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Tiff Needell's column

Tiff gets goosebumps at the Daytona 500

Tiff Needell

By Tiff Needell

06th March 2008

Now, I’ve never been one to shy away from poking a bit of fun at our friends across the pond. But you have to admit, one thing that the Americans do well is showbusiness. Whether it’s in Hollywood for the Oscars, the University of Phoenix Stadium for the Super Bowl or, in my case, the Daytona International Speedway – the self-proclaimed World Center of Racing – for the 50th Daytona 500, when they do it they do it with polished razzmatazz. It’s exactly what Formula One, for all its millions and zillions of pounds and grossly overblown egos, somehow fails to achieve!
 
The Daytona 500 is exactly what Formula One – for all its millions of pounds and overblown egos – fails to achieve

By the time the call came – those famous words “Gentlemen start your engines” – the goosebumps had spread all over my body. The atmosphere, the sense of anticipation, the buzz from the crowd... it was simply awe-inspiring. While all this had been going on, I had been standing on the hallowed grass between the pitlane and the track alongside thousands of fans who had paid a little extra for the privilege – and the start of the race was only 20 minutes away! The pitlane itself was crammed full of the NASCAR racers, all 43 of them, lined up in grid order – and you didn’t have to be a film star or a local dignitary to walk alongside them.

All weekend the fans had been able to watch the cars being prepared through a glass window in every garage – and a little hatch allowed for the odd autograph to be grabbed every now and then. The merchandising stalls were articulated lorries with sides that folded down to reveal the mass of branded wares on offer with high street names emblazoned across most of them. Admittedly, the parking and toilets, which seem to be the crucial criteria for gaining a grand prix fixture, were ‘where and whenever’ you got lucky – and the delight of row upon row of Portaloos was normally as good as it got! But hey, who cares about a bit of queuing or a whiffy toilet when you’re there for the Daytona 500?

I was filming an item on the race for Fifth Gear – due to be shown on 10 March – and one of the things that struck me was everyone seemed to be doing their best to help rather than to hinder. When they see a cameraman, even the hard-worked mechanics will go out of their way to walk around the back so he can get the best shot.

Interviews with all NASCAR’s biggest names were gracefully given, and the most surprising thing was that these guys were not ordered to hide their eyes under sponsored baseball hats or forced to always be seen in their sponsor’s colours. Refreshing, and as open as the answers to all of my questions.

It’s that openness which continues into the race as the fans settle in for the three-and-a-half-hour ‘show’. Most will be tuning in on their radio scanners – to hear not only the commentary but also all the chat between the drivers, their crew chiefs and their all-important spotters who stand atop the grandstands and act as their side and rear view mirrors.

There is little need for spying in Nascar because secrets are virtually impossible to keep. All the entries are now identical, with only the badge and grille stickers on the nose letting you know if it’s a Ford, Chevrolet, Dodge or Toyota V8 under the bonnet – sorry, hood! For all the visual differences between them, Formula One cars might just as well be one shape – and the rule makers could then dictate aerodynamics that aid overtaking. Keep the traction control off, let the manufacturers supply the engines, open up all the airwaves and just imagine how good grand prix racing could be...

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