Ricky Bobby? Anyone?

Last Spring I found myself in the all too familiar position of defending NASCAR to my elitist East Coast friends. Why would anyone sit all afternoon to watch cars go around in a circle, they asked. Finally after much to’ing and fro’ing we settled on them admitting there was some skill involved and me admitting that the races should be shorter. Well my friends, I spent this past weekend in the grandstands of the Talladega Superspeedway watching 250 miles of truck racing and 500 miles of big league, left-turn-only, stock car racing.

And it was awesome. It was loud and fast. You feel the rumble in your chest when the pack passes by and hear the whirr of the air guns when they change tires. It is a full-on assault on all five senses and it is awesome. TV doesn’t do it justice. I’m thinking of getting tickets for the race in Texas this weekend…

There were a couple of funny moments, as you can imagine. Paul Menard crashed after only 5 miles of racing bringing out the first caution flag of the day. Several cars entered the pits and changed tires. A man behind me turned to his racing buddy and said derisively “we have cars that can go a thousand miles on a set of tires and these guys are changing them after 2 laps.” Seriously? Yes. And his buddy nodded in agreement. [Note: if you don’t understand why this is absurd, tickets are on sale for next year’s race. You’ll fit right in.]

The crowd was huge. 143,000 chain smokers all in one place. It was like the Marlboro Man had died - well, died again - and gone to heaven. And nobody seems to give a shit that they’re flicking ashes all over the other 142,999 people’s jackets.

There was this little guy in front of me, Jesse, who was jawing back and forth with his buddy all day about who’s driver was better, Denny Hamlin or Kyle Busch. Hamlin blew an engine on lap 137 and you’d have thought Jesse’s dog died. I mean these folks take their racing seriously. Too seriously. I doubt Denny Hamlin was as broken up about it as Jesse. I don't know how Jesse found the will to live.

Regardless, the racing is awesome and I had a fantastic weekend which I wouldn’t trade for much.

I admit that the fans drive me freakin’ crazy, though. Maybe you've heard this from me before, but it’s not just racing fans that do that. I have come to realize that every time I go someplace there’s someone or something in the crowd that really pisses me off. I’m convinced – as I straighten my newly acquired reading glasses – that this may be the truest sign that I’m getting older.

So I say all that to say this: the next time you’re in a crowd, and think you’re not being a horse’s ass, take a look around because you’re probably pissing somebody off.