In garage area, a different kind of championship effort

FORT WORTH, Texas—It looked like the Batmobile. The front and rear portions of the usually-familiar blue and silver Chevrolet were covered in plates of generic black sheet metal—prefabricated for just the kind of emergency the No. 48 team faced at Texas Motor Speedway—while thick strips of black tape were used to try and make the ragged edges a little more aerodynamically sound. Looking at the vehicle head-on, it resembled one of those stealth military aircraft that specialize in avoiding radar detection. But there was nothing stealthy about Jimmie Johnson's race car on Sunday night.

The thing was a mess, a smoking, scraped-up hodgepodge of replacement parts that was held together by gumption and 200 mph tape. It was the very embodiment of the worst race Johnson has endured in the Chase in more than three seasons, an event marred by a third-lap tangle with Sam Hornish Jr. that forced him to miss more than 100 laps on the race track and slashed 111 points off his championship lead.

And yet, in the aftermath, Chad Knaus couldn't help but allow himself a sly smile. In a little over an hour, he and his No. 48 team rebuilt a car that appeared totaled after both ends slammed hard into the inside backstretch wall. Johnson may have finished 38th on Sunday, but in a way, his crew chief had won his own personal race.

"Wasn't that awesome? That car was pretty torn up," Knaus said, clearly pleased. "I couldn't be prouder of the effort the guys put into that. They did a really good job. By all rights, any other team would have parked that car. They did a fantastic job."

In the end, it probably won't be the difference between Johnson winning or losing his fourth consecutive championship in NASCAR's premier division; the effort to repair the No. 48 car essentially netted the team five spots, or 15 points. Johnson heads to Phoenix still with a 73-point advantage over Mark Martin, a substantial lead with only two events remaining. If anything, the big winner Sunday night was Homestead-Miami Speedway, which is now virtually assured of deciding the title given that Johnson would need to gain 122 points on Martin at Phoenix to clinch the championship outright, or pick up 89 to seal the crown only by starting the finale in South Florida.

So yes, it's race again, but only to an extent. For the No. 48 team, the real race Sunday was against the clock, as crewmen scurried to repair a vehicle that looked better suited for a salvage yard. The front and rear ends were caved in, most every other part crumpled or broken. After it limped back into the garage area, a dozen or so crewmen descended upon it, immediately ripping off pieces of damaged sheet metal according to instructions Knaus issued over the radio. Mechanics sprinted back and forth to the transporter or the crash cart to retrieve tools or spare parts. Crewmen from other Hendrick Motorsports teams brought over saws or pitched in to help. Johnson never got out of the car, not wanting to give his guys the impression that their day was over.

"I was going to stay in it until he pushed it up on the ramp," Johnson said. "I wanted them to keep working on it, to find a way to get it on the track."

The process that got them there was somewhat astounding for both its speed, and the relative calm in which it unfolded. It was a frantic scene, to be sure, full of men bumping into each other and saw blades cutting and welding torches throwing sparks. Knaus gave orders to replace the quarterpanels, replace the deck lid, replace the drive train, replace the rear wing. There were times when it got heated, times when work was criticized or four-letter-words were dropped, but those were amazingly rare given the situation. Knaus' voice almost always kept an even tone, despite the chaos erupting around him. He sounded less like a crew chief trying to save a race car, and more like a shop teacher putting his apprentices through a final exam.

"I've gotta tell you, guys," he said at one point, "this right-rear is a disaster."

Initially, they thought it was beyond repair. Knaus' first look at the car's mangled front end revealed a sway bar that had been "slammed shut," in Johnson's words, and mountings that appeared so twisted that any attempt at a fix seemed futile. At one point Knaus told Johnson to get out of the car, that it was finished. They reconsidered and somehow got it rolling again, digging up fresh bolts and rivets and internal components, raiding the crash cart for extra pieces left over from last week's race, rebuilding virtually everything except the engine.

Johnson returned to the track after spending an hour and eight minutes in the garage area, a stint that cost him 112 laps. That he was moving at all was something of an accomplishment. For Knaus, it was a satisfying effort.

"These guys do a really good job," he said, referring to his crew. "I've got confidence in them. Jimmie's got confidence in us. When a situation arises, we just attack it. They did awesome."

For Johnson, though, it was cause for second-guessing and, at least initially, seething. The whole thing started coming out of Turn 2, when David Reutimann made just enough contact with Sam Hornish Jr. to send the No. 77 car wiggling up the track. Johnson was right in his path, and the ensuing contact forced the No. 48 to wobble into the outside wall. For an instant, the three-time champ looked like he might have the car saved. Then it took an abrupt right turn down into traffic, where it hit Hornish again, and then pounded the inside concrete wall.

"I need to watch [the replay]. I don't know what happened," Johnson said. "All I know is I got hit by the 77. I don't know what happened. So I guess I could be a big [jerk] for saying that about him right now. I'm just frustrated. All I know is I got clobbered from the side from the 77."

Hornish's take: "I knew that [Johnson] was up there, and wanted to give him room," he said. "It kind of stems from a couple of guys in front of us trying to get to the bottom. I've got the 5 [car of Martin] in front of me and the 48 beside me. I just can't go in there and move the 5 out of the way, and I'm not going to try and move the 48 up. Instead, I get hit from behind. It's just an unfortunate set of circumstances. Obviously, you don't ever want to detract from the championship when you're really not even involved in it."

As crewmen worked to resurrect his wrecked race car, Johnson sat inside, wondering what he might have been able to do differently to avoid the accident. He watched his guys work. Through his windshield, he watched the race on the television built into the No. 48 team's garage tool box, trying to keep track of the whereabouts of Martin and Jeff Gordon, neither of whom were able to make the most of Johnson's misfortune.

"I guess after enough time sitting there, I finally calmed down some and caught my breath and relaxed," he said. "But the first 20, 30 minutes of that were pretty painful."

Being back on the race track, making laps in a battered vehicle that had been pieced back together again, couldn't have been much fun, either. And yet, as bad as Sunday was, it could have been much worse. Martin could have won the race, and Johnson's lead could have been whittled down to as little as 23 points. As it stands now, he heads to Phoenix—a place where he's won three of his last four starts, including two consecutive fall events—needing to average a fourth-place finish over the final two races in order to clinch a historic fourth straight title regardless of what any other driver does.

He's taking nothing for granted. He never has.

"In the back of my mind, I couldn't shut down the possibility of something going wrong," Johnson said. "This is racing. You got to drive the race. We've heard it from other sports—you have to play the game. I guess there is some of that in there. It's really not for me to sit here and say that. I just think it's a good lesson for everybody. We'll learn a lot as a race team from this. I think the media side, as well, you have a much better understanding why Chad and I have been so nervous. Even after winning races, fielding questions, the possibility was out there. It's still out there. There's no telling what's going to happen."

And yet, the confidence the No. 48 team always carries with it was still evident. "Phoenix and Homestead both are great race tracks for us, so I'm looking forward to it," Knaus said when asked about the season's final two weeks. Why wouldn't he? Finishing off a fourth straight championship may prove simple compared to the effort his crew turned in to get one bashed-up race car moving again on Sunday night.

The opinions expressed are soley those of the writer.