“How can you enjoy that?" “It's just left turns, how boring," and “Really? Racing? That's a such a redneck sport to watch…" are a few frequent reactions to one's interest in the sport of racing. I suppose in the small-mindedness required to look at a mile-long track with 20+ cars racing each other to victory, it may be “just left turns." To someone like me, to a fan, it is so much more than that continuous left turn.
It's the amazement while watching time trials at how fast the cars can go around the track. It's the mixture of nervousness and anticipation as you watch drivers match and pass each “fastest time". It's the rivalries on the track and the friendships in the pits. It's the respect found in victory lane amongst not only drivers but teams and fans as well.
It's the antsiness mixed with elation and shock as a one-car skid turns into a half-track pileup, devastating the field. It's the earth-shattering screeching of tires stopping to avoid each other, the vibrations pulsing through your body when a car hits the stands. It's the silence felt throughout the stands at the sight of a flipped car, turned into ricocheted applause as the driver steps out and moves, alive and well.
It's the understanding and agreement over driving legends and track history. It's the unending support from families, fans and teams for drivers, despite the gut-wrench felt with every crash or every loss. It's the devotion seen by fans out of teams, building cars to the best they can be and drivers to drive the safest and fastest they can.
It's the exhilaration as your driver passes the others; as they drive their way to
victory lane. It's the excitement as your chest pounds, knowing there's a record in the making, a 40th feature start, 38th Classic start, or 44th feature win. It's the utmost respect and awe seen in the faces and felt in the handshakes of fans when a record is broken.
It's the patriotism behind the ever-American sport; the unanimous removal of hats and simultaneous hand-over-heart for the anthem. It's watching that flag fly high and proud through every turn and every lap. It's the change of the sky from clear blue to pitch black, stars radiating twinkling, unintentionally experiencing the moon's stages as the season goes by.
It's admiring the sunset over the stands, recognizing time and time again the beauty of the world around us, while you're standing there, a tiny spec, experiencing the world's best sport, turn by turn, lap by lap.
It's the shared depression once the season ends, and the restless waiting, ready for the next season to start, bringing more surprises than the year before.
It's the unforgettable smell of burnt rubber mixed with exhaust, radiating through the sky. It's the vibrations pulsing through your body as the cars pass by; the buzzing of the engine radiating through your ears.
It's the fulfillment in the differences each season; the underdog from the year before may be the top-dog for this season- and vice-versa.
Racing is so much more than “just left turns." It's more than a fanbase; it's a family
