On Heroes
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On
this misty cold Sunday morning a few days after the Thanksgiving feast &
over a week after NASCAR crowned a new series Champion, I take time to ponder
my beloved sport. It's one of those restful days before the Holiday season kicks
into high gear with glitter-laden parties and of course the NASCAR Awards
Ceremony. This visual delight is to be in Las Vegas & I'm quite certain
every NASCAR fan is aquiver with excitement.
What
will the ladies be wearing on the red carpet? Will every savory detail be shown
on television? Will the wives have a brawl live on television the
likes of which will make the Real Housewives of heaven-knows-where pea green
with envy? What will they be eating? Epicurean delights prepared by the best
chefs known to the planet? Oh it's more than a girl can bear. I'm quite certain
NASCAR fans everywhere will be biting into their Sunday morning
sausage & gravy biscuits while waiting on the cows to come to the
gate or the horses to eat, pondering these very things.
To
get a definite feel for the excitement, I log into Twitter completely giddy
with anticipation. Will there be a new speedboat or a blessed kiddie with
an exact replica of the latest Maserati with which to speed around the
manicured grounds of the current manse? I know for sure all my fellow racing
fans will be looking excitedly for the same things… said no sane person
ever! Reality is that it is always heartwarming to see the relatable photos of
a favorite competitor’s family & friends celebrating the Holiday season.
Maybe I'll see outdoor scenes, bonfires & fishing trips. Possibly cute
impromptu captures of family dogs lounging around the fire. This should be heartwarming
& pleasant.
I
log into Twitter almost tasting the home cooking & smelling the wood
smoke. Yet what am I greeted with? Dubai. I see Dubai. No flannel & blue
jean-clad folks out chopping down a family Christmas tree. But giant Mosques
& Abaya clad women.( not that there's anything wrong with that) If
I'm excited enough due to the TV show about the extreme wealth of racing wives
now, I'm quite certain and all the more thrilled extreme shopping trips in
Dubai will be covered ad infinitum . Of course, many of you will say it's sour grapes on my part, this sarcasm I emit; that
I know nothing about B2B selling, thought leaders and influencers. (Although
the best influencer I ever knew was a cow named Lucy that led to whole herd
onto the busy interstate. I bet you thought a yellow-green checkered restart
was bad. ) But give me a break, it's really amazement; I enjoy a good
dumpster fire as much as the next person. I mean the fan base of NASCAR flies
to Dubai all the time.
Now
I'm aware it’s an F1 race with royal princes & movie stars. So I
should not show my ignorance of all things racing. Yet I also know that all the
multi-colored seats in racetracks across our land are placed there in an
obvious attempt to make empty stands look full to the TV viewing masses, all 4
million of them. This is very real & quite concerning. NASCAR just keeps
overshooting the runway. Sponsors are fleeing in droves and I'm pretty certain
that the guy trying to sell tents and outdoor equipment is a tad bit nervous at
this point. Pretty sure the couple looking to purchase a camp stove and
sleeping bags for Talladega is not considering Botox injections and the latest
personal jet deals from Bombardier , but what do I know? Wasn't the most
popular driver for 15 times a dog-loving guy named Dale Earnhardt Jr who pulled
folks out of ditches in Mooresville NC during a snow storm? Riddle me
that.
I
can't help but smile to myself as I look back on this NASCAR season. The big
players, the guys with the stardom & marketing teams who tooled
effortlessly to victory backed by big money were trounced by a
ballsy young fella willing to trade paint & race like it was
meant to be. A driver willing to take a chance and catch a whole lotta
flack to be crowned Champion. Deals were made & pit stalls traded, yet the
loss still came. Oh the horror! I get the vapors just thinking of it. Let me
take a gulp of my soy latte & nibble of my beignet just to go on. (Not
really, it's a black coffee & a ham biscuit from Bojangles)
NASCAR
as I see it has always been a working guys’ sport. It's had the great
backstories of guys drinking a cold beer after perfecting the best race engine,
mechanics swapping theories while sitting around in the evening shooting
at the bats which darted around the streetlight light outside the
race shop. Drivers getting their race game together fishing on Kerr Lake or
bush hogging out on the tractor. Something we can touch and feel, for we the
fans have done that very thing (maybe not the bats). Now racing has become
a mind numbing compilation of stages hovering very close to simply handing
out participation trophies for random things like cutest kid in victory lane or
shiniest car. How about they just run the race and whoever gets to the finish
line first wins? Where's the story of the outstanding dirt track kid given
a chance by a team who by grit & determination wins the championship?
So
I'm going into 2019 a Joey Logano fan. Getting gold stars for just showing up
isn't my thing, nor do I bet it is for a lot of folks. Let's hope his winning
this Championship doesn't make a bull in the field a steer in the lot. Here's
to hoping the next few years don't bring us the OxyContin Cup with exciting
venues such as the Botox 500 and Spanx series. In any case they can make a mud
pit in the winner’s circle and the girls can fight it out. Can you think
of a better way to settle an encumbered win?
Now
I know I'm hovering close to rain, jail, the pickup truck and Mama getting
run over by a danged old train. But NASCAR needs to figure out it'll only hang
around as long as its true base will let it. Right now we barely tune in much
less go to pick it up in the rain.