The fallow period during World War II left the future of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway much in doubt. The pictures of the dilapidated plant told the story. In an oft repeated tale three-time winner Wilbur Shaw was instrumental in convincing Terre Haute businessman Anton “Tony” Hulman to purchase and save the racetrack. Still, no one knew for sure what the public reaction would be at the end of hostilities. Then when the gates swung wide in 1946 a massive crowd arrived.

The years that followed solidified the Indianapolis 500 as an iconic American event. It is tempting to suggest that Hulman, Shaw and company had read the tea leaves correctly. From there one might conclude that the team at IMS were promotional wizards. Yet, once when talking to Dave Cassady, a long time Hulman family associate, IMS employee, and the general manager of the second generation 16th Street Speedway he made a stunning observation. Pondering all that transpired in the 1950s and 60s Cassady simply said, “We just got lucky.”  In his mind the success was a matter of time and place.

Fast forward several decades. There was a time when NASCAR exploded in popularity. Suddenly it was discussed as one of the major sports in America. In fact, at the time of the first Brickyard 400 it was argued that NASCAR might supplant IndyCar as the most popular series at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. The NASCAR marketers were also seen as near geniuses. A book was published titled The NASCAR Way, which seemed to simply extoll the virtues of sponsor activation. What happened since? Grandstands have been sold or demolished, and to bring this point home further I can share that I was on the public address team for the first ever races at Kentucky Speedway and Pikes Peak International Raceway. Additionally, I also announced at Chicagoland for years, and I worked at least a half dozen times at California Speedway. They all have one thing in common now.

So, what’s my point? Two recent DIRTRACKR Daily shows raised critical issues (and debate) that have become increasingly relevant. First, following the opening night of High Limit racing at Golden Isles Speedway a reminder was offered that race promotion is hard. In what follows I try to lay out a basic template that notes some of the key variables involved in this intricate process at this point in time. Second, I was struck by the conversation about Logan Seavey and whether a move to wing sprint cars would increase his profile and stature in the racing universe. While many issues are embedded in that conversation it also begs the question about the role of organizations to promote their stars and how best to do it. 

Let’s start with the first matter. As the most basic barometer of the health of short track racing, concerns about declining attendance have raged for decades. There seems little doubt that the intensity of the conversation has ramped up with the advent of streaming. Rarely do these discussions about streaming situate the issue amid other cultural trends. To illustrate, I ended my career in academia as an Associate Dean. Pre-COVID I would never have imagined having to specify to staff and applicants that spending time in the office was expected. We eventually had to specify the expectation in job descriptions. The truth is people have become more accustomed to staying home and some have now gotten out of the habit of going to the racetrack. This is a difficult trend to reverse. I’m not about to try to unpack the wide-ranging impact of streaming on the health of a short track but will only agree that it is an issue worthy of discussion. 

What does get wearisome is the same old fan response to the issue of dwindling crowds. It starts with the sentence, there just aren’t many real promoters anymore. I see this statement made ad nauseum. That observation is a relic of a world that no longer exists. This is spurned by a romantic vision of legends like J.C. Agajanian driving through L.A. dragging a racecar behind a Cadillac, posters nailed to telephone poles, catchy advertisements in the local newspaper, and radio ads that proclaim (loudly) Sunday, Sunday, Sunday.

Let’s start with some basics. I gave up on the Indianapolis Star years ago. The paper got thinner and thinner, the columns were written by people miles away, the local reporter’s jobs were slashed, and all the while the price went up. As much as this statement might be decried, even reading the paper had been viewed as an old person’s habit. I’m old and I quit. The racing media was not immune to these developments. I couldn’t wait to review advertisements in National Speed Sport News and Hawkeye Racing News. The former is now digital only, the latter is gone altogether. Radio? One of the longest standing A.M. radio stations in Indianapolis locked its doors, and satellite radio puts all local stations in peril. For the record Brady Bacon, who promotes a Silver Crown race at Indiana’s Winchester Speedway told me he looked into purchasing some radio spots and concluded it consumed too much of his promotions budget. He doubted it would bring in enough additional bodies to offset the cost. 

The temptation is to suggest that social media can fill that gap. There is some merit to this. I hated it when the print publications that published my stories went away. I loved holding a physical copy of my work in my hands. Yet, I have quickly realized that more people have read my articles in recent years than nearly ever before. With the ability to retweet, repost, and share, some content gets more play. I was shocked at how many views a column I wrote on announcer Blake Anderson generated. Yet, even with that there is a problem. The posts that cross your eyes every day are there for a reason. They reflect your interests. A social media post about an upcoming race does not generally appear on the screen of someone who has not been exposed to the sport.

I’m not saying that hand-to-hand combat doesn’t help. Posters still may work, and dragging a car through town on an open trailer is not a bad idea. However, the pressing issue is time. Thus, for those who loudly complain about the lack of promotion let me suggest one brief exercise. Call your favorite local track and ask to be transferred to the public relations department. In the vast majority of cases there is no switchboard, and the role doesn’t exist. If there is someone in that slot, they likely have a passion for racing and another job. In essence they are volunteers. In Indiana I work primarily at J. S. Promotions tracks. On race day Joe Spiker can generally be found covered in mud and on a grader or pack truck, while Jill Spiker is working in the office, at the front gate, or cooking cheeseburgers in the concession stand. That’s the reality.

There has also been a shift in the lifestyle of the average fan. Years ago, I was working a NASCAR/USAC weekend at what is now known as World Wide Technology Raceway. I asked a key member of the leadership team about advance ticket sales. They were weak. I then asked if he was hopeful of getting a good walk up crowd. He told me the days of a walk up crowd are over. Then going forward he added in present time no one makes a last minute decision to drop a significant amount of money at the local racetrack. In his opinion, the life of many families is more structured than ever before and filled with things like youth sports. My hunch that his is even more pronounced today. 

In essence old school promoters that so many tout as examples of excellence in the art operated in a world that no longer exists. 

The addendum to all of this is the second most common post I read addressing the issue of attendance. Here the rath turns to the sanctioning bodies. I can be more specific here because it hits closer to home. Almost instantly after the DIRTRACKR discussion about Logan Seavey’s future several keyboard warriors knew precisely where to point that finger. It was stated bluntly that the problem is that USAC just doesn’t promote. Let’s get this out of the way quickly. On the surface level that statement is pure bunk. The USAC team pumps out stories, stats, and videos in copious amounts every single day. There is more of this kind of production than ever before. Whether this can or should be done differently engenders a different discussion.

First, let’s take an historical interlude. There was a time when the USAC brass would have wholeheartedly agreed with today’s grouchy critic and did so on philosophical grounds. When the late USAC Vice President Dick Jordan was queried about his organization’s promotional efforts more often than not his response was “that’s the race organizers job.” That stance has undoubtedly softened, but where the boundary lies remains an interesting consideration.

It is an issue worth putting a bit under the microscope. Consider this. A racing series like the World of Outlaws, High Limit, or USAC is not unlike a musical act on tour. A product is offered, and a venue or entity independently determines if they are interested in purchasing the product. The contract that follows generally spells out the needs and expectations of each party. There can be any number of nuances, and often that becomes the point of negotiation. 

In an odd way this can be considered a form of risk management. At one pole the act specifies the price, the host agrees, and the event is staged. To return to a racing example if a series books a date under these terms, it doesn’t technically matter in the immediate moment if there are ten people in the stands or ten thousand. The check they receive is the same. A deal just like this one struck a crippling blow to Kokomo Speedway years ago. The reason this happened is simple. The risk fell squarely on the shoulders of the host. At the other extreme the sanctioning body either owns or rents the venue. For example, the National Hot Rod Association owns Indianapolis Raceway Park. The U.S. Nationals is their baby. Basic track rentals are far more common. Again, the devil is in the details, with concession revenue usually an important item. The difference here is that the risk falls more heavily on the sanctioning body. They absolutely care how many butts are in the seats because they now absorb a loss if one occurs. Advance publicity is now primarily their responsibility. 

Pure models when touring series are involved are rarer. I can tell from direct involvement that many track operators request or expect help on the promotional side from sanctioning bodies. Sometimes they look to the outside entity to help them secure an external sponsor, or they hope that an overall series sponsor may provide some specific support. Thus, when the relationship is more akin to a partnership, risk and reward are shared. 

Understanding all the variables at play in a given event can help explain behavior. Take cancelling a race due to inclement weather. In the basic traditional model if a series does not race the total sanctioning fee and purse does not get paid. Thus, unless there are other intervening variables there is a built in incentive to get a race in at all costs. On the promoters’ side it is again a matter of scaling your losses. Understand this. Any race day cancellation costs a promoter some money yet running a race at one-third capacity can be a devastating hit. 

There are other variations on this theme. When Kent Evans owned Kokomo Speedway, he booked a World of Outlaws race knowing full well that if anything he was going to break even. However, he felt that having the Outlaws at his track validated his operation. In a similar fashion, a racing series may elect to promote a race with longer range goals in mind. For example, when the USAC Silver Crown series was in recovery mode after the end of the so called “new generation” car era it was important to have dates even if some were run at a loss. You weren’t going to get former owners to drag their cars out of the shop if there weren’t enough dates to justify the effort. 

It is self-evident that over time it is vital to all parties that the stands are filled, and interest remains high. If the crowd for your product is consistently subpar, there will be fewer takers for what you are offering, or willing to pay the current rate. If a track deems that you bring little additional value to the table, you aren’t likely to return. There is a reason some highly popular musical acts are now only found in backwoods casinos. 

In the end could NASCAR have predicted the exponential growth and then nearly self-correcting decline cycle in popularity? I doubt it. Were Tony Hulman, and his IMS team truly just lucky? Maybe. That being said, if you are a track or a series it is important to consider what variables you can control and how you can best move the needle. 

So how do we sell what we have? How do we increase demand and cast a wider net? I pondered this as I considered the Seavey question. 

Movers and shakers in professional basketball have clearly decided that the best way to draw attention to their product is to shine the brightest light on the biggest stars. I can tell you as an Indiana Pacers season ticket holder I have sat inside our fieldhouse and watched hundreds of die-hard Cleveland fans become hard core Miami fans, then hard core Cleveland fans again, and now somehow, they are hardcore Lakers fans. They weren’t fans of the team at all, they were fans of LeBron James. 

So, what is the right balance to strike in racing? The necessity to understand these processes at a deeper level may be upon us. Has the World of Outlaws been the most popular sprint car body in America? Yes. Are they in a dogfight now? It would seem so. Do the stars of USAC deserve greater attention? Of course.

Let’s engage in a thought experiment. If forced to make a choice where should a series focus most of their energy and money? Is it promoting the series as a whole or individual drivers and teams? It’s a tricky balancing act. I worked several ASA stock car races in the 1990’s. The racing was good, and the group had stars, heroes, and villains. At Michigan’s Berlin Raceway almost the minute the cars hit the track the crowd was in a frenzy cheering their favorites and booing their enemies. There was no such reaction 270 miles south at Indianapolis Raceway Park where the key ASA protagonists had minimal constituents. Where Mike Eddy and Bob Senneker provoked strong emotions in their home state those feelings were muted in Indiana. The crowds reflected the difference. 

When Formula 1 raced at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway a few decades ago there was interest, but nothing like the attention the series has garnered in Austin, Texas, and Las Vegas. What’s the difference? It seems clear that Formula 1 has gained a strong foothold in America by enticing those marginally interested in racing with visions of the glitz and glamour of an international series. They’ve sold a lifestyle. 

I’m not quite sure how that translates in sprint car racing, but it does appear that some of the behind the scenes documentaries and look-ins appear to have captured the attention of a broader audience. Thus, figuring out how to creatively market your key stars as interesting and compelling people may become an important key to survival. This goes beyond wins and losses and basic statistics. It is also something that participants have to take seriously. They must become active partners in the enterprise. In the end this can benefit all of the key stakeholders.

Addressing all of these questions is important. It may require looking for answers in places well outside the realm of motorsports and mining the intelligence of others in the entertainment industry. The bottom line is that race promotion in today’s world is hard and risky work. One thing for certain. Complicated problems are never effectively addressed by simple solutions.