I know that I’m going to anger some folks with the last “Flies in the Pinetar” of the semester, but hey, this is all in good fun – remember that.
I’ve laid off of NASCAR until now because, well, I don’t have a “A’int Skeered” sticker in my car window, so I must be a bit afraid to attack the country’s fastest growing outdoor “sport.” But, I still can’t really consider NASCAR a sport because no athletic skills are being showcased: Push pedals, turn wheel.
As a matter of fact, I don’t know what NASCAR is. I just know that I want it off of sports television. Do you think that if you tied a monkey’s arm to the steering wheel and trained him to turn left that he could have consistent top ten finishes? Maybe not; the monkey would probably get bored.
I’ve often enjoyed imagining that during a driver’s first lap he notices a pretty girl in the stands and say to himself, “Shoo-wee, she’s purdy,” and honks his Dukes of Hazzard horn. Then, he completes his first oval and comes to the same spot again, forgets, notices the girl and says, “Shoo-wee, she’s purdy” and continues that kind of witty inner-dialogue another 250 times during that afternoon.
I’m not saying that NASCAR is bad, it’s just not something I ever want to hear about or see. Kind of like darts on television. Or pool. Or bowling. Or hunting. Or poker (although I love it – still not an athletic feat). These kinds of things need their own network. Let’s call it the “Boredom Network” – your satisfying alternative to entertainment!
I know, I know, baseball is unbearably boring to many people, and it helps to understand the nuances of the sport or anything that you intend to criticize, but since when has sports journalism been about deeper understanding? I’m just trying to fit in.
I guess if you’re a mechanic or something, watching the pit crews might be pretty interesting, but I usually just read a magazine when I’m at the Jiffy Lube. (Gotta catch up on the latest with Angelina, Brad and poor Jen…alas.)
Maybe being at the track has some sort of Zen-like visceral gifts to shower upon the observer that I’m just not getting on my Sportscenter highlights. Maybe all of that drafting and “swapping paint” has its place in the pantheon of cultural awareness that I’ll never quite understand.
But, until enlightenment hits me, I going to have to place NASCAR up there with professional pool on television as one of my least favorite pastimes.
I know how to spice it up a bit: have the drivers cut a big hole in the floorboards and pick up their cars and run around the track Fred Flintstone style – now that would be fun to watch.