Yes, I am from the south.
Yes, I eat fried chicken.
Yes, I spend Sundays watching races.
I gave up beer. It wasn’t agreeing with my waistline and pocketbook. (My lawyer seemed to think it would be a good idea too.)
I don’t smoke cigarettes and my cell phone carrier is not Sprint.
Perhaps in the early days of the sport it was primarily a southern affair with most of the races on tracks in the deep south. The drivers came from places like Hueytown, Alabama, and Level Cross, North Carolina – Timmonsville and Florence, South Carolina.
These days you’ll find more drivers from California than the Carolinas. (Driver Hometowns) More out west than down south. It’s no longer the domain of the southerner, it’s the sport of the masses. You’ll find race fans from coast to coast, border to border, and beyond. When I watch races on a pirated internet stream, I’m amazed at how many viewers are there from Europe and the far east.
The fact of the matter is there is no such thing as a typical NASCAR fan anymore. We are young and old, rich and poor, male and female; we come from all walks of life around the globe.
Yes, NASCAR is main stream and I like it. So back to what this blog is all about today – why I like it.
I like it for the cars, the drivers, the teams, the speed, the competition, the danger, the swagger, the sunglasses, the tee-shirts, the asphalt, the girls, the pit stops, the National Anthem before the race, (catching breath) the food, the statistics, Darrell Waltrip, the burn-outs on the victory lap, Daytona, Talladega, the fans, and a whole list of things stuck somewhere between my brain and the keyboard.
I love everything about it. I love writing about it and it’s not even about anybody reading it. That’s not the point.
Writing about something you love is good therapy. You oughta try it sometime. 🙂