Sunday, April 25, 2010

Race Day

(I posted this originally on April 27, 2008....many of you missed it so here it is again.)


"Gentlemen! Start Your Engines!!!" That was the cry from Talladega Super Speedway here in Alabama today. It was the Aaron's 499.

This post will be most curious to those that know me in real life because I am NOT a NASCAR race fan in any way, shape, or form. However, once again, I felt compelled to post about something that I am not really informed about. So maybe I will know more. You know, like doing a research paper back in high school. Yea that's it.

If you live in the South you know that people have certain stigma's they associate when you tell them that's where you live. For example, they think we all have tractors, wear no shoes and still use outdoor bathrooms. The same goes with NASCAR racing. And I'm sure the movie "Talladega Nights" did nothing for folk's mental image of this so-called sport. Shake and Bake, Ricky Bobby.

When I image googled "NASCAR fans" this is the second photo that came up:



No, I did not have permission from these gentlemen to use their photo. Somehow I think they would have another round, high-five one another and holler "WHOOOOOOOO" if they saw it.

However, after a little bit of searching I found that the NASCAR fan base stretches far beyond the backyard BBQ fellas as seen above. Take for example this:



This would be a photo from an article in the NY Times about race fans who have penthouse condos that over look raceways. This little jewel was about $500,000. So, see, rich folks like NASCAR too.

My conclusion about the racing fan base is people, who transcend all walks of life and socioeconomic levels enjoy watching cars go round and round in circles for hours at a time. Interesting. Very interesting.

I can't really call the hubby a devout NASCAR fan, but he did have some reason to turn it on today after church. Perhaps to get me in the right frame of mind for my usual Sunday afternoon nap. Because not long after the engine revving began, I was out like a light bulb. Only to wake up with about 48 laps to go (that sounded a bit like an informed watcher, huh). Before I knew it, I was mesmerized by those cars going around lap, after lap, after lap. Then *CRASH* and out came the yellow flag. You think in a sport that involves cars going 200mph they would have something other than a handkerchief on a stick to let folks know there's a problem. I found myself watching and waiting for another crash. Kinda like going to a hockey game and hoping there's a good fight!

Another thing that totally amused me were the announcers in suits and ties. I don't know why, but for some reason I envisioned them to be in Bud Light shirts and jeans or something like that. I know, I know that is very judgmental of me and I'm sorry. My husband informed me they are paid professionals. Ohhhh! Sorry guys.

Finally, how does one pick who they cheer for in this sport? Is it the guy driving the car with your favorite number, the cutest driver, the one wearing your favorite colors? Is it passed down in the family--kinda like being an Alabama football fan? Who knows. I went outside the bounds of logic today and simply chose the guy sponsored by one of my favorite things. Who could cheer for any other car when there's some guy driving around in a cute little car with ginormous M&M's on it??? I mean really. And to boot, I *think* there was a giant Snickers bar on the back of the car. Awesome. Seems like there should be a sticker for a PMS pill on there too. It just seems.



I must have done something right. My guy actually won. Woooo hooooo. Anyway, today I have investigated this sport that intrigues so many. Have I now become another crazed NASCAR fan? Certainly not. But I can chalk this up in the "learned something new today" category of my life. And you can too!

1 comment:

jennifer said...

I just don't like NASCAR one little bit. I don't like to watch it on TV and I have never been to Talladega. But, I guess I should be glad that it brings in revenue to Alabama.

The first pic is so funny.

Jennifer