By Kenton Lewis
If auto racing were crash proof, guaranteed absolutely no crashes, and no need for accident response crews – only about a hundred people would show up for race day. Let’s face it; the crash is the real deal. Other than the finish, it’s the only thing that makes the sport’s highlights for the day.
Some may claim they watch it for the performance of the engine, driver, and pit crew, but frankly that’s like picking up Playboy for the insightful articles and good writing.
Except for the price of admission and the roar of the engines it is just another redneck beer joint.
What NASCAR Fans Talk About
What is there to talk about after a race? ”They was a gonna around and around and around and around and around and around and around. I got sick and threw-up. There was a crash or two after the first and third ‘and round and around.’ Then suddenly this here feller waves a checker flag, and we all went home drunk.”
I’ve heard people talk about races they’ve been to and they never talk about the race. They always say, “I was sittin’ where I couldn’t see a thing.” “That big crash, the one ya’ll saw on TV. That happened right in front of me, but ya’ll saw it better than I did, but it got it TiVoed.” “Traffic was backed up for miles. It was twelve thirty ‘fore we got out of the parking lot. Had to take a leak in an empty bottle. Ole Clem drank it later by mistake ’cause he was thirsty. Said, ‘Hey them there Germans ain’t so bad drinkin’ their beer warm.'”
The story is the same every Monday morning back to work from ‘Billie Bob.’ “There I was minding my own business and just because this guy don’t like Jimmy Johnson or me pinching his wife, he gets all up in my face and things begin to happen. It’s a good thing he was drunk. Otherwise he’d a killed me. We ended up bein’ friends. I drove him home because I had only drank a half a case and he was startin’ on his second.”
NASCAR Needs The Opera
These are the people who think opera is boring. NASCAR could use opera and I don’t mean the ”Grand Ole Opry.”
If opera were some how integrated with NASCAR the race fans might have some culture other than what is growing between their toes or back home in the fridge.
Perhaps the drivers could wear those Viking helmets with the horns instead of crash helmets. Maybe Wagner’s Flight Flight of the Valkyries might be played by the Philadelphia Philharmonic in the infield during the race. ‘Hey that there’s a great song, but what are the words to it? That Wagner guy must have been inspired by a sale on motor oil at Auto-Zone or the beef jerky at Wal-Mart to be in that big of a hurry.’
Who Are Typical NASCAR Fans
If you want to know something about the typical fan, note the biggest advertisers for NASCAR on TV. Advertisers know who watch the races. It’s sort of like profiling a murder suspect.
In other words, the typical NASCAR fan drives down the road in a pick-up truck (Ford), with a Bud Light between his legs (Anheuser Busch), stops for gas (Shell Oil), grabs a sub sandwich (Subway), before going home picks up a two liter soda for the kids (Pepsi), and all this while talking on a cell phone (Sprint). I almost forgot, he’s sneezing (Claritin) and his insurance is about to expire or already has (Allstate).
He’s puzzled because of trouble at work, at home, and with relationships. He concludes his life is complicated. He needs simple melodies like country music and a simple sport that the only skill needed is to drive fast and keep turning left.
NASCAR Infields – A Redneck Babylon
What is it about being on the infield of a race? It’s like an internment camp. You’re crowded into a small area with all the misfits and dregs of society. You can’t escape without being run over by the Bud Light car.
You see people sitting in lawn chairs under the canopies of their motor homes watching the race on TV. That’s like staying at a motel near Niagara Falls and standing in a shower wearing a rain coat.
It’s like Mardi Gras except it’s not Tuesday. It’s like decadent Rome except no one speaks Latin. It’s like Babylon, but who stole the camels and belly dancers.
It’s fair to say the infield is like a concentration camp – a concentration of idiots.
NASCAR fans are passionate about their favorite drivers. They will fight if anyone disrespects them.
When Dale Earnhardt was killed many fans held extended funerals in their home towns. Bumper stickers, t-shirts, and velvet paintings have his famous number ‘3’ with angel wings or a halo.
During Earnhardt’s life he was called “The Intimidator.” His style of driving was to ‘intimidate’ other drivers with what? – Possible death. And for that he is reverenced to the point of worship? It may not be ‘officially’ a blood sport, but many see it that way.