A New Foreign Policy
NASCAR's Deal With Toyota Is Ruffling Some Feathers

By Liz Clarke
Washington Post Staff Writer
Sunday, May 11, 2003; Page E01

The announcement in February that Toyota would become the first foreign automaker to compete in NASCAR's top ranks was trumpeted as stunning evidence of stock-car racing's far-reaching appeal and another example of the 21st century's global economy.

With it, a pillar of the NASCAR rulebook -- that races are open to "American-made" vehicles only -- was finessed to permit the Japanese manufacturer in the Craftsman Truck Series, in which Detroit's Big Three do battle in the form of hopped-up Ford F-150s, Chevrolet Silverados and Dodge Rams.

But now come rumblings of a backlash against Toyota even though its Tundra pickup is made entirely in the United States -- the essential caveat that cleared its entry into NASCAR.

"You've got Yao Ming in the NBA, and Hideo Nomo in baseball, which is fine. But leave ONE American pastime an American sport!" says Charles Walker, a columnist for the racing Web site Catchfence.com. "When you start including Toyota -- and now there are rumors of Nissan -- where do you stop?"

It's not only the notion of a Japanese nameplate in truck racing that has hard-core fans upset. More alarming in their eyes is the prospect, now considered inevitable, of Toyota entering its Camry sedan (developed by Illinois native Dave Jacobsen out of his garage in Naperville) in NASCAR's Winston Cup series, the most hallowed division of stock-car racing.

"Camry is too sissy of a name for an 800-horsepower, roaring monster of a NASCAR racecar," wrote Bill Lawrence in a recent column posted on Stockcarcity.com.

As Walker explains: "Nobody wants to go to work on Monday and say, 'The guy in the Toyota beat [Dale] Earnhardt Jr. yesterday.' America is the home of the muscle cars. And who wants to say, 'Our American hot-rod got whipped by a rice-rocket!' "

It's hardly the first time xenophobia has afflicted motor sports.

Open-wheel fans booed when a Honda-powered racecar made its debut in the Indianapolis 500 in 1994, but resentment turned to admiration as Honda roared to three consecutive championships (with Jimmy Vasser in 1996; Alex Zanardi, 1997-98). Toyota also won in the CART series before jumping to the rival Indy Racing League, where it became the motor of choice among top teams and is favored to win the upcoming Indy 500 in its maiden IRL campaign.

But fans of open-wheel racing are more likely than NASCAR followers to drive high-performance imports themselves and are accustomed to cheering for Mercedes and Honda, as well as drivers named Mario and Jacques.

NASCAR fans are a different breed. With deep roots in the Southeast, their loyalty resides in the American flag and Detroit ingenuity. They view each race as a morality play pitting Ford against Chevy, Junior against Jeff. And they pass down their heroes from one generation to the next like a sacred family covenant.

After his column, "Toyota, NASCAR and Maybe a Little Patriotism," appeared on the Internet this spring, Walker was bombarded with e-mails from impassioned fans. Roughly 80 percent saluted his stance that NASCAR should "stay American."

"The 'N' in NASCAR stands for 'National!' NOT 'International!' " wrote a fan named Butch. "Let one thing remain American!"

Another wrote: "The moment a foreign-make wins, I will turn it off."

Says Walker, "Several of them just wrote, 'AMEN!' "

NASCAR executives are aware of the potential for a backlash when Toyota enters the truck series, but downplay their concerns.

"That will work its way out," said Jim Hunter, NASCAR's vice president of corporate communications. "It gives the fan another opportunity to either pull against or pull for another brand."

Toyota officials are sensitive to it as well. That's partly why they're tiptoeing into the sport, following the strategy Dodge employed when it returned to NASCAR after a 25-year hiatus.

"There was a master plan," said John Fernandez, director of Dodge Motorsports. "We started with trucks, and it was very successful for us. It had tremendous positive image rub off for our trucks as a performance product. The obvious next step was to go up to Winston Cup."

Toyota will debut its 750-horsepower Tundra racing truck in February 2004 at Daytona International Speedway. If all goes well, Toyota is expected to enter Winston Cup, which has served as the near-exclusive playground of Ford and General Motors for decades, with the Camry in 2006 or 2007.

To do so, however, Toyota would have to clear two remaining hurdles. It must build a NASCAR-approved pushrod engine for the fuel-injected sedan. And it would have to prove that Camry is an "American-made" car. Currently, roughly 60 percent of Camrys sold in the United States are built in Kentucky.

Les Unger, Toyota's national motor sports manager, insists there is no timetable for entering Winston Cup, but acknowledges interest.

Said Unger: "If, over the next two or three years, we feel that our involvement [in truck racing] has been beneficial for us, and also if NASCAR feels that it is working well -- that there is fan acceptance over time, which we think there will be -- is [Winston Cup] something we will look at? Yes. No question."

But the resistance isn't coming only from fans. There are less vocal but equally troubled critics among NASCAR car owners and drivers who fear that Toyota's deep pockets will drive up the costs of racing and skew stock-car racing's finely tuned competitive balance.

Whether in CART, the IRL, sports cars or off-road racing, Toyota is known throughout motor sports for spending what it takes to win. Unger concedes that the automaker's reputation has created unease. But while Toyota's goal is winning races, he says, Toyota understands it will have to share NASCAR's Victory Lane with Ford, Chevy and Dodge.

"Whenever Toyota gets involved in any competitive arena -- whether it be building cars, building trucks, marketing, competing in motor sports -- we have the reputation of the company to consider," Unger says. "Motor sports is a form of advertising. When a person watches a race, that person sees: 'Is that company doing okay, or are they getting their butts kicked? Are they competitive?' We want to, and will be, very conscious of being a good [NASCAR] corporate citizen. We do not believe for a moment that the competitive balance, if you will, that is out there right now with Ford, Chevy and Dodge is going to be, quote unquote, upset. We will be an added competition."

A level playing field has been central to NASCAR since it was founded in 1948 under a rulebook designed to keep the competition close, affordable and restricted to "American-made passenger car production sedans." That language was inserted by NASCAR founder Bill France Sr., who had both pragmatism and marketing in mind.

In NASCAR's formative years most drivers salvaged their racecars from junkyards. Restricting the field to the late-model castoffs that littered the South in the 1950s and '60s kept costs low enough so lots of drivers could compete. France also believed fans could relate to the sport better if the drivers raced the same cars that sat in American driveways.

The sport that evolved proved riveting entertainment and a powerful advertising vehicle for the Big Three automakers, who found that whatever car won on Sunday sold on Monday.

Much has changed in NASCAR's 55-year history. Today's drivers are polished corporate pitchmen with multimillion-dollar incomes and matinee-idol looks. TV ratings are second only to the NFL.

The sport has outgrown its Southeastern confines and now draws crowds of 140,000 in markets like Chicago, Las Vegas and Los Angeles. But its core audience has remained true to the values held dear in the South: Pride in an honest day's work, and love of God and country.

That's why Toyota's arrival is so significant.

Both NASCAR and Japan's largest automaker stand to gain from the association.

Toyota is already winning the race on the American showroom floor, outselling comparable sedans made by Ford, Chevy, Pontiac and Dodge by a hefty margin.

In entering NASCAR's truck series, Toyota has two objectives: Increase its sales in the highly competitive SUV market and promote the Tundra as an American-made vehicle.

"It's an awareness-generator," Unger says.

NASCAR, for its part, can point to Toyota's involvement as evidence that it has evolved from its regional confines into a truly national, and arguably global, sport.

It gains another business partner that's willing to invest millions of its own money to promote the sport. And in diversifying the competitive ranks, NASCAR protects itself if any of the U.S. automakers hemorrhaging money are forced to pull out of the sport.

No doubt thorny issues are ahead -- not the least of which, for NASCAR, is defining just what is an American car. Is it a car that's built entirely in the United States? A car built with foreign parts but assembled in the United States? A car built in the United States for a company based in Japan? Or a car built for a German company that bought what once was an American company?

Despite such vagaries, three-time NASCAR Winston Cup champion Cale Yarborough has no trouble embracing stock-car racing's new world order. A Southerner with a drawl as thick as motor oil, Yarborough, 64, retired from racing long ago and now owns two car dealerships in Florence, S.C. -- one sells Hondas; the other, Mazdas.

"We never would have thought about this in my day," Yarborough says. "But since Toyota and Honda and other Japanese companies play such an important role in the automobile industry in the United States, I think this day has got to come. I don't think it will hurt the sport. All race fans don't drive Fords and Chevrolets and Pontiacs anymore!"