Racer: Brave New World

The juxtaposition and irony are as rich as the black soil upon which he stands. Here we find Juan Pablo Montoya, winner of millions in Formula One prize money, five months removed from the streets of Monte Carlo, standing in what once was a cornfield in Iowa, signing autographs on a windy, 50-degree day. And, perhaps even more rich, he's thoroughly enjoying himself.

That's not where the story of Montoya's transformation begins, just where it stands presently. For those living in a cave, Montoya is in the process of a professional U-turn, taking his credentials from racing's global pinnacle to its more regional cousin, NASCAR.

He might not be the first or the only open-wheel driver to attempt the seemingly backward move to stock cars - Sam Hornish Jr. is in the on-deck circle, Jacques Villeneuve reportedly is considering it, Paul Tracy has flirted with it, A.J. Allmendinger is going to do it, and Tony Stewart and Robby Gordon are already there - but Montoya, widely regarded as one of the world's best racing talents, is the highest-profile driver of the current era to try.

So he stands in rural Jasper County at brand-new Iowa Speedway, laughing and joking with a group of South American race fans who face a Midwestern bluster with little more than shivering bodies and chattering teeth to fend off the cold. Montoya wraps himself in the Colombian flag they had been waving, a playful gag about the uncomfortable weather, then prepares for his first short-track assignment.

Montoya and crew chief Brad Parrott © LAT

It's not anything like his best F1 moment: beating Kimi Raikkonen and Michael Schumacher to the finish line in the Monaco Grand Prix in 2003. He leads briefly before making a glaring mistake, snagging fenders with Rusty Wallace's 19-year-old son, Steve.

The box score says Montoya started third, led 14 laps and finished down in 24th, but reality tells another story. He's in his first days of the most difficult course at NASCAR U.: introduction to spotters, vision, feel and periphery.

As the Iowa effort ends with a dented car and bruised ego, Montoya accepts his mistake and his limitations. "I wasn't 100 percent sure he was there," Montoya says, explaining the confusing conversation with his spotter. "I thought he wasn't there, to be honest. I just went up the racetrack like normal, and we touched."

So, the questions commence. Does a form of motorsport that has historically made talented single-seat racers look bad hold a place for one of the world's best natural single-seat talents? Will F1 and Indy ever translate to NASCAR? (Or, better yet, should they?) Will Colombia play in Columbia, S.C.? Is NASCAR going global? Or is it abandoning its roots? Does either side stand to gain? Or lose? Or is this just a simple story of a restless driver who wants to learn something different?

If the latter is the truth, Montoya has found the right place. "Guys who have been here for many, many years are still learning," team owner Chip Ganassi said after Montoya's ARCA debut in October at Talladega, where he finished third.

"That's the trick about NASCAR racing, to be a student of it. That's why I'm so excited about Juan. He wants to be here; he's a student of it. He was watching the TV the other day, pulling things off the television that the casual fan doesn't see. He's here for the racing. A lot of guys here race to live, he lives to race."

Maybe that's why it happened. Montoya was in Montreal for the Canadian Grand Prix in June when he called Ganassi, with whom he won the Indianapolis 500 in 2000 and CART championship in 1999. "I just called Chip to say 'hi,' and we ended up talking about NASCAR," Montoya says.

Pablo and Juan Pablo Montoya © LAT

"He came down to Miami after [the USGP] and we sat down and talked about it. He was very straightforward and simple. I had a lot of fun when I raced with him earlier. We had a lot of fights, too, but our hearts were always in the right place. We were there to win. The whole thing started as a joke. When he first started talking to me about it, I thought he was joking, but it got more and more serious."

Eventually, it began to make sense. Montoya and his wife, Connie, and their two children live in Miami. The trip to Iowa - like almost every date on the NASCAR schedule - is closer to Miami than all but a handful of F1 races.

The coin isn't bad, either. Top Cup drivers score well into eight figures (according to Forbes, Jeff Gordon grossed more than $19 million in 2004). Certainly not comparable to Schumacher's $80m, but not a bad midrange F1 salary.

But the most prominent reason for Montoya's unlikely choice to go tin-top was his dissatisfaction with F1. In much the way American stock-car fans reject Formula One as a high-speed parade, so too did Montoya grow weary of the grind.

"The cars are a lot of fun to drive, but the racing isn't great," he explains. "You hardly ever pass any cars. From that point, it wasn't the most exciting racing. I did love it. But I wanted to try this. They always said that if I came here, I would enjoy it. And, so far, I have."

Whether NASCAR's following, not known for embracing diversity or other forms of motorsports, will embrace Montoya remains to be seen. NASCAR's leaders, keen to cash in on the sport's growing Hispanic audience, love the plan.

"Juan Pablo Montoya's entry into NASCAR is historic," declared NASCAR president Mike Helton. "It encompasses all the things that are important to NASCAR, the things that we've worked very hard to establish.

"Juan Pablo is someone who touches not only the Hispanic fan base, but also is a driver with an international following. NASCAR has had success with drivers from other racing backgrounds who have come and done well, but to have Juan Pablo say, 'I want to compete here,' is historic."

Montoya's unofficial introduction to NASCAR came by way of publicity stunt. In 2003, he swapped cars with Jeff Gordon at Indianapolis Motor Speedway, both zipping through the speedway's road course in unfamiliar cars.

Montoya makes his first NASCAR pitstop © LAT

While Gordon gushed about his ride in Montoya's car, Juan Pablo rolled his eyes and joked about the lack of speed and handling of Gordon's car. Still, Montoya felt at ease in the stock car, and, without that well-publicized exploit, might never have considered Ganassi's offer.

"I wasn't thinking about (moving to NASCAR) then," Montoya says. "I was fighting for the World Championship at the time, and things were looking good. I drove the car and felt really comfortable in it. That's one of the reasons I made the decision. I got in it, I was straight, and I was comfortable. It was good."

The prevailing question as Montoya practices for a Cup debut is as straightforward. Why risk it? Few open-wheelers - Tony Stewart being the most obvious - have attained success in NASCAR. The list of disappointments is long and impressive. Tracy. Robby Gordon. John Andretti. Scott Pruett. Max Papis. Jimmy Vasser. All were solid, if not great, open-wheel drivers. All have struggled, to varying degrees and for varying reasons, in stock cars.

"Some people say it's an impossible move, but this is what I want to do," Montoya explains. "At the beginning, my mind wasn't clear about what I wanted to do. When I talked to Chip more about it, my heart said that's what I wanted to do. It was clear and straight."

Back in Iowa, nothing is clear and straight, especially the fenders of Montoya's black No. 4 Dodge Charger. Afterward, the reason behind Montoya's problem with Wallace emerges.

The word "outside," in spotter parlance, means, "Careful, there's another car on the outside of yours." In Montoya's world, it means, "Careful, he might try to pass you on the outside." Wallace's car was already there, and Montoya didn't know it. "It's like, 'Oh, God, I just wrecked Juan Montoya, Formula One star, and ruined my day,'" Wallace said. "It's not that good of a feeling, that's for sure."

Not that everyone noticed. Before the race, as Montoya signed his name on hats and T-shirts and programs, a fan stood behind the group, looked at the blank transporter behind Montoya, and asked a fellow fan, "Who is this guy?"

"Juan Pablo Montoya," the fan responded.

Long pause. Stifled yawn.

"Never heard of him."

Welcome to NASCAR, sir.