Cars?!Aug 11 '08 Write an essay on this topic.
Popular Products in Books
The Bottom Line What's the point of putting stickers of one's favorite NASCAR driver on one's car? In this article, I explain why I think this.
I'm a sports fan. I wear shirts of some of my favorite teams, like the England national football (er, soccer) team, L.A. Clippers NBA basketball team, and Glasgow Rangers Scottish Premier League football team. When I can, I try to watch some of those teams play on television. I even follow my favorite teams through their official websites. In each of these activities, casual fans can show a modicum of support for their favorite sport teams without having the shell out the big bucks and spend a sizable chunk of time in any given day for tickets to the games played by those teams. These are the best way that a fan can show their sports loyalty. So, I can understand the rationale behind putting a decal or bumper sticker on one's car in support of his or her favorite teams. If the sticker looked especially classy and not "bumper-sticker-like," I would also even go so far as to put a decal on my car. However, in the United States (and perhaps in Europe), I've noticed an interesting trend when it comes to placing decals on one's car that does not disturb me as much as simply annoy me. This article relates to one sport: auto racing, NASCAR in particular. For the uninitiated out there, NASCAR stands for National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing. Stock cars, as far as I know, look very similar to cars that you and I drive; of course, under their hoods, NASCAR cars have finely-tuned, high-performance engines that would have no business being in regular street cars. In any case, NASCAR has a long, storied history and is gaining in popularity in the United States, even superseding Indy car racing as the premier auto racing circuit. No longer do auto racing fans speak of the Indianapolis 500 with the same reverent tones as before; now, NASCAR races like the Daytona 500 and the Brickyard 400 capture the imaginations of auto enthusiasts nationwide. As a sports fan, I can see the appeal of NASCAR. It's a sport of high speed and, at the same time, much more car-to-car contact and bumping-and-grinding than, say, Indy car racing. It's a sport with much pageantry and color, with tracks of 100,000-plus fans attending each race. It's also a well-marketed and managed sport with an efficient governing body, drivers with unique personalities ranging from genial to abrasive, and (important to some fans) with a clear agenda for incorporating cutting-edge multimedia and safety-related technologies. Put all of this together, and you have a fan-friendly sport that conspires to pull in even the staunchest of non-sports fan. After all, we all drive, so how can one NOT relate to wanting to go faster in a car? All of this said, there is one thing that I do not get: putting decals representing favorite drivers, particularly those drivers' car numbers, on one's car. Now, Americans aren't putting race-sized numbers on their cars -- it hasn't gotten that silly yet. But, NASCAR fandom has gotten silly enough to where car numbers come to represent the drivers to the extent that the representation can be recognized by non-fans! For example, while I was driving home last week, I saw a car with the number "88" clearly displayed on its rear window. As a sports fan, I instantly recognized that number to be the number of Dale Earnhardt, Jr. Initially, when I saw this, I didn't think much of it. However, as I thought about it more, I thought about how having a number on a car to represent a driver made no sense to me. Why does this person like Dale Earnhardt, Jr.? What appeals to this person about him? Is there something in his driving style or his personality? Unless this person was an super-fan and knew everything there was to know about Dale Earnhardt, Jr., I didn't see the point in putting this driver's number on their car. That said, why did it bother me? As I pondered it more, I began to see from where my annoyance stemmed. In sports, you have team sports and individual sports. Team sports, like basketball and soccer, rely heavily on teamwork and unity for those teams to succeed. Each team in those sports often have one or more stars that interest fans, and each team has a style of play that reflects the proclivities of their individual members and their coaches or managers. Each team runs out with one uniform adorned with team colors that are, in and of themselves, iconic to fans. Team sports are engrossing, not because one player dominate (usually), but because victory is dependent upon all of a team's members working in unison to achieve a goal. In team sports, I would go so far as to state that team competition represents that which dwells in all of us: the innate and passionate desire to achieve success as part of a whole. In a way, team sports are a microcosm of our communities, cities, and countries. Conversely, individual sports, like tennis and auto racing, primarily elevate the talents and performance of one person. Granted, individual sports are not fully "individual," per se; in auto racing especially, there are teams of people that support the athlete or competitor. Whether they be coaches and trainers for tennis players, swimmers, and runners, or crew chiefs, mechanics, and tire-changing guys for auto racers, there is even a team element in individual sport. Nevertheless, in the end, the glory and responsibility of success resides on the individual that performs. If Roger Federer loses Wimbledon, it's not because of his coach and nutritionist; it's because of either his poor performance or his opponent's superior performance. If Michael Phelps fails to win eight gold medals in the Olympics, it's not because of his trainer's poor planning, but primarily because of his or his opponent's performance (this is barring his participation in relay races, but that's another story). Likewise, if Dale Earnhardt, Jr. loses a race, it's not often because of his mechanic or tire guy, but because of his own judgment and skill (though, admittedly, the car plays a big part -- why don't people root for the cars, then?). Ultimately, what separates individual sport from team sport is who is recognized as responsible in victory and defeat. What bothers me about putting the decals and numbers support one person on a car is not the act of support as much as what the support represents. No, it's not that I have anything against supporting competitors in individual sports; I like Tiger Woods, Michael Phelps, and Dale Earnhardt, Jr. as much as the next sports fan. What bothers me is that, in NASCAR, most fans don't seem to be supporting a racer as much as his or her number and that's all. I see NASCAR fans decked out in their favorite racer's gear, sporting paraphenalia like mugs, pillows, and cupholders decorated in their favorite racer's colors and numbers, and even putting decals of those racers' signatures on their own cars. In my opinion, if you think about it long enough, this kind of support is hollow. Think about it this way: you are supporting a competitor who goes around a track 200 or more times. Sure, he may have a certain racing style. Sure, he may be good-looking, which is somewhat important to female fans. And, yes, his car has a snazzy color scheme with an interesting number. But, what's the point? Why demonstrate such ardent support for a guy who goes around a track 200 or more times? I suppose, if anything, my problem is with the casual NASCAR fan. For the hardcore fan of auto racing who really knows about the ins-and-outs of car mechanics, racing techniques (like drafting, going in or out in a turn, and so on), and the intricacies of each driver's tendencies, being a big fan of one particular fan is grounded in knowledge and appreciation of the details of the sport. Yet, for even the enthusiastic casual fan, what is the allure of supporting one racer to the extent that decals must be displayed, gear must be purchased, and entire rooms decorated in certain colors? The answer, in my estimation, is simple: there is something outwardly appealing about the driver and/or his or her car: Me: "Why do you like Jeff Gordon?" Fan: "Because I like the number 24." Me: "What appeals to you about Tony Stewart? I mean, isn't he kind of abrasive and unfriendly?" Fan: "Oh, I like orange, and I shop at Home Depot, so I like Tony Stewart." Me: "Why are you such a big Carl Edwards fan?" Fan: "Well, he's really fit. He doesn't seem like a usual out-of-shape kind of auto racer." Me: "Why do you like Mark Martin so much?" Fan: "He seems like a classy guy." NASCAR is widely appealing to American audiences not because they are more knowledgeable about car and auto racing than most people, but because it's a highly visual sport that does not require an intricate understanding of the sport to appreciate. See the pretty cars go fast; see the handsome (or not so handsome) drivers ham it up for the cameras; watch the cool graphics and stats on your high-definition TV. The most interesting thing about NASCAR fandom to me is that while true hardcore racing fans would not have decals on their cars supporting drivers UNLESS that driver had something to their styles that appeal to the individual fan, casual fans literally (in the case of once-marketed NASCAR beef!) eat up items that represent favorite drivers. This is what truly bothers me about seeing a driver's stickers on someone's car; essentially, this ardent enthusiasm for that driver is more often borne not from knowledge of cars and auto racing, but from something externally apparent, like personality, looks, and colors. Interestingly, in the U.S., this kind of support is found only with auto racing and, in particular, NASCAR; as of today, I have yet to find anyone sporting Roger Federer, Tiger Woods, or Michael Phelps stickers on their cars! As I watched that car with the Dale Earnhardt, Jr. stickers drive away, I began to even question team sports fans. Do team sports fans also base their enthusiasm on the colors of their teams' uniforms, or the personalities of the managers and coaches of those teams? I cannot deny this to be the case. But, deep down, there is something less disturbing about staunch support for a team, even if it's motivated by external factors. I would surmise that when one supports a team, one supports corporate achievement over individual greatness. Of course, I'm sure a team sports fan's motivations are not that lofty, but the support of one competitor to the extent that bumper stickers become necessary calls into question what people really value as sports fans.  |
| Read all comments (4)|Write your own comment |
