GENTLEMEN, START YER SCRAPPIN’!:
Our Hero’s Second Foray Into Sports Commentary
Hello again, Fizzers and Fizzettes! It’s been a long time, but I’ve finally gotten around to writing some new stuff for Ye Olde Bunker. I’ve made it my New Year’s resolution to devote more time to producing content for this section of the Revenge, and so here I am.
What do you mean, I’m off to a late start? I only made that resoulution last Thursday!
Anyway! Since my last attempt at sports commentary went so well (you’ll recall I picked the Angels to win the World Series mere hours before they were eliminated from the play-offs), I decided to give it another go-’round. And I do mean go-’round, and ’round, and ’round. Yes, this time out, we’ll be taking a look at the wonderful sport of NASCAR. And if you think NASCAR is just a sport for redneck white-trash inbreds, I think Jimmie Johnson might be inclined to disagree, except he’s too busy polishing his fingernails.
NASCAR sure has changed a lot over the last ten years or so. Anybody that still goes around saying it’s a sport for hillbillies obviously knows nothing about it. The lengths NASCAR officials have gone to trying to gentrify the sport and make it “commercially viable” (as though it weren’t already) get more and more stifling and, to a longtime fan like me, sometimes downright embarrassing. First there was the invasion of pretty-boy drivers, led by Jeff Gordon. Old-school fans hated him for his squeaky-clean image and reedy, accentless voice, and it didn’t help matters any when the little bastard started winning races left and right. Jeff Gordon was the Nirvana of NASCAR, although with obviously much better hygiene habits.
But Jeffie Rainbow is here to stay, and there’s nothing wrong with showering every day. I’ve grudgingly accepted him, and I think most everybody else has too. Doesn’t mean I have to like him, or I won’t laugh my ass off whenever he wrecks.
And then, once we got used to Jeffie, along came Dale Earnhardt Jr., son of one of the most polarizing, love-him-or-hate-him drivers in the history of racing. And then Dale Sr. died in a wreck during the Daytona 500, and Daddy’s fans (and the media) saw a great human-interest story. Whenever Junior has a good run, they crow about it for the rest of the week. When Junior has a bad run, they moan and groan about it for an equal length of time. If Junior has TWO bad races, God help us, the world’s coming to an end!
I could go on about the loss of tradition in NASCAR, or the blatantly corporate nature of so many of decisions the officials have made, but what sport isn’t facing that issue these days? Besides, what I really wanted to get into was that little episode at Bristol a couple weeks ago. During the race, Jeff Gordon crashed. Maybe it was the fault of fellow driver Matt Kenseth, maybe Jeffie wrecked himself. Opinions vary. Jeffie was pissed, which is understandable when you’re running near the front of the pack one minute, and the next you’re sitting in the garage gaping at at a car that looks a little like a beer can that’s been stepped on. So after the race, Kenseth goes over to the #24 garage to apologize for sending Gordon into the wall. Just plain good sportsmanship, right? So with all the TV cameras on them, Gordon reached out and gave him a big ol’ two-handed shove. The fans went wild. Oooooh! Did you see what Jeffie Rainbow did?! They should fine him! They should make him sit out a race. No, TWO races! They should cut off his left testicle, if he has one? No? Well, they should cut off something, an ear maybe. In the end, Gordon ended up being fined $10,000 for the “infraction,” which is small potatoes to a guy who makes several hundred thousand per race, at least.
And the hell of it is, I found myself almost siding with Gordon for once in my life. What’s the big deal? So he shoved him. So what? Was it unsportsmanlike behavior? Well, it wasn’t nice, but fuck “nice.” You know 90% of race fans were hoping for just such an episode after Bristol, a track known for its rough racing and lots of wrecks. They shouldn’t fine the guy for one little instance of bitchiness.
Look, I understand why drivers get fined for rough driving. You’re out there going 180 mph or more, with a couple thousand pounds of car behind you, you can’t go deliberately driving into another car with the intent to wreck him, like Dale Jarrett and Kasey Kahne both did last fall. Off-track behavior shouldn’t be regulated until weapons are involved. The guys who know how to act like gentlemen will do just that, and the ones who won’t, won’t. If Jeff Gordon wants to give somebody a push, fine. If Kevin Harvick wants to chuck a water bottle at a guy he just wrecked, let him at it. Making them cough up ten G’s won’t change the miscreants. Making them forfeit twenty-five points only works for a driver with something to lose. If a driver wants to make himself look like an asshole on national TV, that’s his right and privilege. Just ask Tony Stewart.
And if the girlfriends want to get involved, hey, more entertainment value. I’m referring, of course, to the respective betrotheds of Greg Biffle and Kurt Busch. Maybe it could be a cool pre-race event. Get the wives or girlfriends of two guys who were at odds with each other the previous week over some on-track incident (and there are at least two such guys every week), and before the next race, put ’em in a ring, with or without mud, and let ’em square off. Oh no, but that would cheapen the sport! Hell, it wouldn’t be any worse than turning the drivers into walking, talking sponsor billboards, having to squeeze out so many sponsor endorsements that they barely have time to say anything else.
Speaking of Tony Stewart, we haven’t had a good outburst from ol’ Smoke in a month or so. When will the famously hot-tempered Stewart blow his top next?
With that in mind, I decided to put on my thinking cap (an autographed 1989 Alan Kulwicki/Zerex Anti-Freeze cap) and make a few predictions for the rest of the season.
April 22, Phoenix: When the Nextel Cup rolls into the city of last November’s “routine traffic stop,” Kurt Busch is stopped by police five times during the weekend and given a Breathalyzer each time. The hose breaks twice, and an officer drops the machine on the pavement once. The other two results are inconclusive. Hard-nosed sheriff Joe Arpaio is heard demanding to know “why we can’t pop that little fucker.” The race is delayed 45 minutes because of an on-track demonstration by 1500 illegal aliens in favor of immigration rights, and another half hour after they are herded away so crews can make sure the cars aren’t missing any hubcaps. Jeff Burton is running fourth with twenty-one laps remaining, until he is hit broadside by the lapped car of Scott Wimmer. Burton finishes thirty-fifth.
April 30, Talladega: The Big One takes out thirty-one cars, roughly half of whom are unable to continue in any way, shape of form. The monster wreck was caused by Dale Earnhardt Jr. miscalculating when trying to bump-draft with rookie driver Clint Bowyer. Junior blames Bowyer, then blames Jimmie Johnson, who wasn’t anywhere near the epicenter of the crash, but who is a convenient target anyway. Junior’s #8 Chevy suffers only minimal damage, and he continues on, finishing third. The press goes into a frenzy of Junior-stroking, practically wetting their pants over his “miraculous save.”
May 6, Richmond: During the season’s first short-track night race, Carl Edwards gets turned around in front of Jeff Gordon, who has no choice but to plow straight into him. In the #99 garage, Gordon storms up to Edwards, and accuses him of “stealing my act, you smirking little shit!” Edwards tries to grin and shrug it off, which only infuriates Gordon further, such that he grabs a handful of Edwards’s hair and gives a firm yank. Of course, this all transpires on-camera.
May 13, Darlington: In a surprise announcement before the race formerly known as the Southern 500 and once held over Labor Day weekend (ah, the good ol’ days), NASCAR official Brian France unveils another of his brilliant ideas. “I hope y’all enjoy it tonight, because this is the last race at Darlington. Instead, next year, we’re pleased to announce the newest member of the Nextel Cup family: welcome, Seattle!” South Carolina State Police are brought in to quell the ensuing riot. Race fans everywhere are livid and people in Seattle could care less. “They’ll all come around eventually,” France tells reporters. Tony Stewart intentionally drives into Scott Riggs’s car, and then, in the garage, socks Riggs on the jaw. “You see how he looked at me?” Stewart rages on-camera. Later, he describes the incident as a “little miscommunication,” and says that Riggs has assured him he “won’t give me that shit-eating look anymore.” Stewart is fined $10,000 for cursing on TV, and docked 25 points for rough driving. Riggs says he just wants to go home and lie down with an icepack.
May 28, Charlotte: Despite the race’s starting at 5:30 PM, the checkers don’t fly until 1:15 AM, due to a record twenty-six cautions. Additionally, the race is red-flagged thre times. Jimmie Johnson, driving the Lowe’s Chevy, wins his “sixth or seventh straight win at Lowe’s Motor Speedway, we’ve lost count,” as announcer Benny Parsons puts it. Commentator Jimmy Spencer adds, “Now you tell me there ain’t somethin’ wrong with that.” Spencer is taken aside by NASCAR officials and told to “get onboard here, because Jimmie’s our boy, whether you like it or not.” Several race fans with scanners report hearing race officials ordering other drivers to “let Jimmie by.” In the ensuing week, each of these fans is involved in a mysterious accident, or simply disappears in the night. Meanwhile, LMS president Humpy Wheeler announces that, due to the record number of cautions and in the interest of safety, the track will be resurfaced again, for the second time in under a year.
June 4, Dover: A group of environmentalists questions NASCAR’s decision to “invade” Seattle, raising concerns about the new track’s impact on the ecosystem, traffic and the ozone layer. Brian France attempts to pacify them thusly: “We’ll call it Starbucks International Raceway, how about that? The Buck for short. The fans will love it! The Buck Starts Here! And as for your traffic, it’s already a pain in the ass.” Back in Dover, Jeff Burton is racing with the leaders with twelve laps to go, when a bunch of chickens somehow make their way onto the track. When Burton swerves to avoid them, he finds himself spun around, banged into the outside wall and deposited in the grass. The race is stopped while the chickens are corraled, but the damage is done: Burton finishes twenty-seventh. Performance Racing Network broadcaster Doug Rice tells an unfunny chicken-crossing-the-road joke, and then starts a lame contest for “best chicken riddle,” and thousands of idiots participate to win a worthless Goody’s Headache Powder prize-pack.
June 11, Pocono: Tony Stewart, enraged by a blown engine that causes him to finish thirty-ninth, throws a screaming, fist-pounding fit in the garage, calling crew chief Greg Zipadelli a “back-stabbing, pizza-flipping wop.” Zipadelli calls owner Joe Gibbs to ask about possibly getting switched to teammate J.J. Yeley's crew. An intense team meeting is called, after which Stewart claims that all the differences are resolved, adding, “I have nothing against Zippy for his heritage. Fettuccine alfredo’s my favorite dish.”
June 18, Michigan: Trying for his second career Nextel Cup start, Bill Lester qualifies twenty-eighth. The press heaps praise upon him, with one reporter even calling him the “Jackie Robinson of motorsports.” Al Sharpton proposes making Lester “athlete of the century, for showin’ all them white boy crackers how to haul some black ass!” Lester graciously declines. Sharpton then suggests that Lester be sponsored by Oreos.
June 25, Sonoma: At the first road-race of the year, road-course specialist Boris Said unceremoniously sends Jeff Gordon’s car into the wall, collecting the hapless Jeff Burton. Afterward, during a heated debate in the garage, a red-faced and hyperventilating Gordon grabs Said’s hair and pulls. “I couldn’t resist,” he later tells reporters, tpeaking through a bloody nose, compliments of Said. “His hair is just so sticky-up.” Burton, who had been running fifth at the time, finishes twenty-eighth.
July 1, Daytona: The midpoint of the season arrives with the announcement that, due to corporate mergers, Nascar’s top series will be known as of 2007 as the Nextel Sprint PCS Cingular Verizon Wireless Motorola Mobile Cup. “It’ll be something to get used to,” admits Brian France, “but I see it as a boon to the sport, a good thing, and I think the fans understand that. We’re expanding our visibility and our market share, and this will be a way for us to reach more people for our sponsors.” To help announcers, drivers and crew chiefs learn the new name, he distributes a handy set of flash cards. NASCAR president Mike Helton adds, “Messing up the name on camera will incur stiff penalties of money and points.” As for the race formerly known as the Firecracker 400, Dale Earnhardt Jr. is the obvious favorite to win, but disaster strikes on lap 137 when Junior, running ninth, attempts to muscle his way past Elliott Sadler, and accidentally sparks “The Big One.” Twenty-two cars are involved, but somehow, Junior manages to continue and finish seventeenth. Fans speculate morosely on whether he is “losing it,” while others blame Sadler for being in the way. Former teammate Michael Waltrip comments, “See why I couldn’t wait to get out of there? Dale, Dale, Dale, all the time! I took that shit from my brother, but I ain’t gonna take it from him!”
July 9, Chicagoland: During what is otherwise a complete snore-fest, Kasey Kahne notches his third victory of the season. During a post-race interview, team owner Ray Evernham tells security to “get that guy away from me, I’m on camera.” “That guy” turns out to be Jeremy Mayfield, one of Evernham’s own drivers, whom he didn’t recognize. Rumors fly that Mayfield may jump to Bill Davis Racing in 2007.
July 16, New Hampshire: In a pre-race press conference, Brian France attributes the miserable TV ratings for the Chicago race to “some silly fan backlash about this name-change.” He goes on to state that “NASCAR fans are set in their ways, they don’t like change, but they’re just going to have to get over it. We’re moving forward. And they’re not going to like my next big announcement.” Which is that Toyota will be joining up with the nextel Sprint PCS Cingular Verizon Wireless Motorola Mobile Cup. Jimmy Spencer is placed on suicide watch. Jeff Burton blows a tire and crashes six laps before the end of the race, going from third to twenty-fourth in one fell swoop.
July 23, Pocono: The press is naturally itching for the drivers’ opinions on the Toyota announcement. Top stars like Dale Earnhardt Jr., Jeff Gordon and Jimmie Johnson are all in favor of it, although a press conference hits a snag when Junior drops his cue cards and utters an obscenity, for which he is fined twenty-five points and branded a “habitual offender” by NASCAR officials. Gordon and Johnson play it cool, guzzling Kool-Aid throughout the proceedings. Many remark on teir somewhat glassy-eyed appearance, but it could just be the heat. During the race, Kevin Harvick T-bones Greg Biffle, tries to blame him, and then throws his helmet at him. Shortly thereafter, DeLana Harvick makes a clenched-fisted challenge, on camera, to Biffle’s girlfriend: “I hear you think you’re pretty tough, huh? You want a piece of me? Well, do ya?!” To the vast relief of the #29 crew, Mrs. Harvick is banned from the garage for two weeks. Mike Helton announces that “if this continues, we’re going to have to do something about the bitch problem.”
August 6, Indianapolis: After winning his first-ever Brickyard 400, Jimmie Johnson doesn’t just “kiss the bricks.” He kisses Jeff Gordon. Or rather, Jeff Gordon plants a big wet one on Johnson’s smiling mouth in Victory Lane. Somewhat red-faced, Johnson stammers something about it being ‘just a publicity stunt” and “not my idea.” Later, the sounds of hurled objects and shouting emanate from the #48 trailer. Brian France says that the stunt has gotten him thinking about “possible new marketing angles.” Meanwhile, Tony Stewart angrily claims that HE was supposed to win. “I thought this was all wrapped up, goddammit!” he fumes. No one is quite sure what he means by this.
August 13, Watkins Glen: The NASCAR world is shocked by this week’s allegations against Carl Edwards. The clean-cut, ever-smiling young driver was participating in a promotional contest wherein a lucky (female) fan would get to have dinner with him. The fan in question, one Cheryl Lynn Duffy of Van Wert, Ohio, is now accusing Edwards of rape. “One minute we were enjoying our tiramisu and talking about our dogs, and the next, he was pawing all over me, grunting and puffing like an animal! I couldn’t stop him! I thought he was going to kill me!” She is seeking an undisclosed amount of money in damages. Edwards appears bewildered by the charges.
August 20, Michigan: After narrowly beating Tony Stewart to the checkers, Jimmie Johnson’s car is revealed to contain a real, honest-to-God rocket engine. Apparently, the #48 crew switched it with the regular motor just after inspection. Crew chief Chad Knaus is suspended for one week, but Mike Helton decides not to dock Johnson any points. “After all,” he says, repeating one of Johnson’s own defenses, “the car passed inspection.” Meanwhile, Tony Stewart climbs from his car and punches a fan in the face. “I meant to hit the wall,” he says later, “but he was in the way. We need to do something about these fans with their garage-access passes.” The fan sues, and Stewart settles out of court, but is docked fifty points. “The safety of fans is of the utmost importance,” says Helton.
August 26, Bristol: Gossip columnists report that Jeremy Mayfield was asked to leave an Evernham Motorsports party because some of Kasey Kahne’s friends showed up, and they didn’t have enough chairs for everyone. Rumor also has it that Ray Evernham has stopped returning Mayfield’s phone calls. Feeling abandoned, Mayfield is supposedly looking to take over the $49 car for Brent Sherman, who has proved more than a little disappointing, even by that team’s standards. During the race, Jeff Burton is spun around and slammed into the wall by Kevin Harvick, his own teammate. Harvick’s wife, back in the garage and unrepentant, dares Burton to make something of it. “Don’t even think about laying a finger on my Kevvy!”
September 3, Fontana: Perhaps the most important news this week is that grizzled veteran Morgan Shepherd actually qualifies for the race, after months of fruitless attempts. Shepherd will start forty-second, just ahead of Tony Stewart, who made an engine change and therefore must start last. After a two-hour delay caused by another demonstration against immigration reform, the race begins, and before the first lap is completed, Tony Stewart has run over Shepherd’s car in a move that many see as unduly rough, but not surprising. Stewart justifies it by saying, “I shouldn’t have to be racing guys like him. What’s that old fuck even doing out there anyway?” NASCAR officials elect not to punish Stewart. Mike Helton polishes up the old adage, “That’s racin’.” Jeff Gordon wins the race, ending a twenty-race winless streak, during which were heard whispers that his career might be about over. He and teammate Jimmie Johnson head of to enjoy some of the nightlife in West Hollywood. Papparazzi photograph them walking arm and arm down Santa Monica Boulevard at 3:00 in the morning, swaying slightly and singing “You Light Up My Life” at full volume.
September 9, Richmond: The final race before the Chase for the Nextel Cup arrives: another glorious short-track Saturday night. Morgan Shepherd somehow manages to make his second consecutive race, with a new sponsor. Out is “Victory In Jesus,” which is being investigated by the FBI on suspicion of fraud, and in is a totally new, unheard-of sponsor. And so it is that Shepherd begins the race thirty-first, driving the D-Day’s Revenge Dodge. A boisterous D-Day, having already immersed himself in pre-race beer, is seen slapping backs and shaking hands around the garage area. Alas, Shepherd blows an engine on lap 40 and is retired for the evening, proving that not all that much has changed after all.
Well, that’s a start! Stay tuned to the Bunker, because as the Chase for the Cup draws ever nearer, I will return to make predictions for the final ten races of the season.
Today’s inspirational song lyrics are brought to us, of course, by Sammy Hagar:
“One foot on the brake, one foot on the gas, there’s too much traffic that I can’t pass, no! So I try my best illegal move ………”
