Since 1998, the North American sports car racing scene has had a season-ending event which sought, in as small way, to rival te Continent’s—the world’s—most prestigious sports car competition, the Le Mans 24 Hours.
This event, Petit Le Mans (literally “small Le Mans—simple and only slightly pretentious) is a ten-hour or 1000-mile multi-class race, with hugely fast and powerful prototypes and barely modified street cars sharing the track in a test of speed and endurance—just like its French counterpart, but less than half the length.Petit Le Mans ran one year as a stand-alone event, then became the finale for a then-new sports car series, the American Le Mans Series (simple, not too pretentious,) brainchild of wealthy inventor/investor Dr. Don Panoz, who also happened to own the track, Road Atlanta, where the event took place. (Dr. Panoz also holds the lease to Sebring.)
Unlike Le Mans, which is run on a mix of public roads and private sections of track and which shuts down a small portion of France (while attracting perhaps a quarter-million fans) for a few weeks each June, Petit Le Mans (which attracts perhaps half as many fans) has to battle local noise ordinances; it cannot run on Sunday in Bible-Belt Georgia. (In fact, the track’s owner can barely hold off the insistent real-estate developers who want to pay a lot more than the track generates.)
Like its European namesake, Petit Le Mans attracts the best teams from around the world—in fact, most of the teams which contest Le Mans also cross the ocean to do battle in America (an important market for car companies and many other sponsors.) The venerable Sebring 12 Hours and Petit Le Mans are the only truly international sports car races run in North America.
Petit Le Mans, in the few years it has operated, has displaced the once-prestigious Daytona 24 Hours as the second premier North American sports car race, behind Sebring. Daytona has opted to be a purely North American race, featuring slower cars and smaller teams and a lot fewer fans, while Sebring and Petit, both operated by ALMS, have always brought in the best in the sport.
In short, Petit Le Mans almost immediately became as sports-car-racing icon; say “Petit” and aficionados immediately grew reverent. Every fall, fans flocked to Georgia for what was always a fantastic race and a fantastic event—ten hours of excitement, camaraderie, and the sound and fury of the most exotic automobiles on the planet.
And isn’t it always sad to see an icon’s health waning?
In short, Petit Le Mans almost immediately became as sports-car-racing icon; say “Petit” and aficionados immediately grew reverent. Every fall, fans flocked to Georgia for what was always a fantastic race and a fantastic event—ten hours of excitement, camaraderie, and the sound and fury of the most exotic automobiles on the planet.
And isn’t it always sad to see an icon’s health waning?
International Attack
ACO (Automobile Club de l'Ouest,) the French organization which sanctions Le Mans and the European (and the short-lived Asian) Le Mans series, never much cared for or about its North American cousin. ACO made rules to suit itself and to keep its signature race, the 24 Hours, alive and well. If ALMS was able to live off the crumbs, good for ALMS. If not, eh—the 24 Hours was still strong.
In order to better please the factories which pump more than a billion dollars into the sport (a successful Le Mans car like the Peugeot 908 or Audi R18 might cost half-a-billion dollars to develop and build; a season budget is as much as a top Formula One team’s) ACO devised the Intercontinental Le Mans Cup—a short series which hit every important car market, in order to give the factories maximum advertising exposure.
As its opening move, ILMC co-opted Sebring and Petit Le Mans. Now these races would be joint ILMC-ALMS affairs, which meant the big-budget European teams would win the top spots, and the U.S. teams would lose their best chances for media exposure.
Then ACO teamed up with another French organization, the Federation Internationale de l'Automobile (FIA)
(how did the French gain a stranglehold on automobile racing anyway?) which controls just about every single auto-related event in the world—except ACO-sanctioned races. The behemoths bred, forming the World Endurance Cup—the ILMC with even more prestige.
WEC, having the clout of basically all the world’s auto-racing nobility behind it, began making rules which are crippling ALMS.
WEC went further than ILMC. The new series announced that it would likely drop Petit Le Mans in favor of a race in Bahrain, and would totally take over Sebring. These two races were no longer ALMS races or even joint ALMS-ILMC races. Now they were to be pure WEC races. WEC told Dr. Panoz that starting in 2013, cars from his series (ALMS) would not be allowed to run at his tracks (Sebring and Road Atlanta) in his events (the 12 Hours and Petit Le Mans.)
ALMS, already reeling from mismanagement and media problems, was now reduced to a handful of small races known only to fans of the sport. The ALMS’ best chance to attract new fans, its signature events, were being taken over by a foreign series which wouldn’t even share the track.
In order to better please the factories which pump more than a billion dollars into the sport (a successful Le Mans car like the Peugeot 908 or Audi R18 might cost half-a-billion dollars to develop and build; a season budget is as much as a top Formula One team’s) ACO devised the Intercontinental Le Mans Cup—a short series which hit every important car market, in order to give the factories maximum advertising exposure.
As its opening move, ILMC co-opted Sebring and Petit Le Mans. Now these races would be joint ILMC-ALMS affairs, which meant the big-budget European teams would win the top spots, and the U.S. teams would lose their best chances for media exposure.
Then ACO teamed up with another French organization, the Federation Internationale de l'Automobile (FIA)
(how did the French gain a stranglehold on automobile racing anyway?) which controls just about every single auto-related event in the world—except ACO-sanctioned races. The behemoths bred, forming the World Endurance Cup—the ILMC with even more prestige.
WEC, having the clout of basically all the world’s auto-racing nobility behind it, began making rules which are crippling ALMS.
WEC went further than ILMC. The new series announced that it would likely drop Petit Le Mans in favor of a race in Bahrain, and would totally take over Sebring. These two races were no longer ALMS races or even joint ALMS-ILMC races. Now they were to be pure WEC races. WEC told Dr. Panoz that starting in 2013, cars from his series (ALMS) would not be allowed to run at his tracks (Sebring and Road Atlanta) in his events (the 12 Hours and Petit Le Mans.)
ALMS, already reeling from mismanagement and media problems, was now reduced to a handful of small races known only to fans of the sport. The ALMS’ best chance to attract new fans, its signature events, were being taken over by a foreign series which wouldn’t even share the track.
Media Difficulties
Top-tier sports car racing is a very expensive sport. Long the domain of the ridiculously rich and the largest factories, the sport is so technologically advanced now that even the world’s largest auto makers have a hard time justifying the expenditure in purely business terms. And rich amateurs—well, the joke goes, “The way to make a small fortune in racing is to start with a large fortune.”The only way to keep the teams racing is to provide enough media exposure to satisfy sponsors that their contributions are well rewarded as advertising. And here the fracturing of the network and cable TV audiences has really taken a toll.
With hundreds of channels broadcasting to every conceivable niche, reaching a mass audience has become impossible. Most sports-specific cable networks reach 75-125 million viewers, and not all of those viewers are racing fans. Further, some of the sports-specific networks are on a high cable tier—that is, they aren’t in basic Cable, or Sports Pak I or II; viewers have to pay extra to get channels which might only have a few hours of interesting programming a week.
And just about no channel can afford to devote ten or twelve hours to a single event—except for the Olympics. Doing so would be a huge commercial risk; viewers who didn’t like the event would tune out for an entire day. That’s a lot of potential ad revenue lost.
With hundreds of channels broadcasting to every conceivable niche, reaching a mass audience has become impossible. Most sports-specific cable networks reach 75-125 million viewers, and not all of those viewers are racing fans. Further, some of the sports-specific networks are on a high cable tier—that is, they aren’t in basic Cable, or Sports Pak I or II; viewers have to pay extra to get channels which might only have a few hours of interesting programming a week.
And just about no channel can afford to devote ten or twelve hours to a single event—except for the Olympics. Doing so would be a huge commercial risk; viewers who didn’t like the event would tune out for an entire day. That’s a lot of potential ad revenue lost.
ALMS was almost driven off the airwaves by this issue; with most of its races being almost three hours long, with some four-and six-hour events, and the two season bookends, Sebring and Petit, the series asked too much of the networks. Only NASCAR, major league baseball, and the NFL draw the kind of numbers that merit a three-plus-hour investment (included in here is NASCAR’s pet sports car series, Grand Am, which only survives because of NASCAR dollars and clout.)
ALMS moved to an online/cable/network mix, where races are broadcast live online on ESPN3.com, then edited recaps are broadcast a day later either on network TV (ABC) or on cable (ESPN.)
The problem here is that fans want the highest-quality broadcast (streaming video can be shaky) and advertisers want the largest possible market penetration. Taped, edited sporting events offend real fans, and Internet broadcasts only appeal to hardcore fans.
This media deal has many teams complaining (and some leaving,) because the money just isn’t there.
To be fair, the ALMS media package is certainly the way of the future. All minor sports and even the most major are realizing the Internet is the best way to get the product to the most specific audience for the lowest price. Problem is, the future isn’t here yet. Until picture quality and reliability equal broadcast TV, casual fans will be disappointed, and until the sport spends enough on promotion to attract viewers and advertisers to the online broadcast, the ‘Net doesn’t make money.
Next: Mismanagement Issues, Financial Pressure
ALMS moved to an online/cable/network mix, where races are broadcast live online on ESPN3.com, then edited recaps are broadcast a day later either on network TV (ABC) or on cable (ESPN.)
The problem here is that fans want the highest-quality broadcast (streaming video can be shaky) and advertisers want the largest possible market penetration. Taped, edited sporting events offend real fans, and Internet broadcasts only appeal to hardcore fans.
This media deal has many teams complaining (and some leaving,) because the money just isn’t there.
To be fair, the ALMS media package is certainly the way of the future. All minor sports and even the most major are realizing the Internet is the best way to get the product to the most specific audience for the lowest price. Problem is, the future isn’t here yet. Until picture quality and reliability equal broadcast TV, casual fans will be disappointed, and until the sport spends enough on promotion to attract viewers and advertisers to the online broadcast, the ‘Net doesn’t make money.
Next: Mismanagement Issues, Financial Pressure
Mismanagement Issues, Financial Pressure
The American Le Mans Series filled a void left by the collapse of other sports car series in North America—sports car racing has long been a boom-and-bust proposition, as the big factories pump in tons of money until one dominates, and then the losers pull out because they aren’t getting return on investment and the winner pulls out because it has all the advertising materiel it needs.
Further, the sport has been plagued by mismanagement; racers are a competitive lot, and not necessarily good businessmen. Squabbles over rules, waivers, purses, cooperation with international series, have led to the demise of many good series.
So have simple economics: the most famous North American series, the original Can-Am, went out of business because Porsche chased out the other factories, but also because of the fuel shortage and the cost of operating a nearly unlimited racing machine with a gigantic engine—plus the cost of hauling the car and crew around the continent to the various races.
ALMS has faced all of these challenges, and has pretty much muffed every one. The series grew slowly in popularity from the turn of the century until it became the premier series in America. Porsche, Audi, Acura, Chevrolet, Dodge, BMW, Ferrari, Aston Martin all were represented. The racing was first-rate and fans loved it.
By 2007 and 2008, the series was tremendously popular and profitable; with factories spending money and advertising their involvement, there was enough for everyone. Grids were full, sponsors were happy, and the series was broadcast on the premier cable racing network. All seemed well.
Two problems were brewing, though.
Further, the sport has been plagued by mismanagement; racers are a competitive lot, and not necessarily good businessmen. Squabbles over rules, waivers, purses, cooperation with international series, have led to the demise of many good series.
So have simple economics: the most famous North American series, the original Can-Am, went out of business because Porsche chased out the other factories, but also because of the fuel shortage and the cost of operating a nearly unlimited racing machine with a gigantic engine—plus the cost of hauling the car and crew around the continent to the various races.
ALMS has faced all of these challenges, and has pretty much muffed every one. The series grew slowly in popularity from the turn of the century until it became the premier series in America. Porsche, Audi, Acura, Chevrolet, Dodge, BMW, Ferrari, Aston Martin all were represented. The racing was first-rate and fans loved it.
By 2007 and 2008, the series was tremendously popular and profitable; with factories spending money and advertising their involvement, there was enough for everyone. Grids were full, sponsors were happy, and the series was broadcast on the premier cable racing network. All seemed well.
Two problems were brewing, though.
First, the series, sanctioned by the French body ACO, which operates the Le Mans 24, set rules which didn’t necessarily favor the U.S. market. Porsche was able to win a championship from the unbeatable Audi team using a cheaper car, which caused a lot of complaint; many of the GT teams (cars modified from street cars instead of purpose-built racing cars) got too many rules waivers (“We need to be 50 pounds lighter than the competition because our base design is inherently slower; give us a waiver or we will leave.”)
The tension created was not addressed; ALMS management opted to follow the French standards to the detriment of the U.S. series.
Worse still, ALMS didn’t promote itself. When money was rolling in, it went—who knows where? It didn’t go to the teams (“factory” teams we not allowed to win purses, but the money not claimed by the factories didn’t go to the private teams; the series kept it.)
When ALMS was riding high, it didn’t plan for the possibility that one day things might change; it didn’t maximize the great stuff it had to capture more fans, more teams, and more sponsors; it didn’t push to get the name “ALMS” into every household, the way NASCAR did.
So, when the global economy contracted in 2008 … Porsche and Audi pulled out, Aston went to the European series, everyone else cut back, and suddenly there was no money for promotion. After nearly a decade of growth, the series had nothing to show for it and nothing saved for a rainy day.
The tension created was not addressed; ALMS management opted to follow the French standards to the detriment of the U.S. series.
Worse still, ALMS didn’t promote itself. When money was rolling in, it went—who knows where? It didn’t go to the teams (“factory” teams we not allowed to win purses, but the money not claimed by the factories didn’t go to the private teams; the series kept it.)
When ALMS was riding high, it didn’t plan for the possibility that one day things might change; it didn’t maximize the great stuff it had to capture more fans, more teams, and more sponsors; it didn’t push to get the name “ALMS” into every household, the way NASCAR did.
So, when the global economy contracted in 2008 … Porsche and Audi pulled out, Aston went to the European series, everyone else cut back, and suddenly there was no money for promotion. After nearly a decade of growth, the series had nothing to show for it and nothing saved for a rainy day.
No More Petit?
Sebring has been an international motorsports icon since it opened for racing in 1952. That race is safe. The name carries enough clout that it will likely survive whatever political and financial furors upset the rest of racing. The European manufacturers want it as access to the North American market, and the sanctioning bodies want it because of its history and because of its location: the season can start in March in Florida while Europe is too cold for racing.
Further, it is built out of an old airport in an industrial area. Financial pressure to repurpose the land is low.
There will likely always be a 12-hour race at Sebring, so long as people race cars. Sebring seems safe.
Petit Le Mans though, is in a much different position.
With a much shorter history, encroached upon by suburbia, and now stripped of its North American roots or sidelined entirely, the status of Petit is shaky.
Without the prestige of the biggest international teams, can the race survive? Without television coverage, can the race make money for the teams? Will it cost more to race Petit than it pays off in sponsorship exposure? Will the fans still flock to Georgia every fall to see the race, if it is contested by two dozen underfunded teams?
At what point will Dr. Panoz have to say, “Sorry, the race costs too much more to run than it brings in; the real estate developers win.”?
I’d strongly suggest that everyone who has the slightest interest in auto racing consider a road trip next weekend.
The 14th—and possibly last—running of Petit Le Mans will start at 11:30 a.m. on Saturday, October 1 at the Road Atlanta racetrack in Braselton, Ga. Tickets are available through the Road Atlanta website or via phone at 770.967.6143, or 1.800.849.RACE. Tickets will also be available at the gate on race day.
Further, it is built out of an old airport in an industrial area. Financial pressure to repurpose the land is low.
There will likely always be a 12-hour race at Sebring, so long as people race cars. Sebring seems safe.
Petit Le Mans though, is in a much different position.
With a much shorter history, encroached upon by suburbia, and now stripped of its North American roots or sidelined entirely, the status of Petit is shaky.
Without the prestige of the biggest international teams, can the race survive? Without television coverage, can the race make money for the teams? Will it cost more to race Petit than it pays off in sponsorship exposure? Will the fans still flock to Georgia every fall to see the race, if it is contested by two dozen underfunded teams?
At what point will Dr. Panoz have to say, “Sorry, the race costs too much more to run than it brings in; the real estate developers win.”?
I’d strongly suggest that everyone who has the slightest interest in auto racing consider a road trip next weekend.
The 14th—and possibly last—running of Petit Le Mans will start at 11:30 a.m. on Saturday, October 1 at the Road Atlanta racetrack in Braselton, Ga. Tickets are available through the Road Atlanta website or via phone at 770.967.6143, or 1.800.849.RACE. Tickets will also be available at the gate on race day.
