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When it comes to the ongoing legal battle between NASCAR and Jeremy Mayfield, let's not get ahead of ourselves. The temporary injunction issued Wednesday by U.S. District Court Judge Graham Mullen, which allowed the beleaguered driver to return to the race track, was just that -- a temporary injunction. It's not a verdict. NASCAR's spotless record in the courtroom remains intact, at least for now. Mayfield's indefinite suspension for failing a drug test may be lifted, but this saga isn't over, not by a long shot.

Jeremy and Shana Mayfield describe what the last two months have been like and say thank you to the fans who have stuck with them.
And yet, we can already get some idea of how this is going to end. Given the suits and countersuits, the allegations and denials, and the harsh words spoken on both sides, it isn't going to be pretty. Even now, it's fairly obvious -- one side is going to eventually prevail, yes, but there won't be any real winners.
No, this shows all the signs of being one of those episodes where both parties suffer. Already we have Mayfield, free to drive again for the time being, yet cash-strapped when it comes to his own team and radioactive when it comes to anyone else because of NASCAR's claims that he tested positive repeatedly for methamphetamines. And already we have NASCAR, seemingly vulnerable in the legal arena for the first time anyone can remember, and struggling to maintain the integrity of a random drug-testing policy that was implemented only this year. Mullen's statement that the "likelihood of a false positive in this case is quite substantial" had to spark aftershocks felt all the way from Charlotte to Daytona Beach.
And we're not even to trial yet. The temporary injunction is simply a holding tactic put in place until other legal actions begin. Mayfield's suit and NASCAR's countersuit are still out there waiting to be resolved, a process that could take months if not years. A settlement, something NASCAR has used to wriggle out of a few other sticky legal situations -- most recently that involving Mauricia Grant, the former Nationwide Series official who claimed to be the victim of sexual and racial harassment -- doesn't appear to be a viable option here. Mayfield wants back on the race track, for good. It's hard to believe NASCAR would strike that kind of deal with a driver it's accused of doing meth.
So now we settle back, and wait for the siege. In the meantime, Mayfield is free to race again, something much easier said than done. In an affidavit filed last week, Mayfield said he's had to lay off employees at his race shop, and sell assets and borrow money from family members to cover his living expenses. He's being sued for $86,000 by Triad Racing Development, an engine and chassis supplier. His legal fees have to be mounting by the minute. On the opening day of practice for Saturday night's Cup event at Daytona International Speedway, several car owners balked at the idea of hiring him because of the baggage that he brings along.
Some victory. Let's be honest, though -- Mayfield was something of a bit player on the NASCAR scene before this saga began. It's been three years since he's been in what could be termed a quality ride, and team owners haven't exactly been beating down his door to hire him. It's not like he's searching for exoneration so he can jump into the No. 24 Chevy. The idea that this episode is damaging Mayfield's career, as Mullen seemed to intimate, is rather ludicrous given that even before his alleged positive drug test, he was owner/driver for a sponsor-strapped shoestring operation that had failed to qualify for six of 11 events. Mayfield's Cup career was effectively over long before this legal battle started. He was just trying to hang onto it.
Of course, he has every right to do that, as well as defend himself against what he feels are attacks on his reputation and his good name. When contested drug tests arise in other sports, players can file grievances through their respective players' associations. Of course, there is no such thing in NASCAR, which means the only recourse is court.
NASCAR isn't likely to emerge from this unblemished, either. Even if the sanctioning body's legal team were to ultimately win what is becoming a protracted legal battle, the folks in Daytona are still going to come across as somewhat vindictive (because of their countersuit) and bumbling (because of the way this random drug-testing policy has been implemented). Hey, no one questions NASCAR's intentions in wanting a zero-tolerance drug policy that bans anything endangering the focus, judgment, or fine motor skills of drivers or crewmen during a race. Most of the garage area even seems all for it. But clearly, the practical application of this policy needs a little fine-tuning -- an actual list of banned substances, perhaps? -- to prevent another situation like we have with Jeremy Mayfield, where in many eyes NASCAR looks like the big, bad sports league persecuting an innocent man.
Mayfield's guilt or innocence will ultimately be for the court to decide. So for now, here we are, at something of a stalemate. The driver is free to drive, but may not be able to afford to bring his own team to the race track, and may not be able to convince anyone else to put him in a car. The sanctioning body has a random drug-testing policy, but one that's being questioned in court and looked upon dubiously by the public. Somehow, when this is all finally over, you wonder if even the winning side is going to feel like it lost.
The opinions expressed are solely those of the writer.