I caught part of a late afternoon clips compilation show yesterday that has convinced me I have got to start watching more NASCAR racing on TV. Considering I don't watch any, some will be a quantum leap and near-massive overdose, but a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. I might even like it. I mean, I have a car, that's half of it right there--and I can make left turns, and...I don't think there is a third thing.
Actually I'm being catty and unkind and you probably didn't bat an eye. One of us has been at this too long and I got here first, pilgrim. I've never watched any form of auto racing, be it the Indianapolis 500 or stock cars or the Grand Prix of Hohokus. It's like pumpkin pie (we had this discussion in my house last night of what to have after Thanksgiving dinner. And when I say 'we', I mean my wife. Lots of talk about lemon meringue and apple pie and one mention of cherry-bet you can guess by whom and bet you can also guess what kind of pie we're having); I've never had pumpkin pie in my life (so far) but I know I won't like it.
And that's what I thought and felt (notice the past tense of the verbs) about auto racing. But then I watched this clip: a guy, in one of those flame retardant suits with a helmet on, fast-walking past a LOT of race cars on a banked turn, all kind of nose to butt stacked behind one another. Obviously he's a driver and equally obviously he's looking for someone and then (I guess) he sees the someone he's looking for in an orange Impala (maybe?) and the fast-walker JUMPS WITH BOTH FEET through the car's windshield and he starts wailing on whoever is behind the wheel and then fast-walks away. The guy in the car climbs out and chases the first guy and they start beating the shifter out of each other.
It was amazing. I love baseball but baseball players fight like gir--well, in light of the soccer player let's use a different comparison, one that you say to yourself, okay? It never crossed my mind that the race car guys would be this passionate, but why not? They're going at ludicrously high rates of speed, risking their lives so there's three, or more, boxcars of adrenaline rush in the general vicinity and large sums of money are involved (I'd love to know what it costs to buy a space on a hot driver's car for whatever it is you're selling). I guess hearts could flutter a bit, all in all.
So to review, you've got money and lots of it; you have prolonged high speeds in very tricked out cars with literally hundreds of thousands of people watching you in the stands (other sports have pauses (innings, quarters, frames) so you can get a soda or hit the bathroom; what's the deal in NASCAR or the 24 Hours at Le Mans?), and I'm the world's most surprised guy that tempers flare. Don't you wonder what's actually in that milk? I saw another video clip of a winning race driver climbing a fence without a ladder. I don't think Federer or Tiger are quite as into that in what they do, at least not with that 2% stuff.
-bill kenny
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