Austin Dillon may still get to wake up and stare at the trophy he earned from the Cook Out 400, but that’s about the only positive he gained from the Sunday race.
On Wednesday, NASCAR announced that Dillon’s victory at Richmond Raceway will not count toward his eligibility for the 2024 NASCAR Cup Series playoffs, moving the driver and his No. 3 team from 13th in the playoff standings back down to 31st, nearly 200 points out of a playoff berth.
With Michigan, Daytona and Darlington remaining on the regular-season schedule, Dillon still has three opportunities to earn his playoff spot back. Daytona is easily the most likely place for Dillon come out on top again, but if he can’t find his way back into the postseason, his lament over the ending of the Richmond race will forever loom large.
NASCAR’s decision to make Dillon’s victory not count toward playoff eligibility may be one of the most important ruling the sanctioning body has made since instituting the knockout-style format in 2014.
Drivers have resorted to desperation in regards to the playoffs before — see Ryan Newman’s move on Kyle Larson at Phoenix in 2014, or Kevin Harvick intentionally crashing the field at Talladega in 2015 — but Dillon’s move on Sunday trumped all prior incidents in terms of severity.
Not only did Dillon not attempt to make the corner before spinning Joey Logano in turn three, but he also turned down and hooked Denny Hamlin coming to the line in a desperation move that only the difference between making and missing the playoffs could have spurred.
NASCAR has always flirted with the idea of “boys have at it” in an attempt to both appeal to old-school fans while also loosely defining the lines of what constitutes a penalty for overaggressive moves. Since the beginning of auto racing — and in reality, every competition — competitors have always sought advantages, whether they be fair or unfair.
Dillon intentionally crashing both Logano and Hamlin wasn’t a trivial event equal to Smokey Yunick or Junior Johnson trying to mess with a fuel line. It wasn’t equal in severity to a driver slightly jumping a restart or nudging a competitor up the track.
Dillon didn’t just take the physicality and aggression of NASCAR to the extreme, but abused the unwritten rules and undrawn lines that weren’t there, simply because NASCAR likely didn’t think a driver would ever be in such a desperate situation to warrant hooking a competitor into the wall for a race win.
Of course, NASCAR can’t be deemed an innocent victim: It’s the circuit’s own “win-and-in” elimination style format that forced the hand of Dillon, who sat 32nd in points entering the Sunday race. Along with the chance to compete for the championship, a playoff berth guarantees teams a bonus payout in the neighborhood of $2 million, which is a windfall in a sport that’s more dependent on sponsorship than any other.
If NASCAR had chosen to stay with the original Chase format or never adopted a playoff format, Dillon would have had little incentive to drive as hard as he did on the final lap.
Regardless of the points format at play, however, Dillon, who is in his 11th of full-time Cup Series season, should understand that wrecking competitors in an intentional manner is never a good idea, even in a tense situation. He may wake up to the shine of the trophy every morning, but what good is it if that trophy comes without a playoff berth and at the expense of his team?
Along with Dillon’s spot in the postseason being revoked, Dillon lost 25 points and spotter Brandon Benesch for the next three Cup Series races. Benesch’s suspension was a result of Benesch yelling for Dillon to wreck Hamlin as the two raced out of turn four, and with radio evidence, there was no choice for NASCAR but to take further action.
In this case, NASCAR set the correct precedent. With every one of the Cup Series’ 36 races affecting the playoffs, there can be no room for any moves similar to what Dillon pulled at Richmond. In an era of NASCAR where aggression is at an all-time high and young drivers seem to have little respect for their competitors, the penalty is a rare iron fist in the Bill France-less era of the sport’s leadership.
NASCAR shouldn’t become the stock-car racing equivalent to Formula 1’s officiating body, where any instance of contact results in reprimand, but drawing the line between “boys have at it” and overaggressive driving is a must.
Richard Childress Racing will, of course, appeal Dillon’s penalty before the playoffs begin on Sept. 8, but the organization will be fighting a losing battle.
For today, at least, NASCAR can pat itself on its back.
–Samuel Stubbs, Field Level Media
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