Trackhouse: Building a Brand That Doesn’t Need a Last Name

Author

Matt Watson

I’ve worked in sports marketing my entire career—from branding Lance Armstrong to campaigns with Marion Jones, the 2004 Olympics, Oregon State University, pro teams, and a long roster of product launches. I’ve stood in war rooms and stadium tunnels, helped rewrite legacy brands, and chased bold ideas from Texas to Tokyo. But nothing really prepared me for this.

Because rarely do you get the chance to help build not just a brand, but a whole new sports team—on a global stage, in one of the most tribal, traditional, and tightly guarded sports in America: NASCAR.

When Justin Marks called us, he didn’t want a legacy logo. He didn’t want his name on the car. He didn’t even want to talk about what made him great. Instead, he said something you don’t hear from most founders, let alone a former professional driver:

“This shouldn’t be about me.”

It should be bigger. More relevant. More human. A platform for something new.

And that’s where Trackhouse began.

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“This shouldn’t be about me.” – Justin Marks

“I wanted to change the face of NASCAR. So, I came to Watson.” – Justin Marks, Founder of Trackhouse

Starting Line: An Idea Without Ego

He wanted to build a brand that was inclusive, irreverent, and ready to break rules—not just in design, but in how the world even thinks about racing teams.

The working brief was refreshingly bold:

This isn’t a team with a sponsor.
This is a brand that creates sponsors.
This isn’t just for fans of racing.
This is for people who haven’t even considered NASCAR yet.

The risk? We could alienate purists. The opportunity? We could build something NASCAR hadn’t seen in decades: a lifestyle brand born from the racetrack, not just bound to it.

Naming the Movement: Why It’s Called Trackhouse

Most people expected Justin to name the team after himself. That’s the legacy move. “Marks Racing” or “JM Motorsports.” But that was never going to fly. Instead, we pushed toward something that could grow, expand, and include. The name had to feel architectural. Gritty, but universal. Something that could live on a hat, on a hoodie, on a headline.

Trackhouse was born from that tension—a name that grounded the team in place but left room for people.

Not just a racing team. A house for the culture of the track. Where musicians, artists, athletes, and fans could show up and see themselves. We designed the name to travel—to stages, to podcasts, to press. And it worked.

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Building the Visual System: Crafted, Raw, and Ready to Move

With a name like Trackhouse, the visual language had to be built with the same sense of bold humility. We started with three pillars:

Crafted. Raw. Authentic.

Those weren’t buzzwords—they were directional cues for every asset we built.

The primary logo system features a set of abstract slashes, evoking speed, torque, and trajectory—like tire marks, tally marks, and architectural beams all in one.
The color palette is rooted in contrasts: a rebellious electric blue set against grounded matte black, athletic white, and industrial neutrals.
Typography is clean and modern, with just enough swagger to feel like it belongs in both the garage and the gallery.

Trackhouse wasn’t going to shout. It was going to cut through.

We gave it a look that didn’t require NASCAR literacy to understand. You didn’t have to know racing history to wear the gear. It just looked good. Felt right. Invited people in.

The mark quickly evolved beyond signage—it became a badge. A signal.

Our Language Wasn’t Corporate. It Was Cultural.

On the voice and tone front, we made a conscious decision: this would not sound like a traditional sports team. No empty clichés. No “leave it all on the track” nonsense.

We wrote a new playbook.

“NASCAR, hell yeah.”
“We’re off to Stagecoach.”
“Come on in.”

Our language was about inclusion, not intimidation. We designed for the fan who just discovered racing through Spotify, TikTok, or a Netflix docuseries. The new fanbase. Younger. Broader. More diverse.

The official tagline?

Be Bold. Be Simple. Be Thoughtful.

It wasn’t marketing fluff. It was a philosophy we applied across naming, social, merch, signage, team communications, and even sponsorship decks .

From Concept to Culture: The Brand Hits the Track

Trackhouse launched with a vision and a vibe—and then it raced.

From the first liveries on the No. 99 car to the architecture of the team’s new HQ, the brand was everywhere. Every touchpoint, from the team uniforms to the press kits, carried the same graphic discipline and story-forward spirit .

And the culture followed.

Music industry partnerships? Check.
Merch lines that sold out? Check.
Mentions on ESPN, Sports Illustrated, and social? Check, check, check.

Trackhouse was now a brand that people outside the sport wanted to touch. Collaborate with. Wear.

Even Sports Business Journal and major outlets took note—calling it “the most forward-thinking brand in NASCAR.”

And to be clear: this wasn’t just about looking different. It was about being different. Justin Marks’ team won on the track too. Wins came fast. The fanbase got louder. And our mark—those five tallies—kept stacking up.

The Strategy Behind the Scenes

From the start, we treated this like a venture-backed startup, not a legacy motorsports brand.

We built brand architecture with room to grow. Sub-brands, events, content arms—it was all considered early .
We created pitch decks and naming frameworks for future product launches, investor conversations, and licensing deals.
We consulted on cultural partnerships, event activations, and even the brand’s interior environment design.

This wasn’t branding for the sake of branding. It was identity infrastructure, ready to scale.

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Reflections: What Trackhouse Taught Me

After decades in sports marketing, I thought I’d seen it all. But Trackhouse reminded me that the most powerful brands aren’t born from ego. They’re built from clarity, conviction, and a willingness to take risks.

This project asked me to bring everything I’d ever done—from Olympic stages to campus stadiums—but to leave behind any playbook. It asked us to build something that felt inevitable, even though no one else had done it yet.

Trackhouse isn’t just a racing team. It’s a blueprint for what happens when creativity meets courage—on a national stage, with no excuses.

Takeaways for Anyone Building a Sports Brand

Start with what you stand for, not what you sell. Trackhouse didn’t start with cars. It started with culture.
Design for the outsider. Your most valuable audience may not know your legacy—but they’ll feel your vibe.
Don’t name it after yourself. Build something people can join, not just admire.
Voice matters. Branding is more than visuals. Trackhouse’s tone set the stage for the movement.
Every touchpoint matters. From uniforms to architecture, we built a brand system that scaled across platforms and industries.

Ending: Back to the Garage

Sometimes, the most rewarding projects aren’t the biggest in budget or the most obvious in scope. Sometimes they’re the ones that start as an idea scribbled on a note, passed from one founder to one strategist with nothing but belief.

Trackhouse was that project. From the first call to the first checkered flag, it’s been an honor to be part of something that’s rewriting the rules.

And as a guy who’s been in this world a long time—I’ll say this without hesitation: I’d do it all over again.

See you at the next race.

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