Bristol

Bristol -- it's like two-stepping in a small-town, country bar on a Saturday night: you gotta be careful not to get caught up in somebody else's wreck!

Watkins Glen: Doin' the "right" thing

Watkins Glen: one of my favourite races of the season. Why? ‘Cause two of my top three drivers will put on a clinic. J. Gordon and Stewart are experts on road courses and both have four wins each at the Glen (Jeffy did it in five years, and Smoke in six).

It’s also the kinda track where one of my other faves tends to thrive. Robby Gordon rarely sits pretty at the end of a oval, but the boy knows his ess turns.

Martin, Montoya and Kahne will be ones to watch too.

I’m a road course fan (I get sick of arguing my NASCAR affliction/addiction with people who don’t understand the drama of the perpetual left turn). These guys are race car drivers and they can turn right, shift into hairpins and navigate a squiggle at mind blowing speeds same as those drivers of them european, go-kart looking things they call cars. And, Watkins, unlike Sonoma, is a FAST course! You gotta shift on the fly, lay off the clutch and the brake, and get yourself in position for some serious passing.

I do think there should be a road course in the Chase, and can’t figure out why there isn’t. If we’re testing the top 12 drivers and their crew’s over all ability over the last 10 races, shouldn’t they have to run the gambit?

So, I’m thinking this weekend isn’t going to have that big of an effect on the standings, but it’ll be fun to watch. My Bobo (Jimmy Johnson: second favorite driver) is going to have to pull a decent finish, though. Hopefully he hasn’t finished learning from his dojo!

CNC, out

Danica Patrick? Check yourself!

I recently had a “check yourself” moment and it started with Danica and ended with Patrick.

Okay, ladies: you CANNOT tell me that you, like me, don’t love the fact that NASCAR is a white hot male dominated sport (punctuation intentionally absent, so take that as you see fit and do not judge me).

Here’s the issue: we could now have a chick on the track who can turn left with the best and is cute to boot. Gawd damn, that just pisses me off. Yep, I said it.

Com'on now. We all know NASCAR wives are smokin’ hot and positioned just "so" in front of the camera (How long ‘til DKNY sponsors Mrs. Johnson’s favorite johnson?) AND, let’s face it, the ‘bud girl’ chick-poos commentating track-side aren’t just there for their stellar insight and cutting edge interviewing skills, ahem.

HOWEVER, this Danica chick?!?! Like, what, what, what is this? And here, folks, is where the psycho, self-analytical, “check yourself” moment comes in: don’t hate me ‘cause I’m...female? Really???? Why do I have an issue with a girl competing in my favorite sport?

Here are the facts:

1. Believe it or not, she can drive (and I cannot believe I said “believe it or not”...I should be shot);
2. From what I hear, she’s not bad looking (To be honest, I haven’t checked her out yet. Let’s face it, I have just recently admitted that she even exists...baby steps...); and,
3. Her first and last names are inter-changable (Gawd damn! Was she born under the lights at Talladega?).

BUT, cramming all jokes into the 55 car (Mikey, sweetie, you are hilarious!!!) and getting serious for just a sec: if I could be her, I would be her. Yes, I would too!!?! In a Pocono, two tire, pit I would! It’s the COULD that’s the problem! And that, right there, sums up the issue. I’m jealous.

Again, setting my lack of talent aside for a moment (this is not about me), here’s the deal:

I totally get the “if you can’t join ‘em, beat ‘em” crap. Therefore, Danica, if you can beat my boys, or even just run a full race without pulling any “super” dumb ass, rookie, bullshit mistakes (unless your sponsor wants ‘em for air time, and then you gotta make a call sweetie, what’s your dignity worth? remembering that the “normal” dumb ass, rookie, bullshit mistakes that are typically excepted, even accepted in a testosterone driven universe, will not be, for you) then I’m all over it!

Really Danica, just land yourself a respectable finish and you’re all good with me, sweet pea. [My gawd! If you actually won one you would hit iconic, heroine status in my books. Hey?!? I might even break into song -- okay promise, I won’t -- now there’s incentive for you!] That said, you can’t scoot the radar forever, Miss ‘trick. If you’re in this thing, where are you baby?!?

So Danica, here’s to you! This NASCAR chick has your back for now, so, hav’at’ter! Just don’t embarrass us, K?!? [Oh, and step awaaaaay from the 24 car...way away...like don’t even look at it. There will be NO trading paint between you two on my watch, Missy! Do we understand each other, ‘tricky???? --- Smile and nod, Danica, smile and nod. Remember: so far, I’m impressed, but I am also a green-eyed, monster from hell! (It’s true: I’m now admitting hell exists and this cellar dweller is a Jeffy fan!)]

Pleeeeeeease don’t blow this. They already think we can’t drive.

[Exactly when did this become a personal letter to Danica Patrick and when did I become an activist for female drivers? I believe there’s ice in the basement. GG Chucky B!]

CNC, out.

The Tricky Triangle

I know a few things about triangles, and I’ve never met one that wasn’t tricky. As an only child and a consummate third wheel, I’ve become a bit of an expert at examining all the angles.

Pocono. To be honest, the track reminds me a little of every relationship I’ve ever had. You come out of the gate fast with a lot of people in the way, but you don’t care. You hit the first corner racin’. You might be shaky, but you’re psyched - in it to win it, baby! Make it through that one and you’re committed (like the pig, not the chicken at breakfast). The road may be bumpy but as long as you’re in position, you’re okay. You see the second corner coming. You’re ready for it, but is your ride? Get through that and you’re cruising the next straight...but it’ aint easy! The track is rough, you gotta pick your groove, and the next turn comes up quicker than you think! Will it be for the worse? Time to start thinkin’ beyond the adrenalin, ‘cause once you’ve cleared turn three, it’s time to make a call. Whaddaya do...decisions, decisions! Maybe you’re in it for the long haul (or “long pond” as the case may be), but who knows what this course, your ride, or extraneous circumstances will throw at you. Without a good solid team in your pit and a spotter that’s got your back, you’re sunk.

Best of luck to all my boys, but my money’s on Kasey Kahne this Sunday. Why? ‘Cause three squared is 9, baby!

Every Little Girl's Dream

Okay, maybe it’s not every little girl’s dream, but it’s this little girl’s dream: I’m going to DAYTONA, baby! Stick that in your jock and itch it! How excited am I?!? Look out Daytona 500 2010, here I come and I can’t wait!!!

But, am I alone????

Is it weird that this “29” year old, over-educated, professional female from CANADA gets a tingle in her shorts each and every time she hears those sweet little words “Gentlemen, start your engines!”, or that my pulse starts racing right along with the boys after DW’s trademark “Boogity, boogity, boogity...” call?

Am I so strange? I don’t think so. Lot’s of chicks have a need for speed (everywhere ‘cept in the bedroom...and even then, a quicky green flag pit once in a while can be just what the doctor ordered). And it’s not just the race, it’s the MEN!!! My gawd it’s a veritable shmorg out there on the circuit. You can’t tell me Jeff Gordon’s eyes haven’t turned straight men gay and had a few lesbians switching jerseys. Feelin‘ hot, hot, hot! Good lord he’s good lookin’! But I digress.

Turns out the term “NASCAR chicks” is actually defined:

(noun) NASCAR chicks are women and girls who often are involved in the sport due to the sexiness of the drivers. They also enjoy the loud noises caused by the engines, and don’t mind being proud about they’re being a NASCAR fan. However, do not refer to these fragile creatures as rednecks, for they can become angered and violent. Their natural habitats include trailers, ingrounds, grandstands and on rare occasions, homes in the city (these species are endangered). They can drink any other girl under the table and aren’t afraid to kick ass. (Source: Urban Dictionary - www.urbandictionary.com).

Are we really endangered and is my mission in life to regenerate the species? We shall see.