CHARLOTTE, N.C. — Chase Elliott entered Phoenix Raceway's media center with a well-deserved beer in his hand. He took a swig after sitting down on stage, then placed the can at his feet before spending an hour on the evening of his first NASCAR Cup championship answering questions about his racing career and the feeling of winning and shouldering the pressure of being Bill Elliott's son.
He looked relaxed and jubilant and reflective. There was little I could relate to in his answers or in his swagger in that moment, stressing about the stories I still had to file, until Elliott took a question: "What does it mean to get this win in this very unusual year?"
"Certainly a strange year and a different outlook," Elliott said. "I haven't really thought a ton about how things are different because I don't know it any other way, winning a championship."
I smiled, knowing exactly what he meant. I have no experience winning a NASCAR championship, but I know what it's like to do something for the first time in 2020 at the age of 24.
I've been asked similar questions since March about what it's like to cover NASCAR, a new sport for me, during the COVID-19 year. I've been interviewed about it four times, including on NPR, and at almost every turn I've been reminded by longtime industry members, "This is not normal."
I wish I had something more insightful to offer, but I usually shrug and mimic what Elliott said: "I don't know it any other way." What option do you have besides rolling with the pandemic-sized punches and doing your job?
No infield access? OK. Source building via Zoom? Sure. New city? Protest coverage? Breaking news every other day? Let's go.
Don't get me wrong, this year was hard. It was really hard. I often felt stupid and frustrated for not knowing things, for not breaking stories or for asking a question that was obvious to everyone else while I was still learning. I spent the spring, like many, worried about job security and my family and when I would next see my friends in person or hangout somewhere besides my couch.
But I've lived through some personally tough times before. I've experienced the most depressing year of my life and it wasn't this one, so maybe I was well-equipped for the obvious 2020 lesson that plans change. You roll with the punches.
I watched NASCAR do the same this year, adopting virtual racing, maneuvering its schedule to run a full season and requiring masks at races to protect people from a deadly virus. I watched the sport come together and ultimately stand up for what's right, like banning the Confederate flag, a symbol that made Black fans feel unsafe or unwelcome at the track. The industry supported Bubba Wallace when he was believed to be the target of a hate crime, and continued to support him after the FBI determined he was not the target of a hate crime. He was the inheritor of a confusing situation, which made him the target of more hateful remarks, including by President Donald Trump.
"I would suggest this is the single most difficult year that we've faced as a sport," NASCAR president Steve Phelps said last weekend.
I don't doubt that.
I was there in Daytona Beach when Ryan Newman's Ford Mustang crashed, flipped and flew outside of Turn 4. I was in my home when I heard the racial slur that led to the fall of Kyle Larson in the spring. And I was at Phoenix last Sunday when Jimmie Johnson, the seven-time champion, took his final laps before passing the torch to Elliott.
This year has been a lot.
"I believe we're stronger as a sport today than we were pre-COVID," Phelps said.
I don't doubt that either.
Newman's wreck led to NASCAR implementing safety changes. Wallace's exposure and support of Black Lives Matter led to NBA legend Michael Jordan entering the sport as a team owner. Larson's fall led to him attempting to atone for his use of the N-word, learning about its ugly history and returning to a better team.
NASCAR finished the season down 2% in average Cup viewership from last year, according to Sports Business Journal, including a Daytona 500 postponed for rain and 12 other Cup races impacted by weather this season, on top of a schedule recalibrated by a global pandemic. Interpret the ratings and viewership as you may, but also remember that NASCAR's "Most Popular Driver" won this year's championship, which is a promising sign for the sport.
Phelps used the word "relevant" to describe NASCAR 2020.
"It's not that it wasn't relevant before," Phelps said. "But where you are today, you're in a significantly different place."
Maybe it means something that my female friends in their mid-20s from liberal arts colleges messaged me this season to ask about NASCAR, their interest piqued by Jordan. I hope I'm part of a newfound relevance. I hope I'm part of making NASCAR, and sports in general, available to a wider audience.
I consider it a privilege to cover the stars of this sport daily, but my favorite articles this season have been about the individuals on the peripherals and their stories that go beyond NASCAR that touch on topics such as public health, mental health and social justice.
I believe adversity makes you stronger, and I think creativity and diversity help, too.
I received many less-than-friendly emails this year, usually responding to my stories about social issues or pandemic protocols some view as political. I'll probably receive more after this one publishes. But I received many more messages this season thanking me for the coverage and offering additional support from readers, industry members and other reporters, which taught me that I belong here.
NASCAR still has a lot of work ahead of it; this pandemic is not over. Viewership was down from last year, and there's hardly a woman or person of color racing in any of NASCAR's top series.
I'll continue learning and writing and holding the sport accountable, but for now, NASCAR cleared its 2020 season and I'll cheer to that.
