Three Strikes...

Lost in the glitter of used-up NASCAR race car parts last weekend at Daytona was the fact that Jimmie Johnson's car failed technical inspection prior to practice for the Budweiser Shootout.

An innocuous part, the C pillar, which connects the roof of the car to the rear quarterpanels, was found to be "out of tolerance" with NASCAR rules. That might just describe NASCAR's mood with crew chief Chad Knaus...out of tolerance.

Think back to 2006, when NASCAR officials found so many things wrong with the 48 car (seven violations) that it suspended Knaus for six races and fined him $25,000. Darian Grubb wound up guiding Johnson to the victory that Sunday, while Knaus watched from somewhere off the property.

The following season, the front grille area around the headlights didn't fit any of NASCAR's templates at Infineon, and Chad was off on another six-week vacation.

Both times, the 48 team rebounded to win the series title, setting in motion the five-year reign at the top of the leaderboard.

OK, two strikes, right? Chad's still in the batter's box, right?

Yes...and no.

Last year, in the second Talladega race, Johnson leaned into the driver's area and told Five-Time that if he won, he needed to back the car into the wall, just to make sure NASCAR officials didn't find something they may or may not have been looking to find.

JJ didn't win that day, so no harm, no foul, right? Well, it would have been, had the above conversation not been broadcast to every fan who happened to be tuned into the NASCAR.COM audio tool that day.

What gets crumpled in the event of a rear-first collision with something solid, like a wall? The rear clip, for one, and all the bodywork that is attached to it. That includes the C pillar.

Foul tip...and the catcher held on. Strike three, grab your bat and take a seat.

This time, I have the feeling that the world is about to fall on Chad, from a great height.

NASCAR has a long memory, especially Mike Helton and Robin Pemberton. They remember every time someone has tried to slip one past on the outside corner, and it's f-o-r-e-v-e-r. Institutional memory is not this good at the FBI, and every time it happens, a little black mark goes in a little black book.

There are many little marks beside the 48's name, and that will produce a fine/suspension package of epic proportions, I'm betting.

Try 12 races, $250,000 for starters. That's my guess, at any rate. Twelve races is one-third of the season, and nearly halfway to the Chase. If it happens, Chad could be looking at a return to the pit box at Dover, on June 3.

It's like your favorite professional football team's coach missing five games in a playoff run, or your ace closer hitting the disabled list in June, when your team has a five-game lead.

It's one thing to hew to the line that, "if you ain't cheatin,' you ain't tryin' hard," but it's another to stick your tongue out at the inspectors as your guys push the car into line.

I've known some great racers who made a living keeping tech inspectors hopping. Gary "Hot Shoe" Balough was one of them. He'd show up in tech with the front tire width three inches outside the limit, and when you'd call him on it, he'd smack his forehead and exclaim, "Dang it, I TOLD them guys to fix that. I'll get it done right away."

Second time through, it would be right.

The other things that got through the first time, though, hadn't been touched.

That's Chad Knaus. Always living on the very edge of whatever gray area he can find.

Personally, I like a little of the sly in a crew chief. If they're not smart enough to catch you, then it really isn't cheating, is it? But there is a limit, and I expect young master Knaus is about to find out what happens when you cross it too many times.