Back From Bristol
March 24th, 2009 by Tank
I now understand why Bristol Motor Speedway is referred to as “Thunder Valley.” A half-mile track in what is essentially a huge football stadium (capacity: 160,000), the cars are never out of sight or earshot, and the roar of all 43 engines echos around without pause. It is also located in the very hilly Northeastern corner of Tennessee, and the track itself - in marked contrast with, say, the surrounding parking lots - seems to be situated on a small mountain, giving it added grandeur but making it a royal pain to climb up to. Bonus: there is an Arby’s concession stand inside the track. Plus, in contrast with other sports, you can bring your own coolers, food and beverages inside, so spending the day getting wrecked in the stands doesn’t require a home equity loan.
Saturday was the Scotts Turf Builder 300, the race in the “developmental” Nationwide series, though in recent years it has been dominated by top Sprint Cup series drivers puling double duty. The sponsors are very different, reflecting the lower costs of sponsorship; there are many regional sponsors, and brand-level (as opposed to corporate-level sponsors). Some sponsors reinforce the stereotypes about NASCAR and its fans; the US Border Patrol, sponsoring the #28 Chevrolet driven by Kenny Wallace, was recruiting outside the track, and its presence could easily be viewed as an indicator of nativist sentiment. There is also a car with a unique non-financial sponsor. Morgan Shepherd, a 67 year old driver who was very competitive in the 70s and 80s, now drives for a higher purpose. The hood of his #89 Chevrolet says “Racing for Jesus,” so I guess he’s spreading The Word in his own way. The decal on the rear of the car says “Racing for Souls,” though, which gives the enterprise more of a devil-went-down-to-Georgia cast.
We were hoping to see some of the cars with naturally antagonistic sponsors go after each other; maybe see the Border Patrol car trade paint with the Taco Bell car, or a battle-of-the-energy-drinks between Steve Wallace’s #66 5 Hour Energy Chevrolet and Scott Speed’s #99 Red Bull Toyota. But we got even better than that: less than halfway through the race, the #1 Miccosukee Resort & Gaming Chevrolet (sponsored by the Miccosukee Seminoles, operators of a large casino in Southern Florida), was smote by Morgan Shepherd’s Racing for Jesus car. We never ascertained whether this divine retribution was attributable to the Seminoles’ gambling endeavors, or to their status as heathens. Later in the race Shepherd was hit from behind, and his pit crew had to pull out the hammers and pound the sheet metal on the rear of the car back into place, while chanting “The power of Christ compels you!”
Among the Sprint Cup drivers in the Nationwide series is Greg Biffle, who drives the #16 Citi Financial Ford. It’s probably a good thing thing that NASCAR’s demographics have zero overlap with the attributes of Barney Frank (except obese-Americans), given the sponsorship by so many corporate welfare cases. It’s also probably good for Citigroup that Biffle was sick and had to be replaced by his Roush Matt Kenseth. As far as sponsors from the financial services sector go, Greg Biffle is NASCAR’s answer to Ted McGinley. In addition to driving for a bank currently on life support, Biffle’s past financial sponsors include subprime mortgage lender Ameriquest (defunct) and tax prep outfit Jackson Hewitt (down 80% YTD). He also briefly drove for disability insurer Aflac, but evidently the duck saw the writing on the wall and now sponsors Biffle’s teammate Carl Edwards.
Capping off Saturday’s festivities were two brief celebrity races and a legends race, 35 laps featuring still-active Sterling Marlin, recently retired Rusty Wallace, Daytona pugilist Cale Yarborough, and former champion and moonshine runner Junior Johnson, immortalized in print by Tom Wolfe, in film by Beau Bridges, in song by Bruce Springsteen, and now peddling a new, legal (albeit only 80-proof) moonshine. David Pearson was scheduled to drive as well, but handed the wheel to his son owing to health, which had also caused Ned Jarrett to decline the invitation. Rusty went after it hard, but couldn’t catch Marlin who led wire to wire. The celebrity races were underwhelming, though they gave us some questions to ponder, such as “How did Brad Dougherty fit into a stock car?” and “What the Hell is MTV Headbangers’ Ball host Rikki Rachtman doing here?” Actually, all of the celebrities had some connection to NASCAR, had spent a lot of time in the garage, had in all probability driven many laps in the past, and yet still had trouble controlling their cars, which gave us an added appreciation of the skills of the Cup drivers, who make driving within inches of each other, at speed, look easy.
Sunday’s Food City 500 race was fun, though I was a bit disappointed by the paucity of wrecks on a short track, as well as by the result - another victory for Kyle Busch. Busch is the Black Hat of the day in NASCAR and was booed energetically by the crowd. I admit to being of two minds on Busch the younger. On one hand, he is a punk. On the other, he is very young, so deserves some slack in that regard, he is supremely talented, and, really, the on-track behavior for which he is vilified is the same as that for which Dale Earnhardt remains celebrated. Earnhardt was glorified as The Intimidator, feared in rear view mirrors because if you didn’t get out of his way, he’d move you out. He asked no quarter and gave none, and remains a folk hero. Busch not only has the temerity to drive the same way, but in doing so wrecked the most popular driver in the world, Dale Jr., at Talladega last year. Plus, he drives for Joe Gibbs, whom I like, and as a result drives a Toyota, and I like to see Toyota beat the crap out of the American welfare queens with which it competes. Busch took the lead early and pulled away as he executed laps with clockwork precision, hitting the lowest possible line around the turns, and coming up to within a few inches of the wall at the midpoint of the straightaways.
March 25th, 2009 at 8:07 am
I don’t know if it’ll be an annual pilgrimmage a la Mecca, but we really need to get together on the infield at one of these things some day… preferably before retirement (although once we all retire, that would seem to afford *more* time for things like this, I suppose). I have no particular interest in NASCAR, but I guess my attitude can best be summed up by Bill Murray and Harold Ramis in “Stripes”:
Recruiter: Now, are either of you homosexuals?
John Winger: You mean like flaming?
Recruiter: Well, it’s a standard question we have to ask.
Russell Ziskey: No, we’re not homosexual, but we are willing to learn.
John Winger: Yeah . . . Would they send us someplace special?
I guess that’s where I am. I’m not a NASCAR fan… but I’m willing to learn (ideally some place special i.e. with a case of Old Milwaukee in the infield of some race track, atop a Winnebago… but I think that’s just common sense).
March 25th, 2009 at 2:36 pm
I think the obvious choice is Vegas, since it affords plenty of other things to do for those not captivated by colorful machines moving in circles. The infield camper crowd is interesting from a clinical perspective but otherwise should only be taken in low doses.
March 26th, 2009 at 8:13 am
That could work. And for the record, I may be in the group (perhaps the minority group) that gleans more entertainment from watching the NASCAR fans around me than from watching the actual race. Is that so wrong?
March 30th, 2009 at 5:19 pm
Now when Cliffy and I dreamed up a blog for our crew, THIS is the kind of post I had in mind. I nearly spit water on my monitor 4 or 5 times. Especially loved the Ted McGinley reference.
Gold, Jerry, Gold!!!
Oh, and count me as very interested in a trip. And no, Cliffy, you would not be alone in that group…