I first read this article, Social Science at 190 MPH on NASCAR's Biggest Superspeedways by David Ronfeldt, many years ago. I'm not a NASCAR fan; in fact, I'm not even a sports fan, and this article is one reason why. Not because I think sports are beneath me. This article has helped me understand sports enthusiasts better, and I think I appreciate the point of obsessive attention to the smallest details much more than I did before. (I still think fandom is ridiculous, but that's a separate discussion.)
To paraphrase Ronfeldt's intro, the need for drafting (also called slipstreaming) in NASCAR races provides a social science view into:
- complexity theory (as racers self-organize into chaotic and ordered structures),
- social network analysis (as actions in previous races affect how drivers treat each other throughout the race and especially in draft lines), and
- game theory (the so-called Prisoner's Dilemma, as cooperation and defection play out in the course of a race, a season, and a career)
This article has had a surprising effect on me since I read it around 2001. For context: I grew up as a baseball fan, because (due to asthma) it was the one sport I could play well enough to excel. When I was young I played Little League and one year of Pony League at age 13. I wasn't a box-score-following fan, but I followed the SF Giants -- I could tell you the starting lineup in 1969 -- and later the Oakland A's. I read about Sandy Koufax (fellow lefty) and famous or unusual baseball games.
As I grew older I followed the game with less intensity, but I played in softball leagues until my early 40s, coached my sons in Little League, and attended a couple of pro or minor-league games a year. Now I barely watch one game a year, live or on TV, but to this day I feel there are few things more beautiful than a 6-4-3 double play.
Anyway, the biggest lesson for me from the article was in understanding that the background of the players is vitally important in each event, and it can be a little silly to watch a single competition. It's a bit like watching a single episode of General Hospital (is that still on?): without understanding the characters, their actions make little sense.
So, while I enjoyed watching the mechanics of a single baseball game, without knowing the potential performance of each player -- does he choke in the clutch? Is he their home-run hitter? -- the game for me had none of the thrill it holds for longtime viewers.
So even NASCAR, derided as "cars turning left for 500 miles," has a number of extremely interesting features -- but only if you follow it. A single NASCAR race will likely bore you unless you know that last year, Driver A did a little bump-and-run that cost Driver B the win, so look for sparks today when B drafts A in this race. This "soap opera" is far from incidental to the enjoyment of sport. It's the whole thing.
