Last year I wrote that Formula One was a business and not a sport (see vol. 1, no. 11). At the time, I didn't think much about the other racing series and to what extent profit ruled their games. Perhaps I should have.

I spent several days a few weeks ago in Charlotte, North Carolina. I was there on non-racing related matters, but did take some time to visit an friend whom I haven’t seen in 30 years, and who now works for one of the more prominent NASCAR teams. The visit proved to be a real eye-opener. If the cosmopolitan gentlemen of Formula One make more money than the good-old boys from the South, which is highly probable, then they are making more money than an Arab shiek who owns huge oil reserves. In order to protect the anonymity of my friend, I'll simply frame the remainder of this piece in generic terms.

With few exceptions, NASCAR team factories are located just north of Charlotte, principally in the towns of Harrisburg and Mooresville. There, factories are clustered in industrial parks that cater mainly to racing enterprises. My friend gave me a detailed guided tour through the factory in which he works. I saw the engine-building facilities, the frame shop, the body shop, the machine shop, everything. As we walked, we talked. I listened. I observed. I inquired. I inferred. And, I interpreted. I learned a great deal; not so much about race cars, and technology, but about the business itself.

One of the biggest surprises was how much money the driver for this team earned last year —- more than 20 million dollars. That's right folks, money on the order of that rumored to be earned by Michael Schumacher. Now, how, you ask, does a NASCAR driver make this much moola? Let me explain.

The principal sponsor of this team pays six million dollars in order for the car to be painted to look like its product. A secondary sponsor pays a half million bucks to get its logo plastered on the quarter panel. A bevy of residual sponsors, whose small decals are plastered all over the car, pay lesser amounts, but only when the driver wins. In sum, and as best I can estimate, the entire sponsorship package for this car totals about eight million dollars of income to the team. I found this to be about what I expected, but it still doesn't explain how a driver makes multiple millions in a year.

Salary accounts for part of it. The driver, who in this case is a part owner of the team, is paid a cool million dollars simply for his services, win or lose. He also gets 50 percent of all the prize money. This can, of course, vary considerably from one year to the next, but a take-home of one to two million isn't an unreasonable expectation. In sum, the driver makes about three million dollars racing. But, wait a minute, this still leaves more than $17 million unaccounted for. Where does that money come from?

If you said, T-shirts, caps, key chains, cups, and other junk of the sort, you are absolutely correct. The driver in this case, and I have no reason to think he is not typical, has exclusive rights to 100 percent ownership of all merchandise sales.

But, to whom does he sell this stuff? Well, if you hang around one of these industrial parks for a while, you'll see. Beginning about nine o'clock in the morning and continuing until five or six in the evening, there is an endless caravan of fans reminiscent of religious zealots making a pilgrimage to some holy site. And, are these ever an interesting bunch of people.

The typical visitor is not an individual, but rather a family. The principal mode of transportation is a old sedan with maypops, broken springs, and worn upholstery repaired with duct tape; the most common color is bondo. The family consists of a father who has at least three front teeth missing, and looks as though he stepped right off the screen during the movie "Deliverence." The mother weighs about three hundred pounds and is dressed in what can only be described as a very big sack. The kids, all five or six of them, are barefoot and snot-nosed. Signs of inbreeding are clear. As unattractive as these people are, they all share one very striking characteristic. They are decked-out in new T-shirts and caps. They are there to have their "pitcher takin' with _______"(fill in the name of the driver whose likeness appears on the T-shirts). Of course, the chances of even seeing their hero are slim, so these folks content themselves with a picture taken by the sign in front of the factory.

These are the "families" which conservative politicians would like us to believe have high "values." Are they piling on the BS, or what? These families spend money on things they clearly cannot afford. But, who cares? They don't. And, the drivers they admire certainly don't. Perhaps, the American tax-payers who pick-up these people's food stamp, health care, and welfare bills should, but that is another matter.

But, what does this have to do with racing, and especially Formula One? Well, for one thing Winston Cup racing isn't really racing in the truest sense of the term. Look at the technical regulations which dictate parity between teams and qualifying times. Consider also the points system (185 for winning, 175 for second, 170 for third....). Now, factor in 400 to 600 mile races with lots of pit stops and yellow flags which serve to neutralize things, and keep someone from running away from the field. Predicting who will win is virtually impossible. And, what purpose does this equity serve? Well, it certainly has nothing to do with who builds the fastest car and which driver possesses better skills. These lengthy, crash-filled, multiple pit stop events serve only to whip the rednecks into a merchandise-buying frenzy. Sure, there is victory, but what do the winners do in victory lane? They thank God, kiss their wife and kids, and, of course, ADVERTISE MERCHANDISE.

Are things different in Formula One? Sure they are. Or are they? NASCAR fans, I am sure, do not think they are being exploited. They think that racing is a sport and a form of entertainment. They seem to have forgotten that whiskey-runners with whom NASCAR originated were businessmen, not sportsmen. The idea that racing is one big marketing scheme is beyond their comprehension. The same might hold true for Formula One. We are led to believe that Formula One is the highest form of motor racing. The "I can build a car that goes faster than your car" mentality is promoted openly. Technological advances are advocated and announced publicly. But, to what degree does the rhetoric of the past reflect the reality of the present? Perhaps there was once a day when racing was indeed racing. But, is victory really the goal today? Or, could it be that fans are merely the objects, perhaps even victims, of an elaborate money-making scheme? It should not be forgotten that Bernie Ecclestone, Ron Dennis, and Frank Williams all made the list of Britain’s 500 richest people.

Hmmm. Perhaps we should question our interest in Formula One. If a NASCAR driver can pull in $20 million, just how much does Michael Schumacher earn? Personally, I don't care. However, I am beginning to wonder about what we are being sold, figuratively and literally. Do we really want to buy it? There may be a secret that certain parties would prefer not be publicized.

Shhhh. Charlotte is sleeping...perhaps with FOCA.