Monday, April 28, 2008

Race Day; or, Dega-bound

I was slow coming around to NASCAR. My two best buddies in high school were into it, though, and they soon had me hooked. Now I love it.

I love going to races, too, when I can. Tupelo isn't really close to any tracks, but it's only three hours from Talladega. I've gone to the last five races there, I believe, and I've gotten to where I don't get lost once I make it on the property. One time I missed the credential office, and when you miss a turn, there's no going back. Seriously. One-way traffic in there. I had to park with the general public – as opposed to the infield; yeah, poor me – and hoofed it halfway around the track to get in. Wore me out.

I've seen some good races there, but Sunday's was the best thus far. There were 52 lead changes among 20 drivers, and during a couple of stretches guys were trading the lead nearly every lap. Then a rookie, Michael McDowell, spins on the white flag lap, and Kyle Busch (gag!) wins under caution.

I was in the press box, of course, which I feel sort of guilty about. Real NASCAR fans get a seat, a set of headphones, and scream their lungs out. Well, I did find myself standing up on several occasions, so exciting was it. But hey, I had a job to do (some "job").

I've never really had the full Talladega experience: the Saturday Nationwide race, the Saturday night parties, camping out at the track. Not that I feel I'm missing much. I'm all about the racing. And Sunday, it was good.

Today's Redneck Moment: Actually occurred Sunday. Sooo many choices. But I'll have to go with the guys sitting in front of the press box. One was drinking his beer through a funnel, while the other was wearing a giant checkered flag like a cape. Both hung around long after the race ended, with funnel boy screaming "Whooo!" at no one in particular.

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