Bending Rules
South Florida Sun-Sentinel
By Ed Hinton
November 12, 2006
Retired to his mansion and cattle farm in the Blue Ridge foothills of North Carolina, living legend Junior Johnson can still watch a NASCAR race on television and tell you whose car is legal and whose isn't.
His formula is simple: 'Anybody who runs legal is gonna run behind,' Johnson maintains.
But watch your language around the maestro of -- uh -- 'It's not cheating,' Johnson said. 'It's being competitive.'
Whatever it is, it's not just a colorful part of NASCAR lore. It's an ongoing, relentless quest for technical advantages.
The 2006 season couldn't even get started without a cheating uproar that stemmed from qualifying for the Daytona 500. Even this fall's Chase, NASCAR's modern playoff system, opened with rumors and allegations of stretching the rules.
Johnson learned to soup up engines to be 'competitive' against law enforcement in 'a race to win or go to prison,' as he calls it. He was the most notorious of all moonshine runners. He was never caught on the road. His one federal prison stint came after he was caught on foot at his father's still.
Then he applied his skills to NASCAR, winning 50 races as a driver and 140 more as a car owner. Throughout, he was always trying something new.
'I always tried to take the thing to the very edge of whether you're right or wrong,' he said. 'And they [NASCAR] make that decision.'
When Jimmie Johnson's crew chief, Chad Knaus, was suspended from this year's Daytona 500 and three ensuing races and fined $25,000, 'he got out light,' Junior Johnson said. 'Most of the time they suspended me for like two or three months, fined me $60,000 I think twice.'
Knaus' car was found to have a tricked-up rear window meant to improve aerodynamic performance for time trials at Daytona. Knaus was immediately ejected from Daytona International Speedway, although the gimmick was corrected and the car passed later inspections, and Jimmie Johnson went on to win the race.
'If I was there, I'd be doing the same thing [Knaus] is doing,' Junior Johnson said. 'I'd be getting the advantage if I could.'
After Kevin Harvick won the Chase's opening race at Loudon, N.H., on Sept. 17, a television report maintained NASCAR inspectors found tweaked wheels that might allow 'bleeding,' or relief of tire pressure that builds up on long runs. Such venting might improve handling.
It wasn't illegal, but Speed Channel reported Harvick's team was told not to bring the gimmick back. The team, Richard Childress Racing -- which also fields Chevrolets for another Chase contender, Jeff Burton -- issued a vehement denial that it had been told not to bring anything back. NASCAR followed with its own denial, but Speed Channel stood by its story.
The team drew no penalty. But what was plausible about scrutiny was that Harvick's crew chief, Todd Berrier, like Knaus, had a history of pushing the rules beyond the limit.
Twice last year, Berrier had been penalized for qualifying gimmicks -- a gas tank made to appear full when it was almost empty (making the car lighter) for a qualifying run at Las Vegas, and a venting system in the trunk to facilitate aerodynamics at Talladega, Ala.
'I'd be nuts to say we don't pay attention to who we're dealing with,' acknowledges John Darby, NASCAR's Nextel Cup director -- the top cop in charge of technical enforcement. The inspection process remains the same for all, Darby said, but 'when it gets to the point where any competitor continues to show more of a lack of respect for the rules and insists upon trying to wrongfully gain an advantage ... then we have to pay more attention.'
Junior Johnson was the most marked man among all car owners throughout his career, he maintains.
'It was a constant thing,' he said. 'They had two or three [inspectors] just following around, looking and watching.'
Even during his suspension, Knaus guaranteed that upon his return, 'We're not going to go out there and pull punches.' That is, he remains as aggressive as ever in seeking technological edges.
Junior Johnson understands: 'He's saying he's gonna go as far as he can go to win the race. I think that's the attitude I would take too. I wouldn't back down.'
OLDER THAN HILLS Cheating is not merely as old as NASCAR. It is older. In 1938, nearly a decade before Bill France Sr. founded the organization, the winner of a race he promoted in Daytona Beach was disqualified. Carl 'Smokey' Purser was suspected of using illegal cylinder heads on his Ford, but wouldn't submit to postrace inspection.
When, toward the end of the Great Depression, bootleggers brought 'liquor cars' out of the Appalachians to race on dirt tracks as 'stock cars,' they came winking and smirking.
Making hot cars appear to be 'stock' was exactly what they were best at. In the whiskey trade, 'You had to fix your car to where it looked normal going down the highway,' Johnson recalls.
'If you didn't, every cop would jump on you.'
At the very first race for what is now the NASCAR Nextel Cup series, at Charlotte in 1949, winner Glenn Dunnaway was disqualified for using heavy-duty springs, left over on the car from moonshine runs.
Knaus' ejection this year came on the 30th anniversary of a much larger furor.
In 1976, notoriously tough A.J. Foyt and fiery young Darrell Waltrip were disqualified from the front row of the Daytona 500. Both were suspected of using nitrous oxide gas, sprayed from concealed bottles into the carburetor, for momentary but enormous bursts of extra horsepower.
Foyt still gets riled about 'the time they throwed me off the pole -- said I was cheatin'.'
That remains a fighting word to Foyt.
`RATTED OUT'
Junior Johnson, based on his own experience, suspects NASCAR might have been tipped off to Knaus' infractions.
The situation sounds a lot like 'when they caught me at Daytona [in the early '90s],' Johnson said. 'I guess it was the last time I was caught. That day, when that car rolled up to the inspection station, Gary Nelson [NASCAR's chief enforcer at the time] was talking with a guy I'd just had to fire because he wouldn't work. He'd called Gary Nelson and told him [what was illegal in the car].
'No human being would have ever caught it,' Johnson felt certain, 'unless somebody told.'
But in the Knaus case, 'Oddly enough, we didn't' get any tips, Darby maintains. 'Although I'll be the first to admit we get a tremendous amount of intelligence from the garage area.'
NASCAR's best information always has come from competitors telling on competitors.
That last time Junior Johnson was 'ratted out,' as he calls it, his device defeated the purpose of carburetor restrictor plates. The carburetor and intake manifold looked normal to inspectors. But on the track, with the engine revved up, the mechanism 'sucked the plate up, so that the air would go all the way around the outside of it,' Johnson recalls. That enhanced combustion, and therefore horsepower.
Caught with that, Johnson went home and 'kept working. I didn't give up.' He achieved the same effect by another method -- one NASCAR never caught, right through the day in 1995 when Johnson retired.
SEEK SMALLEST EDGE In Johnson's era, big advantages were sought. But rules and inspection methods have become so precise, and competition so close, that teams now seek advantages that are a tiny fraction of the edges they used to find.
With the evolution of precision policing, 'the engines, for all practical purposes, are locked down,' Darby said. 'The chassis is pretty well locked down. The most active frontier today is in the world of aerodynamics.'
Darby's deputies know what to look for, depending on the track. 'At Daytona and Talladega [NASCAR's biggest tracks], you want the least amount of downforce; you're trying to cheat the air. ... If there's a way I can make my car believe it's got a shorter spoiler on it, even though it doesn't, that's what I need to do.'
That 'absolutely' was Knaus' intent, Darby said.
'At all the other races, you want as much [air hitting the spoiler] as you can, because you can't get enough,' Darby said. 'When we go to a nonrestricted track, we know ... they're going to do things to try to let the spoiler see more air. You do that by narrowing up the back corners of the car [bodywork] and lowering the roofs.'
Darby and the inspectors believe they've got cheating cornered to a few gray areas.
Junior Johnson isn't so sure. 'There's so many ways people can get around the rules, it's not even funny,' he said.
'They [NASCAR] preach that they want all the cars to be equal, nobody cheating to stink up their show. But if you're a racer, you're gonna gamble. And there's nothing they'll be able to do about it.'
By Ed Hinton
November 12, 2006
Retired to his mansion and cattle farm in the Blue Ridge foothills of North Carolina, living legend Junior Johnson can still watch a NASCAR race on television and tell you whose car is legal and whose isn't.
His formula is simple: 'Anybody who runs legal is gonna run behind,' Johnson maintains.
But watch your language around the maestro of -- uh -- 'It's not cheating,' Johnson said. 'It's being competitive.'
Whatever it is, it's not just a colorful part of NASCAR lore. It's an ongoing, relentless quest for technical advantages.
The 2006 season couldn't even get started without a cheating uproar that stemmed from qualifying for the Daytona 500. Even this fall's Chase, NASCAR's modern playoff system, opened with rumors and allegations of stretching the rules.
Johnson learned to soup up engines to be 'competitive' against law enforcement in 'a race to win or go to prison,' as he calls it. He was the most notorious of all moonshine runners. He was never caught on the road. His one federal prison stint came after he was caught on foot at his father's still.
Then he applied his skills to NASCAR, winning 50 races as a driver and 140 more as a car owner. Throughout, he was always trying something new.
'I always tried to take the thing to the very edge of whether you're right or wrong,' he said. 'And they [NASCAR] make that decision.'
When Jimmie Johnson's crew chief, Chad Knaus, was suspended from this year's Daytona 500 and three ensuing races and fined $25,000, 'he got out light,' Junior Johnson said. 'Most of the time they suspended me for like two or three months, fined me $60,000 I think twice.'
Knaus' car was found to have a tricked-up rear window meant to improve aerodynamic performance for time trials at Daytona. Knaus was immediately ejected from Daytona International Speedway, although the gimmick was corrected and the car passed later inspections, and Jimmie Johnson went on to win the race.
'If I was there, I'd be doing the same thing [Knaus] is doing,' Junior Johnson said. 'I'd be getting the advantage if I could.'
After Kevin Harvick won the Chase's opening race at Loudon, N.H., on Sept. 17, a television report maintained NASCAR inspectors found tweaked wheels that might allow 'bleeding,' or relief of tire pressure that builds up on long runs. Such venting might improve handling.
It wasn't illegal, but Speed Channel reported Harvick's team was told not to bring the gimmick back. The team, Richard Childress Racing -- which also fields Chevrolets for another Chase contender, Jeff Burton -- issued a vehement denial that it had been told not to bring anything back. NASCAR followed with its own denial, but Speed Channel stood by its story.
The team drew no penalty. But what was plausible about scrutiny was that Harvick's crew chief, Todd Berrier, like Knaus, had a history of pushing the rules beyond the limit.
Twice last year, Berrier had been penalized for qualifying gimmicks -- a gas tank made to appear full when it was almost empty (making the car lighter) for a qualifying run at Las Vegas, and a venting system in the trunk to facilitate aerodynamics at Talladega, Ala.
'I'd be nuts to say we don't pay attention to who we're dealing with,' acknowledges John Darby, NASCAR's Nextel Cup director -- the top cop in charge of technical enforcement. The inspection process remains the same for all, Darby said, but 'when it gets to the point where any competitor continues to show more of a lack of respect for the rules and insists upon trying to wrongfully gain an advantage ... then we have to pay more attention.'
Junior Johnson was the most marked man among all car owners throughout his career, he maintains.
'It was a constant thing,' he said. 'They had two or three [inspectors] just following around, looking and watching.'
Even during his suspension, Knaus guaranteed that upon his return, 'We're not going to go out there and pull punches.' That is, he remains as aggressive as ever in seeking technological edges.
Junior Johnson understands: 'He's saying he's gonna go as far as he can go to win the race. I think that's the attitude I would take too. I wouldn't back down.'
OLDER THAN HILLS Cheating is not merely as old as NASCAR. It is older. In 1938, nearly a decade before Bill France Sr. founded the organization, the winner of a race he promoted in Daytona Beach was disqualified. Carl 'Smokey' Purser was suspected of using illegal cylinder heads on his Ford, but wouldn't submit to postrace inspection.
When, toward the end of the Great Depression, bootleggers brought 'liquor cars' out of the Appalachians to race on dirt tracks as 'stock cars,' they came winking and smirking.
Making hot cars appear to be 'stock' was exactly what they were best at. In the whiskey trade, 'You had to fix your car to where it looked normal going down the highway,' Johnson recalls.
'If you didn't, every cop would jump on you.'
At the very first race for what is now the NASCAR Nextel Cup series, at Charlotte in 1949, winner Glenn Dunnaway was disqualified for using heavy-duty springs, left over on the car from moonshine runs.
Knaus' ejection this year came on the 30th anniversary of a much larger furor.
In 1976, notoriously tough A.J. Foyt and fiery young Darrell Waltrip were disqualified from the front row of the Daytona 500. Both were suspected of using nitrous oxide gas, sprayed from concealed bottles into the carburetor, for momentary but enormous bursts of extra horsepower.
Foyt still gets riled about 'the time they throwed me off the pole -- said I was cheatin'.'
That remains a fighting word to Foyt.
`RATTED OUT'
Junior Johnson, based on his own experience, suspects NASCAR might have been tipped off to Knaus' infractions.
The situation sounds a lot like 'when they caught me at Daytona [in the early '90s],' Johnson said. 'I guess it was the last time I was caught. That day, when that car rolled up to the inspection station, Gary Nelson [NASCAR's chief enforcer at the time] was talking with a guy I'd just had to fire because he wouldn't work. He'd called Gary Nelson and told him [what was illegal in the car].
'No human being would have ever caught it,' Johnson felt certain, 'unless somebody told.'
But in the Knaus case, 'Oddly enough, we didn't' get any tips, Darby maintains. 'Although I'll be the first to admit we get a tremendous amount of intelligence from the garage area.'
NASCAR's best information always has come from competitors telling on competitors.
That last time Junior Johnson was 'ratted out,' as he calls it, his device defeated the purpose of carburetor restrictor plates. The carburetor and intake manifold looked normal to inspectors. But on the track, with the engine revved up, the mechanism 'sucked the plate up, so that the air would go all the way around the outside of it,' Johnson recalls. That enhanced combustion, and therefore horsepower.
Caught with that, Johnson went home and 'kept working. I didn't give up.' He achieved the same effect by another method -- one NASCAR never caught, right through the day in 1995 when Johnson retired.
SEEK SMALLEST EDGE In Johnson's era, big advantages were sought. But rules and inspection methods have become so precise, and competition so close, that teams now seek advantages that are a tiny fraction of the edges they used to find.
With the evolution of precision policing, 'the engines, for all practical purposes, are locked down,' Darby said. 'The chassis is pretty well locked down. The most active frontier today is in the world of aerodynamics.'
Darby's deputies know what to look for, depending on the track. 'At Daytona and Talladega [NASCAR's biggest tracks], you want the least amount of downforce; you're trying to cheat the air. ... If there's a way I can make my car believe it's got a shorter spoiler on it, even though it doesn't, that's what I need to do.'
That 'absolutely' was Knaus' intent, Darby said.
'At all the other races, you want as much [air hitting the spoiler] as you can, because you can't get enough,' Darby said. 'When we go to a nonrestricted track, we know ... they're going to do things to try to let the spoiler see more air. You do that by narrowing up the back corners of the car [bodywork] and lowering the roofs.'
Darby and the inspectors believe they've got cheating cornered to a few gray areas.
Junior Johnson isn't so sure. 'There's so many ways people can get around the rules, it's not even funny,' he said.
'They [NASCAR] preach that they want all the cars to be equal, nobody cheating to stink up their show. But if you're a racer, you're gonna gamble. And there's nothing they'll be able to do about it.'
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