To play the blame game.
It's them. They are not sticking to the manufacturer's guidelines. It's them.
No, it's them. It's them, we tell you, it's them.
Tyres to blame for all, tyres to blame for a fall and tyres on call the next time you wish to blame all.
With controversy swirling around the tracks of Sprint Cup over the quality of the tyres, talk of the race has, at times, become secondary.
Goodyear, the official provider of tyres for Nascar since 1997, say it is the teams who are at fault. PSI of twenty to twenty-two is the recommended level of inflation. Any lower and the tyres become unsafe, rendering the cars a two hundred per mile ticking time bomb.
Accidents galore in California two weeks ago. A sharp focus has come upon a heated issue as tyres pop and opinions drop on the possible causes.
So, a good year for Goodyear on the publicity front it has not been. Unless you uphold the long held tradition of any publicity is good publicity. Just a hunch, but more than likely, they don't.
Goodyear have claimed that there are teams running on tyres as low as twelve psi. In other words, highly unsafe.
The teams deny this and say Goodyear are not providing tyres of the necessary standard. But would those teams admit to running their race cars at a significantly lower psi? Unlikely. Big money, big business, winning means sponsors knocking their doors down. It means attracting drivers of the highest quality.
So let those tyres down to go for maximum grip. After all, every thousandth of a second counts. To win, to land the prestige, that is what it is all about.
But there has to be a balance. Surely there must be some sense applied.
It is tough though. What to do, what to do.
To mould the vagaries of high speed dilemmas, whittling the margins to within an inch of combustible mayhem, and life so precious yet a winner so cherished - a fine line, for sure. Where to stop, a win to garner financial latitude. For more is the high octane bent filled driver to lead the chase towards the gifts assembled aloft the winner's podium. A low pressure zone, the ugliest of storms prevailing with explosive consequences. The time has come for the grim reaper to reap unnecessary rewards with treadless tires flailing and ready to give up the ghost.
But at what stage has the line between safety and recklessness been crossed?
What price is a life worth?
Those teams could take the cash and run away from personal responsibility, or . . . .