Look Ma! I'm on "Cops!"

NASCAR. I'm new to the sport. I never would have even thought about becoming involved with a 5th sport, but a couple of years ago I was talked into throwing in $2 a week for a NASCAR office pool. The pool itself is a veritable chess match, filled with strategy, in which the most cunning player triumphs. We draw two random numbers which correspond to the starting positions of drivers. And that's it. But at least you have somebody to root for. Now I find myself actually tuning in to watch the damn thing.

I believe my distaste for NASCAR is rooted in a trip to a local stock car race when I was eight years old. A neighbor dad rounded up a bunch of us kids and we trekked out to Lancaster Raceway. I found the races to be unbearably loud and inhumanly boring. I found myself hating everyone around me, and plotting ways in which I might be able to murder all of them and get away with it. Then after about an hour, I decided that getting away with it wasn't all that important.

I hate to return to the Olympics here in this blog, but again they raise their ugly friggin' head. The Olympics seem to be largely made up of racing. Olympians race on skis, on foot, in water, and on skates. And damn, that's boring. I watch one horse race a year, and that's mainly for an excuse to drink mint juleps and wear a funny hat. Racing is the basest of sports. Just run, skate, swim or ski faster than everyone else, and you win. It falls into the same class of sport with weight lifting and javelin/discus. Bowling and dodgeball look like rocket science.

And finally, and maybe most importantly, NASCAR is a redneck thang. A white trash joint. No shirt or shoes wearing, domestic disturbance causing, pickup truck with the big old Confederate flag sticker driving rednecks watch this sport. Of course, they probably watch a lot of things. They probably watch the evening news now and again. They might even check out re-runs of "The Twilight Zone" or tune into a late night creature feature or Sunday football. They probably watch all kinds of stuff I watch. Does this fact inch me one step closer to the local trailer park? Am I destined for an appearance on "Cops" with my pasty white chest beared for the world to see, standing on the front porch amidst a sea of empty Natural Light cans, with my fat, angry, black and blue wife screaming obscenities at me through a busted screen door? Fact is, a bajillion people are watching NASCAR and they can't all be taking weekly trips to the holding center waiting for their spouse to sober up and drop the charges. And, I find myself enjoying the races, God help me. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna pour myself a snifter of brandy, pop in a Fellini film, and then head upstairs and smack the old lady. Gentlemen, start your engines.