When I first started this blogging gig, it was August 2003 and my topic of choice was NASCAR. Couple of reasons. One, I love auto racing. Two, blogging gave me the freedom to say my piece without the hassles inherent in the bulletin boards I had previously called home. So away I went, eventually branching out to include other sports and in time create a site for my non-sports musings. Namely, this place. Although GAC is my priority, I still keep my NASCAR blog. One of these days I’m going to start reposting everything on there from the archives created on earlier locations. Come to think of it, I need to do the same here. But I digress.
The idea behind being a sports fan, at least to me, is finding a mini-vacation from the everyday. In a world such as ours, refreshment and renewal is vital. Hence, watching sports. For a few hours I can set aside my cares while giving the wear and tear a chance to heal. Of course it’s more enjoyable when your team, or in the case of racing driver, wins. Yet even when this isn’t the case (and as a San Francisco Bay Area sports fan when isn’t this the case? But again I digress), there is still the time away from it all.
At least that’s the idea.
Yesterday, there was a NASCAR race at the track located in Talladega, Alabama. The track’s configuration makes it the single fastest one at which NASCAR runs, so much so the cars are required to use restrictor plates which cut down on the amount of horsepower the car engines can generate. Even with this, speeds of 200 MPH are the rule rather than the exception. Add to this how by using the restrictor plate all cars on the track have almost identical power, plus aerodynamics making it far easier for cars to bunch together when all are traveling at pretty much the same speed, and you get a pack of cars running three or four abreast in lengthy lines with at best a few feet and more often a few inches separation between one car and the next. In other words, imagine being on a four lane highway, cars on all sides, with everyone tailgating each other.
At 200 MPH.
You can see where this might be an issue.
At most NASCAR races, when a car wrecks it’s a car. One. Singular. Maybe one or two others will be involved. Some torn up sheet metal, maybe some suspension damage, usually a fair bit of anger on the part of whoever was on the receiving end of the deal. That’s racing.
A 3400 pound car turning into Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, not so much.
Yet this is precisely what happened yesterday at Talladega, when on the last lap Carl Edwards, who had been leading the race until passed by Brad Keselowski, misjudged in his effort to retake the lead and barely — barely — clipped the right front of Keselowski’s car. Edwards shot up the track, the back end of his car in the air. It came down directly on the hood of Ryan Newman’s car. The force of the contact and the speed involved made Edwards’ car become completely airborne. It hit the catchfence roof first, showering a part of the crowd with flying debris which injured eight. Edwards’ car eventually came a stop. To the relief of all, he climbed out.
To me, that’s not getting away from it all.
I watch racing to see cars driven by the best drivers in the world pass and compete with each other. I don’t watch for the crashes. I sure don’t watch to see people cheat death by the skin of their teeth. While I am fully aware of the dangers inherent in racing, seeing them unnecessarily amplified… no. Not what I want to see. Ever.
I said I want a diversion. Disaster doesn’t qualify.
