THE STORY OF THE RESTRICTOR PLATE

The New Hampshire saga took on an
unexpected new twist when word leaked out that NASCAR will mandate restrictor
plates at the one-mile oval. Should it occur, it will mark a crossing of the
Rubicon by NASCAR, especially in the wake of restrictor plate tests at Charlotte
and Atlanta in the last ten years.

The use of restrictor plates at the
Winston Cup and BGN level has been the longest and bitterest rules debate in the
sport’s history. To appreciate how we got here it requires looking back over the
last 30 years of NASCAR. The plate idea first came during 1970 testing at
Talladega. The speeds were such that drivers Bobby Allison, Bobby Isaac, and
David Pearson said that serious horsepower reductions were necessary. NASCAR
responded by mandating plates inserted between the carburetor and the intake
manifold to restrict the fuel-air mixture and thus lower horsepower. The first
race to run restrictor plates was the Yankee 400 at Michigan, won by Charlie
Glotzbach in Ray Nichels’ #99 Dow Chemicals Dodge Daytona.

Because there were several types of
engines in the sport, there were several types of restrictor plates – this would
lead to big controversy. The 1971 Daytona 500 kicked off the restrictor plate
era in earnest as well as Winston’s sponsorship of the Grand National series; in
this race the lead changed hands 47 times among 11 drivers, numbers never
approached before. By the Atlanta 500 the differences in engines and plates
began to become an issue; A.J. Foyt won in the Wood Brothers Mercury and noted
that the Wood Brothers changed to a wedge-type engine because the plates choked
off stronger engines too much. When Bobby Allison, driving Holman-Moody’s
Mercurys as well as his own independent Dodge, won five straight races in
May-June Chrysler teams were up in arms because their hemis were choked down too
much, and Nord Krauskopf withdrew Bobby Isaac’s #71 K&K Insurance Dodge. At
begging from Harry Hyde, Krauskopf entered the Firecracker 400, and the K&K
Insurance team along with Petty Enterprises and Cotton Owens had switched to
wedge-head engines and their corresponding larger plate. Mopars finished 1-2-3-4
at Daytona, then Petty won five straight including a monster battle with Bobby
Allison at Atlanta, and the Ford teams began griping – this led Big Bill France
to rifle off a shot of his own: "I guess when everybody’s complaining, the
rules must be all right." Racing-wise, it was easy to see his point – 45
lead changes at the Winston 500, 35 at the Firecracker, 54 at the Talladega 500.

NASCAR finally mandated carburetor sleeves
beginning at the Southern 500, and such sleeves stayed in use throughout 1972.
But by July 1973 the plates were back. At Talladega in August the lead changed
hands a then-record 64 times. And it wasn’t just at the biggest tracks that the
plates were used – controversies over cheating on the plates permeated October
events at Charlotte and Rockingham.

The 1974 Daytona 500 ran restrictor plates
and set a track record for leaders (15) and lead changes (60). At the Atlanta
500, however, NASCAR mandated different carburetors, with the clear intent of
phasing out big block engines and making teams run 358 CID engines. When this
costly conversion was completed, the plates were gone.

But not forgotten – when speeds jumped
seven MPH at Daytona in 1979, NASCAR nearly mandated plates for the
superspeedways and 1.5 mile intermediate supers. As speeds reached 200 and cars
tumbled left and right at Daytona and Talladega, drivers such as Cale Yarborough
and Darrell Waltrip called for slowing the cars down.

The Rubicon was finally crossed in May
1987. When Bobby Allison ripped out 100 feet of fencing at Talladega, 200 MPH
was banished to the scrap heap of stock car history. Smaller carburators were
mandated for the biggest ovals, but 200 was cracked at Talladega in July 1987.
Following some lobbying from Robert Yates, NASCAR mandated the return of
carburator plates for Daytona and Talladega. Complaints began almost immediately
that the plates kept the cars too close, complaints accelerated following
Richard Petty’s tumble in the 1988 Daytona 500 – this even though Petty’s crash
came with the field strung out all over the track.

The primary driver complaints centered on
the huge packs of cars, the lesser throttle response than before, and the
greater intensity of the competition. While such complaints had validity, when
it all sorted out the conditions were not that far removed from big-track racing
in general over the years.

There have been numerous gigantic pileups
at plate races – notably in races at Talladega in 1991, Daytona in 1992,
Talladega in 1994 through 1998, and Daytona on the final lap of the 1997
Firecracker 400. A ten-car melee at the 1998 Winston 500 brought out a tirade
from Mark Martin, who’d been involved and thus eliminated from a chance at the
Winston Cup title, of remarkable anger and petulance. One must remember similar
such melees that have occurred at short tracks – notably an enormous crash this
year in an ASA race at I-70 Speedway involving Michael Kranefuss’ son and many
others.

Granted, the stakes are higher at 190 MPH
than on a short track, but it comes down to several things, and perhaps most
important has been speeds that the track can handle. 190 MPH at Daytona and
Talladega is not what 190 MPH is at Michigan, Atlanta, and other tracks –
Elliott Sadler took a vicious tumble at Michigan in June, a crash nastier than
similar airborne flights by Todd Bodine and Bill Elliott at Talladega. There is
also the injury factor – the mantra has always been, "What if one of these
restrictor plate crashes ends in a fatality?" Yet a causal look at New
Hampshire and Atlanta among others shows the vacuousness of such a mantra.

The speed issue at non-plate tracks became
serious enough that in 1993 NASCAR ran Ken Schrader’s car at Charlotte with a
plate. Rumors that plates would become mandatory at other tracks led to
widespread driver complaints, so NASCAR decided instead to shave spoiler and air
dam off the cars to lessen down force and lessen turn speeds. The result
backfired and was dropped after two races.

The plate issue popped up again when
Atlanta Int’l Raceway was reconfigured and speeds jumped 13 MPH. Robert Yates
recommended plates for Atlanta but NASCAR instead tried shaving spoiler and air
dam again, only this time keeping that rule for the entire 1998 season. Again,
it didn’t work and was belatedly dropped.

Now, as 190 MPH is common at intermediate
supers, and following Adam Petty and Kenny Irwin’s deaths, the use of the plate
at tracks other than the biggest super ovals appears to be imminent. Also likely
in the near-future are aerodynamic changes similar to those coming from the
recent test at Daytona – roof spoilers, wider noses, larger rear spoilers with
wickers.

Such a combination of restrictor plates
and high-drag aerodynamics have been in use with the Featherlite Modifieds at
NHIS for many years, and it has helped bring about racing far better than
NASCAR’s fendered classes have ever seen there – such as 30 official lead
changes in July’s Thatlook.com Modified 100-lapper.

It is worth trying, as basically nothing
else has worked.