Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Rusty will confess

Tony Stewart was FUCKING ROBBED at the Daytona 500!!!

Time to confess what a few friends of mine already know.

I dig Nascar. There I did it. I'm not a redneck, Larry The Cable Guy is not my personal savior, I have all my teeth. Stop looking all shocked.

How'd I get into it. My dad digs it, and anytime I'd drop by his place on a Sunday, he'd be all into whatever race was happening. I'd give in and watch it too, slowly realizing that I really dug on watching the racing.

Ok, now the whys of me getting into the racing. First off, the endurance factor of the whole thing. Driving over 180 miles and hour for a few hours, only brakes you get are the handful of seconds in the pits or when the caution flag is out. Any other sport, football, baseball, basketball, players get brakes, halftimes, taken out of the game. Racing? Can't really change drivers, it's balls to the wall, inches away from another car going just as fast and a minor slip? Your car is so much scrap all over the track. Intense.

Another reason why I dig the racing. The racers actually have personalities. You see another athlete on TV or listen to them on the radio and you could swear that they were dropped off at the stadium or arena by a short bus. Vacant look on the face, a little slack jawed. They look like they took one too many hits to the head (except when they go on radio shows and ramble about how they hate gays or something like that). I know not all are like that, but damn near all of em are.

And watching it on TV is a trip. The shots from the camera beside the track when the cars go by. It sounds like a horde of pissed wasps shooting by. I can only imagine what that sounds like there. And listening to the color commentator Waltrip during a race. What the hell, do they make that guy do a few lines of coke and slam a case of Red Bull before the race? When the cars are under a yellow flag and going slow, he's in the booth flipping out and talking faster than that guy from the old school Fed Ex ads. You can only imagine what he's like when the race is going full steam.

There you have it. I'm not gonna be going to a Toby Keith show anytime soon, I don't have a dip of Skoal under my lip right now, and I can't line dance, but I dig on the Nascar. Add that to the other oddball stuff I dig.


emawkc said...

I was at the Daytona 500 as part of my job -- in the pits, in the infield. I've never been into NASCAR, I'm definitely not as into it as you, but damned if I'm not becoming a little bit curious on how certain drivers are doing.

It turns out there's a driver from Kansas, Clint Bowyer, who did pretty well in California.

Xavier Onassis said...

Oh this will piss you off and make you jealous.

I'm not into NASCAR at all. Doesn't appeal to me in the least. Woman I knew got free tickets to a race at the Kansas Speedway so I figured WTF. Maybe it's more exciting in person. Plus, maybe I'll get laid.

The long walk from the parking spot, the bulging cheeks (from tobacco with the guys and cellulite from their wives), the unnecessarily complicated sunglasses, the tatoos, the loud noise and hot sun all just to watch people driving fast around an oval (yes, I know the difference between a circle and an oval) just reinforced the notion that this "sport" ain't for me.

I'm not the target demographic of NASCAR anymore than I am for hip hop.


The company that my gf works for met all of it's 2006 goals and they are taking all of their employees and their significant others (that would be me) on an all expense paid trip to Orlando and have spent a lot of $ for lots of fun things to do.

On one of the days when she is in a company meeting, I had my choice of the following activites:


Having a massage (no "happy finish"...I asked) and a facial (recieving, not giving...I asked).

Or, going to the Dale Earnhardt Experience and hurdling around the track at 150+ mph.

So, even though I don't really care for NASCAR, in 3 weeks I will BE IN a NASCAR, speeding around the track because I'm too cheap to shop and to straight to get a facial.