As a Winston Cup race car rushes through the air, the design of its body - with all wheels enclosed, a cab around the driver, and a "spoiler" across the rear deck - creates an air pressure
bubble in front and a minor vacuum behind it. And this poses a
drag on how many extra miles per hour it can speed at full
throttle. Aerodynamic detailing can reduce this drag, but
not by much, because NASCAR's rules require that the
custom-made bodies match approved templates, notably to
replicate the looks of a Chevrolet Monte Carlo, a Pontiac
Grand Prix, or a Ford Taurus (and also, next season, a
Chrysler Intrepid, as Chrysler returns to stock-car racing).
Drafting, which looks like tailgating or slipstreaming, occurs
when a second car tucks closely behind the first, filling part
of the vacuum. The car in front loses some of the drag at its
rear. The second car still has a vacuum at its rear, but now
has less air resistance in front. As a result, both cars
quicken a bit - the two combined speed a few miles per hour
faster than either can alone. This push-pull effect is
stronger the closer the second car gets to the first. Indeed,
the second may even touch and push the first in a tricky
maneuver called "bump drafting." But slipstreaming so closely
hinders airflow into the trailing car's radiator and can cause
its engine to overheat. Most drafting calls for a half to a
full car length between the two cars. (In contrast,
open-wheel, motorcycle, and bicycle racers do not gain extra
speed by drafting, because a trailing racer does not generate
the forward aero push that stock cars do.)
and keep pace with rivals who are already in line. But there
is also an incentive to defect at some point - eventually the
time comes for this opportunistic partnership to dissolve, as
the second car aims to get around the first. And when this
occurs the advantage usually goes to the second, because of
the "slingshot" effect. If he can drop back a little, by a car
length or two, and then gain speed back into the draft zone,
perhaps as the cars descend off a high-banked turn onto a
straight, he may use his tiny extra momentum of a few miles
per hour to swing out and pass the car in front, which loses
momentum as soon as the vacuum reappears behind it.
Famous races have been won this way. By now, it is a simple
calculation. But it was "discovered" in 1960, at the
second-ever Daytona 500. Junior Johnson reluctantly agreed
to drive a Chevrolet, knowing it lacked speed and power
compared to Plymouth entries. But he found that as long as he
left the pits behind a Plymouth and drafted Plymouths on the
track, he could stay with the front-runners. He won the race
after the lead Plymouth spun out temporarily when it lost its
rear window to the suction of the backdraft. In another
famous case, near the end of the Firecracker 400 at Daytona
in 1974, David Pearson knew for sure he had the more powerful
engine as he led a two-car draft, ahead of Richard ("The King")
Petty. But Pearson worried he would still fall prey to a
slingshot. So entering the last lap he suddenly slowed and let
Petty shoot past him by nearly two hundred yards, then used
his car's extra power to regain speed back into the draft and
slingshot by on the final turn, leaving Petty and everyone
else awestruck and dumbfounded.
the finish line. The unmuffled engines sound at full roar.
But both drivers, by barely moving their gas pedals and
delicately pressing their brake pedals, are engaged in an
almost invisible dance of slowing and accelerating. At the
same time, the leader may block the drafter by "mirror-driving"
- steering to the inside or outside of the race track to keep
his car in front of the path he thinks the drafter may use to
slip around. If the lead driver does all this just right,
and if the second driver sees that this dance risks letting
third- and fourth-place cars catch up and pass, then the
leader may well go on to victory. This occurred on the
hair-raising last lap of the 1999 Daytona 500; Jeff Gordon,
the sport's young Golden Boy, won by anticipating and fending
off a nose-to-tail challenge from Dale Earnhardt, an aging
master at high-speed drafting maneuvers.
If a classic slingshot cannot be executed, a skillful driver
still has two aggressive techniques to exploit the draft.
Both work by unsettling the traction of the rear wheels of
the lead car. One technique, which Earnhardt tried
unsuccessfully against Gordon, is to "fan the tail."
The second driver moves to within inches, or less, of the
lead car and fans the nose of his car back and forth along a
tail corner of the lead car in order to "take air off the
spoiler." Disrupting the air flow causes the car to lose
"downforce," the downward grip generated by the spoiler and
other aerodynamic aspects of the car's body at high speeds.
Its rear wheels start to spin; the car starts to slide
sideways; the driver has to fight for control, including by
easing up on the accelerator - and the rear car slips around.
But the rear driver must be careful; as he gets close enough
to fan, the air flow lessens across the hood of his car, and
he risks losing downforce on his steering wheels. However, at
Daytona and Talladega, with their long straights and
high-banked turns, this latter risk is minimal. It arises
mainly on "speedways" that are one to two miles around and
have low-banked turns - there, a trailing racer can quickly
lose front downforce, and traction, if he plays this game as
his car changes speed when entering or leaving a turn.
know they are the best at what they do, and may be racing
against each other for many seasons (at 30 plus races a year).
Mutual respect and familial solidarity are important to
their sporting culture. Acts that invite retribution and
develop into personal feuds are generally avoided. The
drivers also know that image is crucial to their corporate
sponsors, team owners, loyal fans, and NASCAR overseers.
Thus, blunt ramming - "driving into" a rival - is unwelcome
among today's Winston Cup elite (and sometimes prompts NASCAR
officials to penalize a driver for recklessness), though it
occurs often in lower levels of stock-car racing and was not
unusual in early eras of Winston Cup racing. Nonetheless,
a "loving tap," sufficient to unsettle a car's grip but not
cause it to crash, is an acceptable tactic, even an honored
mark of skill, if done judiciously.
But "bump and run" is a gray area, where tactical tit for
tat, perhaps motivated by momentary anger and revenge, may
come into play despite the overall ethic of mutual respect.
In a combination of the Old Testament rule of "an eye for an
eye" and the New Testament's Golden Rule of "Do
unto others ...," many veteran Winston Cup drivers aver
that, "I treat another driver like he treats me. If he
races me hard and clean, I do the same to him. If he
doesn't, then payback is okay." Since the tracks are
banked, the advantage usually goes to the driver on the
inside - the outside car is more vulnerable. Thus, in some
oft-noted examples (not all involved drafting), Jeff Burton
refrained from bumping Jeff Gordon as Gordon passed him on
the outside, fender-to-fender, to win on the final lap of
a race at Darlington in 1997; and Gordon responded by racing
equally clean when Burton seized the lead to win in a
similar side-by-side situation a year later at Richmond.
In contrast, Gordon did execute a flagrant bump to pass race
leader Rusty Wallace at Bristol in 1997, which reportedly
explains why Wallace nudged Gordon into a crash (that Wallace
may not have intended) a year later at another Richmond race,
as Gordon passed on the outside and started to swing in front.
different way." The implication: a driver not only keeps a
mental log of a rival's style, strengths and weaknesses, but
also of where he stands in deserving tit-for-tat treatment,
based on encounters during the current race and over time.
Blocking by mirror-driving, especially if done by a less
established or a "rookie" driver, or even by a veteran in a
slow car, can rile a trailing driver to the point where he
feels he has a justification to bump and run. Post-race
interviews about crashes may reveal that a trailing driver
refrained from backing off and just went ahead and banged a
rival in the tail or side, simply because he felt the rival
had cut him off too many times earlier in the race, or
stubbornly refused to get out of the way of a faster car at
the time. The last lap is the grayest area of all. Many drivers
espouse an "anything goes" attitude - a cavalier bump-and-run
to gain position is more permissible then than at any other
time. Thus Gordon applied a sharp nudge to "loosen up"
Dale Jarrett, enabling Gordon to seize third and make
Jarrett finish a fourth in the Jiffy Lube 300 at the New
Hampshire International Speedway in July. And Earnhardt, just
after losing the lead to Terry Labonte, bluntly bumped his
car into a crash that meant Earnhardt finished first and
Labonte eighth in the Goodys Headache Powder 500 at Bristol
Motor Speedway in August. These instances, the best from the
1999 season, left Jarrett and Labonte very angry, Gordon and
especially Earnhardt booed by fans, the racing media with
storied controversy for a week or two, and much wonderment
and questioning of NASCAR officials about ethics and egos on
the race track.
leader in order to win. He used soft taps on the last lap to
win the first two races of this year's IROC season, first to
get around Martin at Daytona, then Wallace at Talladega. Yet,
while fanning Gordon's tail, he refrained from bumping him
aside in the final yards of the Daytona 500 - in marked
contrast to what he did to Labonte at Bristol.
These dynamics come together in this description from A
Little Bit Sideways of the situation late in a race at the
Charlotte Motor Speedway - a mile-and-a-half speedway with
low-banked turns where downforce matters much more than
drafting - in October 1997, as Earnhardt and Martin battle
for the lead:"When Earnhardt leads, Martin hunches behind his tail like he's the back end of a horse costume, following Earnhardt's line perfectly and waiting to spring, waiting for Earnhardt to drift high in one of the turns or loosen up when Martin takes the air off his spoiler, reducing the down force on his rear tires. Then Martin slingshots down underneath him and takes the lead, in racing's most common move, and its least preventable. Earnhardt mirror-drives him, putting him off, but Martin can find his spot. When Earnhardt is behind Martin, on the other hand, he drives like the Intimidator his name makes him out to be, poking his nose underneath Martin whenever he's got the smallest chance, looking high if Martin's hooked too cleanly on the lower line. He's pushy, poking at Martin constantly, trying to force the chance rather than waiting for it."The main motivation for two cars to form a draft line is to win a race. But other motivations figure as well. Not only first place but also finishing positions from second through last yield prize moneys from that race, and points (175 for 1st, 34 for 43rd) that accumulate toward the annual championship. (This year's Winston Cup championship was won by Jarrett, and most other drivers mentioned in this article fell within the top ten.) There may be other moneys for achievements during a race - e.g., leading at half-way. In addition, for leading any single lap, a driver acquires an extra five points, and another five if he leads the most laps. Indeed, if the drivers in first and second are well ahead of everyone else and accommodating toward each other, the leader may even let the second pass so he can get five points for himself, with an understanding that they will trade back a lap or two later. This is arranged through radio calls to each driver's "spotter" - the spotters, who serve mainly to warn of wrecks and report on nearby cars but can also act as diplomatic envoys, are situated together atop the grandstands. And it may be easy to arrange if the two drive for the same team - several owners have multi-car teams on the Winston Cup circuit. But if not, it may involve a threat that the driver in second will nudge the leader aside if he does not accept the deal. Yet another motive also figures: The closer a racer gets to the front, the less likely his car will be "collected" by a wreck. A multi-car wreck is a serious worry when the cars are drafting in packs, as occurs at Daytona and Talladega.
of dollars to establish a Winston Cup team, and more millions
a year to field it. A major sponsor pays millions to get hold
of a car's paint scheme and cover the hood and sides with its
name and logo. Associate sponsors pay hundreds of thousands
for prominent spots on the sides and tail. In other words,
NASCAR teams are in the entertainment and advertising as well
as the racing business. "Humpy" Wheeler, owner of Charlotte
(now Lowe's) Motor Speedway, claims, "The NASCAR stock car is
the only race car that's ever been designed with entertainment in mind: the spectator, the TV audience."
(On a speedway one to two miles around, a racer may have one
more incentive to gain first place. Speeds on these tracks
rarely get high enough for drafting to matter. But the air
gets so turbulent from the cars' rushing about that a driver
may worry about the disruption of downforce on the nose of
his car. The best way to run in "clean air," and thus maximize
downforce, is to gain first place. Then, he may be able to
run a few MPH faster and open a gaping lead. This does not
occur on short tracks, where speeds are low and there is no
room to run in the open for long, or on superspeedways, where
cars' performances are so evened out that nobody can break
away by himself for long.)
These are the basic dynamics of two-car draft lines. Physics
and strategy rule, but culture and psychology make a
difference. And this is the case with long draft lines too.
Long draft lines - often five to ten cars long - take shape at Daytona and Talladega mainly because they are high-speed, high-banked, full-throttle raceways. But that is not the only reason. NASCAR's rules make drafting more likely than ever. One is the innovation known as "restrictor plate" racing. Winston Cup racecars are not truly stock cars. They are custom built in detail. But to maintain the perception that they are the traditional stock cars of yore, and to keep the playing field fairly level for all contenders, NASCAR mandates that the cars must have V-8 engine blocks made of iron (no aluminum). The engines cannot have overhead camshafts or more than two valves per cylinder. They must have four-barrel carburetors, with no superchargers. Today, the engine displacement is limited to 358 cubic inches; the compression ratio, to 12:1; and fuel octane, to 110. Rear-wheel drive and solid rear axles are required. Power steering is permitted, but not an automatic transmission. On-board computer systems, such as for traction control, cannot be used during a race. Other rules govern weight, size, shape, and materials. The rule book is very thick. Thus, according to the Stock Car Race Fan's Reference Guide,
Winston Cup racecars lie "on the cutting edge of yesterday's
technology." Still, they are very powerful - their engines
generate around 750 horsepower at high RPMs. This could rush
them around Daytona and Talladega well in excess of 200 MPH.
But when that began to occur in the late 1980s, so did
horrendous wrecks; in one accident, a car hurtled into a
grandstand, killing fans. So NASCAR figured the cars should
be slowed by requiring a "restrictor plate," a metal plate
with small holes that is mounted below the carburetor in
order to restrict the flow of air and fuel. This plate,
which NASCAR provides, drops a Cup car's horsepower to about
450, thereby reducing top speeds by at least 30 MPH.
As a side effect, the restrictor plates turned out to make
it difficult for any team to tune its motors better (or
much better) than any other team. The plates leveled as well
as weakened the horsepower of all the cars. So now, a single
car or set of cars can rarely break away from the pack in a
restrictor-plate race - for a lap or so maybe, but not for
long before a draft line catches up. The cars run in packs
more than ever, and the only way to get ahead of a pack is
to enter a draft line. (Ironically, the restrictor plates
may help keep cars from hurtling into the stands, but the
increased tendency to run in packs makes multi-car wrecks
more likely. To the ugly delight of some fans but the dismay
of drivers who dislike restrictor-plate racing - and many
do dislike it - "the big wreck" is a frequent feature at
Daytona and Talladega.)
Winston Cup races allow 43 cars to participate. They start
by lining up in rows, two-cars wide, according to qualifying
speeds at time trials a day or two earlier, with the fastest
in front. The picturesque starting grid then looks like two
parallel lines, each 21 cars long, with a lone 43rd car at
the back. In restarts, say after a yellow-flag caution slows
the cars and halts passing because of an accident or debris,
they usually realign in two parallel lines, according to
their positions at that point (and according to NASCAR rules
that put lapped cars on the inside line). At Daytona and
Talladega, both starts and restarts occur with the cars
rolling at 80 MPH. After that, it may take two or three
laps to attain top speeds of around 190 MPH. The cars are
nearly there within a lap, but the tiny final increments
arise as their tires heat and expand from racing.
Immediately after the start or a restart of a race at
Daytona or Talladega, then, two long, parallel draft lines
automatically emerge, one following the inside "groove" of
the oval, the other an outside groove. In the early laps,
cars on the inside usually move a little faster, because
that is where the racers prefer to run and thus it tends to
be stickier from tire wear - in racing parlance, it is a
groove. Later, as more tire rubber spreads on the track,
the outside groove may work as well, even better for some
cars. A track rarely develops a third groove, though cars
contesting for position often run three and four "wide" at
the same time.
Thus, the early laps produce a shuffling as differences
between qualifying and racing abilities take hold. Crucial
is whether a car can be driven "wide open" around the entire
track - the driver should not have to ease up on the gas
pedal in the turns at Daytona or Talladega. This is mainly
a function of a car's "set up" - the choices a team makes
about how to set the engine, drive train, suspension,
brakes, tire pressures and aerodynamics for the weather and
track conditions that day. At speed, this reduces to
concerns about whether the car drives too "tight" or
too "loose" - tight meaning it is hard to turn, it
understeers, and loose meaning it turns too much, it
oversteers. Either condition may compel the driver to slow
in the turns, and eventually to make a pit stop for
adjustments (a fast pit crew can change four tires or alter
pressures in existing tires, adjust the springs and
suspension, and add fuel in 16 to 18 seconds). Adjustments
are often made throughout a race. But once a car is
performing at peak - the ideal is a "dominant" car that is
"dialed in" and "hooked up" - the decisive factor is no
longer the car itself, but the driver's drafting
opportunities and skills.
Suppose the line is seven cars long, and the fourth wants to
slip out and slingshot ahead. Again, he (so far, it's all
male in Winston Cup racing) will not get far by himself.
He can be sure to get ahead - either by displacing a car
farther up front in a line, or by creating a separate new
line - only if the car just ahead (in third) or behind
(in fifth) goes with him, or better yet, if all three go
together. He needs at least one partner - and a prospective
partner must not abandon him at the last moment. Again, if a
racer ends up out of long line alone, it is likely to seal up;
and if "the door slams shut," he will lose momentum and fall
back sharply, sometimes losing more than ten places before
he can squeeze back into a line without causing a multi-car
wreck.
together, especially to the inside, all cars behind them are
likely to follow, as a band-wagon effect takes hold. Then the
draft line segments, and a new one forms alongside it. The
longer a line, and the more urgently competitive the racers
in it, the more likely it will segment and yield two parallel
lines. Once this occurs, some racers may jump from one line
to the other when openings appear, depending on their sense
as to which line is moving faster or may offer better
opportunities in the near future.
During a race, a driver is constantly concerned about
exactly who is just in front and who is on his tail. Can the
adjacent driver be trusted as a drafting partner? How
experienced is he at working a line? Where does he stand in
the season's total points race? How well is his car performing?
Is it better at pushing or pulling other cars in a draft?
Looking beyond the immediate concerns about adjacent cars, a
genius at drafting strategy, like Earnhardt, will also try
to envision where multiple cars may be located a few laps
later, especially the cars he may want to partner with.
Veterans rarely want a newcomer or "rookie" nearby, much
less as a partner, in a Winston Cup race. This year's star
newcomer, Tony Stewart, found that he had to earn "confidence"
so the veterans would accept him as a drafting partner. In
IROC races, the NASCAR invitees prefer to form with each
other and to avoid CART and IRL invitees, whose open-wheel
experiences rarely involve drafting. Earnhardt, who won three
of the four 1999 IROC races, commented after the one at
Talladega that he did not want an IRL or CART driver on his
tail as he worked his way from last to first place.
A driver benefits greatly if he has a trustworthy drafting
partner, but prolonged cooperation between two racers - lap
after lap - is rare. The propensity most exists only when
the two come from the same team. For example, Rusty Wallace
and Jeremy Mayfield, both with teams owned in part by Roger
Penske, dominated first and second places respectively in
the lead draft line for numerous laps of the Daytona 500.
Their cars were running so well, and their collaboration was
so evident, that nobody else in the lead line could challenge
them. Their demise came late in the race after a yellow-flag
caution, when they opted to stay in position while other
racers made pitstops for new tires. Not long after the
restart, as the lead line reemerged, Mayfield's worn tires
began to lose grip, obliging him to drift out of the line.
This left Wallace exposed to runs by the next racers in the
lead line - Gordon and Earnhardt in particular - a few laps
later.
hindered by the fact that another car always ran between
Earnhardt and Skinner - they couldn't "hook up." But they
are so independent and competitive toward each other that
collaboration may have been unlikely. Instead, with four
laps left, in a moment of mad disarray, when Gordon dashed to
the inside of Wallace and Skinner drove to the outside,
Earnhardt first swung to the outside behind Skinner but
then dropped down behind Gordon and helped draft him into
first place and himself into second.
In short, cooperation among rivals is not natural in Winston
Cup racing. Yet, it emerges spontaneously in the initial
formation of long draft lines, then calculatingly as drivers
compete to get ahead within a line or to create a new one.
As Wallace remarked on the eve of the season's second race
at Daytona, the Pepsi 400 in July, "Teamwork is everything
here. If you can get a good drafting partner, ... you can
cover a lot of ground." How is this arranged? Quite simply,
the answer is communications.
Some deals may be cut before a race starts. Drivers know
that drafting partners, however temporary and coincidental,
are essential for doing well at Daytona and Talladega. So
friendly drivers may discuss beforehand that they should hook
up to help each other at times, perhaps especially if they
are near each other on the starting grid or at a restart.
Most partnering emerges on the fly. How do drivers
communicate an intent to partner while racing? For
line-of-sight communication, there are customary hand
gestures for indicating whether a driver wants someone to
follow him, and in which direction he aims to swing his car.
But hand gestures are not always easy to see, and a driver
does not want to take his hands off the steering wheel for
long. So, the key medium is radio.
NASCAR racecars have radios (IROC cars do not) that enable
drivers to talk with their spotters in the stands and crew
chiefs in the pits (but not to other drivers). The talk
largely concerns how a car is performing, what needs to be
adjusted, when to make pit stops, and what is happening on
the track that the driver should know about. But in addition,
the radios are used to arrange deals about who is ready to
partner with whom, maybe for a few laps, but more likely for
no more than 10 seconds at 190 MPH to draft around one rival
before trust turns to defection, and the erstwhile partners
look for new ones. Most efforts to cut deals go through the
drivers' spotters, who then act like diplomatic envoys,
clustered together high atop the stands. But the crew chiefs
and car owners may also get involved. Who knows what quid
pro quos may be added to the stakes then. Usually, these
communications seek assurances about partnering with an
adjacent car. But sometimes they inform a driver who cannot
find an adjacent partner to wait for a driver who is working
his way up the line, and then to go with him.
broadcasters, and rival race teams. Thus, most drivers,
spotters, and crew chiefs are circumspect about what they
say. Some also use multiple frequencies, and guard them from
disclosure. Yet, chatter often develops on a few frequencies,
and may be picked up by the broadcasters. Thus, for example,
they reported during part of the DieHard 500 at Talladega in
April that Earnhardt's crew was craftily trying to convince
crews for other drivers in the lead draft line that the line
moved fastest when his car was in front, and therefore to let
him stay in front - but they evidently did not care for this
argument, for they kept displacing him anyway.
Revealing comments about who would or would not draft with
whom surface in post-race interviews. First-rate drivers with
strong cars, after not doing well at a race at Daytona or
Talladega, typically complain that "nobody would draft with
me," or "my spotter couldn't find anybody to draft with me."
Gordon had even mused, late in his winning streak for the
Winston Cup championship in 1998 (his third), that other
drivers were avoiding him as drafting partners. That may
have been one of his problems this year as well.
While bump-and-run remains the classic act of tactical
treachery, the dynamics of long draft lines make "getting
dumped" an equally classic tactic. One is almost the
antithesis of the other. Instead of nudged from behind,
a driver is indeed dumped - he swings out of line believing
he has a partner to his front or rear, but is betrayed, as
the latter defects and opts to close the line or swing in
another direction. This can happen wherever a driver is
located in a multi-car line.
Another ingenious tactic, one that so far only Earnhardt
and maybe a couple other drivers appear to grasp, works best
if a racer is second in a long line. He moves his car so
close to the leader's as to give it an aero push, maybe even
a bump-draft, that propels it ahead by several car lengths.
Then he waits for the lead car to lose momentum and drift
back to the line. As it does so, the driver in second swings
around, gaining first place and taking the rest of the line
with him, while the former leader falls back to the end of
the line. This is not a bump and run; it is more a push and
run.
the physical dynamics of drafting and applying skillful
driving techniques. It is also depends on interpersonal
communication, dealing and diplomacy. A driver's reputation
as a trustworthy person may affect the outcome as much as his
reputation as a driver.
These are the basic dynamics of long draft lines, and many of
them come together in this Associated Press story about
Earnhardt's win at the Diehard 500 at Talladega in April,
when he crossed the finish line about two car lengths ahead
of Jarrett, the second driver in what had been the lead
draft line:Dale Earnhardt says racing at Alabama's Talladega Superspeedway is like a big game of chess ... . "It's knowing when to move and where to move to," ... . Earnhardt had to make his way back to the lead after a four-tire pit stop dropped him to 16th place. Then, he had to hold off a determined bid by Dale Jarrett over the final four laps on the 2.66-mile, high-banked oval. "Man, it was like who was going to work with who and what was what ... . I was going to settle for second place until the last few laps, but when they got to jumping around, I got out front and stayed with it." ... Jarrett managed to get up to his bumper several times, but never was able to pull alongside. "I was just glad to have the chance just to contend there at the end," Jarrett said. "It seems like every time I finish second here, the guys behind me start racing side-by-side and I don't get any help. That's what happened today."The tables turned at the season's second race at Daytona, the Pepsi 400 in July. Jarrett won, while Earnhardt came in second, two car lengths behind. With three laps left in the race, Earnhardt was preparing to slingshot, with a boost from the racer in third, Jeff Burton, who was running another car length back. Burton and his crew chief had already decided he should follow wherever Earnhardt went, rather than try to pass him. Jarrett knew the attack was inevitable; and while it looked as though he was running flat out, he was already alternately slowing and accelerating his racecar in tiny increments so that Earnhardt could not open enough space for an unpreventable run. Jarrett's win was assured when a yellow-flag caution, the result of a minor wreck in mid pack, consumed the race's final three laps.
"express train" around the outside. Labonte got by Wallace
to gain second. But before Stewart could pass, Wallace swung
to slip between them, and his car made contact with Stewart's
front bumper, causing him to "check up" and slow. Earnhardt
and Burton, who were behind them all, scooted past Stewart,
whose loss of momentum caused him to slide way back in the
lead lines.
Soon afterwards, Wallace, now in third, aimed to regain his
spot from Labonte, and maybe pass Jarrett too. And he believed
Earnhardt, now in fourth, would go with him - Wallace said
so after the race. So he swung to the inside, but then hung
there alone, dumped, as Earnhardt stayed in line and closed
it up behind Labonte. Wallace then fell way back to finish
eleventh, wondering what had gone wrong. Post-race commentary
suspected that Earnhardt defected because, early in the race,
when Wallace was running first, he maneuvered wildly to block
Earnhardt, in second, from passing him. Perhaps Earnhardt
also disapproved of Wallace's crash-risking maneuver to block
Stewart right in front of him.
Those who block inadvisedly are not cherished as drafting
partners, and end up arousing distrust and tit-for-tat
treatment. Curiously, this race was never marred by the usual
"big wreck" - and Wallace was the one credited for having
spoken in the drivers' meeting before the race to caution
all not to take risks by fighting desperately for every position.