NASCAR needs more than Jimmie

Brian France hinted Tuesday that Jimmie Johnson doesn't provide the spark that the Cup Series is looking for. Getty Images Tom Bowles's Mailbag Submit a comment or question for Tom. Name: Email: Hometown: Question: SEND

It's rare for a "commissioner" of a major sport to criticize its champion -- especially one with the type of squeaky clean image that Jimmie Johnson's built through the years. So, it was more than a little jolting when Brian France spit out Tuesday what many in the know have been afraid to say: Johnson's success isn't exactly the spark the Cup Series has been looking for.

"He's a California guy, a very nice guy, a cool customer and obviously very talented," France said at the Reuters Media Summit Tuesday. "But he's not going to do a lot of things that are going to wow you or stun you or surprise you in the ways that sometimes other athletes make their mark. We need to do more with our athletes to bring out their emotions."

In other words, Johnson is nice ... but nice doesn't put fans in the stands. The remarks hit home on the eve of the sport's awards ceremony in New York City. Many wondered how the sport's leader could distance himself from his most successful driver, just weeks removed from a record-setting season?

But in leading a sport struggling to redefine itself, France was bold in speaking the truth. While Johnson's quest for a third straight title was the type of awe-inspiring record that should have had fans flocking to their seats, TV ratings declined a third straight year in 2008 during NASCAR's 10-race playoff. The numbers have actually dipped lower than the pre-Chase era of 2003, in which Matt Kenseth coasted to the series title to the point he clinched it one week before Homestead in November.

You can't blame the decline all on Johnson's championship success. NASCAR has tripped on plenty of hurdles over the past few seasons, including the ill-handling Car of Tomorrow, problematic Goodyear Tires that have ruined races like the Brickyard 400, and the inability for the postseason format to result in closer championship finishes. (For the record, France reiterated he's pleased with the Chase and has no plans to change it anytime soon.)

But while Johnson's success is not the sport's biggest problem, you can't ignore Johnson's effect on how NASCAR is perceived. To longtime fans, Johnson is the antithesis of what seven-time champions Dale Earnhardt and Richard Petty represented. Anyone who knew Earnhardt, who's still wildly popular seven years after his death, would tell you that a banquet in New York City is the last place the Intimidator would want to be. While Johnson and his wife, Chandra, keep in an apartment in the Chelsea section of Manhattan, Earnhardt was a country boy at heart, comfortable hunting or tending to his land in North Carolina. Johnson's image is out of the Jeff Gordon mold: corporate, white collar and laid back. For a sport still built on its blue collar roots, that's not exactly easily relatable.

The differences filter down to on-track persona, as well. Johnson relies heavily on crew chief Chad Knaus to make strategy calls to help him win races. For Cale Yarborough, the only other three-time consecutive champion in NASCAR history, the strategy was to get out of his way and push it to the front every second of every lap. Driving for the most politically correct owner in the business, Johnson follows the Hendrick philosophy of not getting aggressive for the sake of being aggressive. He drives within his means and refuses to race dirty under any circumstances. Earnhardt? He'd spin a guy on the last lap and dare NASCAR to take the win away.

To Johnson's credit, it's not that he shies away from these differences. In an SI cover story with Lars Anderson last month, the champ admitted his reluctance to open up is partially due to the pressures provided by multi-million dollar sponsors who expect positive exposure 52 weeks a year. In Yarborough or even Earnhardt's era, $2 million was a lot to spend on primary sponsorship. Now, deals for $20-$25 million are commonplace, taking a bigger chunk out of a company's advertising budget -- and leading to far greater scrutiny of their NASCAR program.

But while Johnson's image supposedly makes him a sponsor's dream, it also doesn't incite the type of excitement that keeps fans coming back every week. In my view, it's almost short-sighted from a sponsor's perspective that its driver be forced into political correctness. Which commercial are you more likely to remember: the 30-second ad in which all the information comes at you straight forward without any bells or whistles, or the crazy commercial with a sense of humor that leaves you laughing or wondering, 'What the heck was that?'"

Chances are, it's the latter; but in public life, Johnson represents the former. And there's nothing wrong with that, just as there was nothing wrong with the San Antonio Spurs as NBA champions or the Philadelphia Phillies winning the World Series. Nice people, great stories, good sportsmanship.

It's just that Brian France knows they all share that ugly similarity: bad TV ratings. And that's where NASCAR's head honcho has a point, whether you like it or not. In a time in which his sport is struggling to maintain viability amidst the economic crisis -- over 500 crewmen have been laid off in the last 2 ½ weeks -- he's looking for someone to turn the tide of national opinion back towards looking at NASCAR with excitement, not boredom.

There's no shame in admitting that after three years, it's clear Jimmie Johnson is not that guy.