Carl Edwards, Ryan Newman and Brad Keselowski have all gone airborne on the curved front straights of tri-oval tracks.
On Tuesday, NASCAR president Mike Helton said he was far more concerned with Brad Keselowski's Dodge taking flight than he was with the boot from Carl Edwards' Ford that sent it sailing.
OK. What makes race cars fly?
1. Cars designed to stick to the pavement going frontwards are often prone to losing touch with it going backwards. NASCAR thought it had this problem solved with roof flaps. Apparently not.
2. While it's true that a wing designed to push down pointed one way will likewise push up headed the other, the same is true, to some extent, with spoilers. Race cars took off and flipped before the wings, too.
3. Here's an aspect seldom considered: the shape of the tracks. Eleven Sprint Cup tracks have curved front straights. One of the reasons stock cars tumble into catch fences (in fairness, rarely) is that they roar down the front straights pointed, at an angle, toward the grandstands. On so-called "true ovals" (a term, by the way, about as silly as "true freshmen" in colleges), the cars come off the turns parallel to the grandstands. Sometimes cars leave the ground on the back straights of these 11 tracks, but it's practically unheard-of for them to tumble to the outside (into the grandstand fencing). There may be an example, but I can't think of it.
So-called "tri-ovals" or "D-shaped" tracks are popular because they afford better sight lines for fans. It does make sitting in those grandstands just a bit more dangerous, though.
What makes NASCAR concerned about its race cars taking flight is the possibility of the unthinkable: a disaster resulting from a car, or parts of it, injuring dozens of spectators. Carnage in the grandstands could shut down the sport.
No drivers have been injured recently. The car is doing its job. The catch fence did its job nearly a year ago at Talladega, though some fans were injured by debris and part of the fence was destroyed while, uh, doing its job. The importance of protecting fans with those fences is more crucial to the future of the sport than anything else.
Here's the worst-case scenario: What if, somehow, two or more cars sailed into the fencing at virtually the same time? Even though it's unlikely, it isn't impossible. And it's scary.
The tracks can't make these fences too strong. They can't study the dynamics of protection too much. They can't take too many precautions.
Helton, at least, sounded like a man who realized this.