One of the ways that NASCAR likes to sell itself is by announcing crews reminding us all that these are world-class drivers who are navigating the tracks. The refrain is a frequent one and establishes the notion that the on-track product is top-notch.
This is not to argue that most of the drivers racing are not talented in ways beyond normal Camry drivers — though it would be easy to start taking aim at some of the pay drivers — but to instead to query about the entire idea itself.
This will make sense at some point. Follow along.
The FOX company now boasts to having IndyCar as one of its television properties in 2025, and they have been doing their best to sell it. As they should. But IndyCar also has the best drivers in the world, as we’re told.
Now, one might think the point of this piece is to argue about which drivers are better and yadda yadda, but that is silly stuff and best left to fools looking for easy podcast material. (Remember to like, follow, and subscribe). No, the focus here is on something that drivers of both series contend with, but seemingly in much different ways. The focus here is on caution flags.
For starters, it is crucial to recognize that IndyCar has gone through a wild swing of races with minimal cautions.
In fact, it appears to be an anomaly. The season started with a caution on lap 1 of the St. Petersburg Grand Prix, one that lasted until lap 6. It looked like the beginning of a caution-infused event. The kind that inspires hate-watching. But then a funny thing happened.
IndyCar shoved the yellow flags on a shelf and forgot about them.
The series rolled through the rest of St. Petersburg, the GP at Thermal Club, the Long Beach GP and the Alabama GP before finally waving yellow flags at the Indianapolis GP this past weekend, about 15 laps from the race’s conclusion. The reaction from the commentating crew says volumes about the rarity of going nearly five full races without yellows.
In NASCAR, we’ve become accustomed to the typical intrinsic mandatory race yellows for the ends of the first two stages. Before discussing stage yellows, let’s check the last five tracks on the Cup schedule with the number of cautions and for how many laps.
Darlington: 8, 45 laps
Bristol: 3, 40 laps
Talladega: 4, 22 laps
Texas: 12, 73 laps
Kansas: 7, 37 laps
While track distances vary, if you add up the number of laps driven under caution, you seemingly have a full Cup race’s worth. That is a brutal way to contemplate the sport. The fact that Bristol stands as an outlier, having only three cautions, is also cause for scrutiny, as the track is supposed to support the whole beatin’-‘n’-bangin’, “boys have at it” ideology.
Looking at the numbers again reminds us that nearly one-third of the race at Texas took place under yellow flags, which is bizarre if not disconcerting. From a monetary standpoint, watching a slow-motion parade is not what people are paying to see. But the notion that the sport needs to have two built-in cautions per race finally needs a critical eye.
Caution flag periods in Cup racing have been discussed in detail for a long time now.
Some fans assert that NASCAR leadership hits yellow in order to manipulate the race for certain drivers. Others have pushed the notion that some yellows are meant to liven up what may be a boring processional, especially when everyone gets spaced out at Michigan International Speedway or Pocono Raceway and the leader has put half the field a lap down. While fun to argue, these concepts disintegrate under scrutinization.
But what people are really saying is that, in some way, the race needed cautions.
The sport obliged by adding stages.
But it’s time to ditch waving the yellow when a stage ends. Timing and scoring should be advanced enough to mark the top 10 drivers at the end of a stage period and distribute points accordingly. If the eagle eyes of the pit road camera system can hit on a crew member having their pinky toe over the wall too soon, then this change seems facile.
Stage yellows are robbing people of racing, or perhaps better racing, because automatic cautions mean that a respite is coming and that teams can play at being short-sighted. Ditching the obligatory cautions forces teams into longitudinal strategy sessions and keeps the race flowing.
We know the networks need their advertising dollars, and stage cautions bring a natural pause for commercial breaks, but they’ve become overdone at this point. If Bristol had only three cautions, and we know two were for stage breaks, how is it that those three cautions removed 40 laps of racing?
On the flip side, removing two cautions from Texas would have brought the number down to a scant 10 for the race. How could everyone live with the ennui of an event having just 10? That announcers love to say that ‘cautions breed cautions’, like they’re ever hopeful and that cautions are magical, says something about the mentality of the sport.
Maybe it’s time to get rid of a couple and see what these world’s greatest drivers do without a manufactured timeout.
As a writer and editor, Ava anchors the Formula 1 coverage for the site, while working through many of its biggest columns. Ava earned a Masters in Sports Studies at UGA and a PhD in American Studies from UH-Mānoa. Her dissertation Chased Women, NASCAR Dads, and Southern Inhospitality: How NASCAR Exports The South is in the process of becoming a book.