(Editor's note: I apologize for the lack of quotes and apostraphes in this article. For some reason my email replaced them all with little squares and then nothing showed up when I pasted it here. Considering the fact that the chase starts today, I couldn't see myself taking the time to go through the entire column and trying to figure out exactly where everything should go.)
STILL GOING AROUND IN CIRCLES: Fizzys Third Annual NASCAR Chase Predictions!
Well now! Seems like the only time I get around to updating the Fizzbunker anymore is to do my NASCAR predictions. I know Ive promised before that Ill write more stuff, and its come to naught, so I wont do that here. I will only drop the broad hint that you might want to look in here soon.
Its been quite the year in NASCAR so far. Or maybe it hasnt. Along about June, I found myself getting seriously bored. I was sick to death of hearing people practically awarding Kyle Busch the championship, and sick of watching the little punk act like hed already won it. Sick of listening to people demand, When is Jeff Gordon going to win a race? Sick of watching them cream their jeans when Dale Earnhardt, Jr., finally won (It was a FUEL-MILEAGE race, for shits sake!). For a while there, it was starting to seem like maybe all those detractors and non-racing types might be right about the sport being nothing but a bunch of cars going around and around.
Granted, things have perked up again lately. It all began with the disaster at Indianapolis in July, which might well have been renamed The 43 Stooges At The Brickyard. And then there was Kyle Buschs bitch-fit at Bristol, when Carl Edwards reminded him none-too-gently that his wasnt the only car on the track. And lets dont forget all the premature silly season drama, as drivers play musical cars in preparation for 2009. That particular topic contains at least one positive: no more Dario Franchitti. The much-hyped open-wheel star, celebrated as much for his good looks and relationship with Ashley Judd as anything else, was a total washout as a NASCAR driver. With great fanfare, car owner Chip Ganassi booted promising young David Stremme back to the newly rechristened Nationwide Series, a.k.a. the secod tier, and installed Franchittis high-priced, photogenic ass in his place. Franchitti immediately embarked on a series of misadventures. He didnt finish races on the lead lap. He didnt finish races, period. He didnt START races. He worked doggedly, but ultimately without success, on figuring out how to get out of his own way. His misadventures culminated in a broken ankle during a practice session, and he was mercifully unable to drive for several weeks. Shortly thereafter, with sponsors no doubt pounding his ear, Ganassi decided to park the car entirely. Meanwhile, David Stremme went on to do fairly well in the Nationwide Series, where, at the time of this writing, he ranks twelfth in points. A distant twelfth, but far better than Franchitti fared in Stremmes old ride. David Stremme: the new Jeremy Mayfield.
Okay, so maybe things still arent that interesting. But thats why Im here! And now its Chase time, and time once again to wave my magic air-wrench, accidentally shattering my crystal ball. And unfortunately, a jack slipped last week and a car fell on my Ouija board, rendering it useless as well. So instead of offering you psychically-accredited predictions, it looks like I will once again have to make em up.
September 14, New Hampshire: The All-Consuming Cellular Conglomerate Series rolls into Loudon, New Hampshire, for Week #1 of the Chase For The Cup. It is the much-vaunted debut of teen prodigy Joey Logano. Although Logano is driving the lightly-funded #96 car, owned by the optimistically-named Hall Of Fame Racing, his real boss, Joe Gibbs is hanging close by his young drivers side. During pre-race festivities, Gibbs is overheard saying, Okay, you figured out what youre going to say when you win yet? Logano shrugs. Sort of, he says. Gibbs shouts in exasperation, Goddammit, kid! Youve got 300 laps to figure it out! I want a rough draft at halfway! Even Tony Stewart, not necessarily known for his benevolence toward young drivers, let alone one that will have his job next year, calls for reason. Dont you think youre being a little hard on the kid, Joe? he ventures. Gibbs jabs a finger at him. What do you care? he demands. Ive got your number, buster! And in a few weeks, it aint gonna be #20! Why dont you go back to coaching your lame-ass football team, you old shitbird?! Stewart erupts. They need you more than we do! The two men are squaring off when a reporter calls, Joe! Joe! How do you like Loganos chances today, think hes got a shot to win? Gibbs smiles modestly, and says, Hes a talented young whelp, and were real hopeful. He might not win today, but hell at least be right up there contending, and if he doesnt pull off a top-five, Ill be real surprised. Stewart stalks off in disgust. Just a little case of the green-eyed monster, Gibbs reassures the frantically scribbling reporter. Logano starts 40th in the race, but only lasts 38 laps before spinning out and smacking the wall, taking Robby Gordon with him. Walking out of the infield care center, Gordon mutters, Overhyped fuck! When asked to repeat it, he shrugs and says, I really had fun!
September 21, Dover: Ever wondered how come you never see Tony Stewart or Dale Earnhardt, Jr., with a girl? Wilmington News-Journal gossip columnist Ryan Cormier might have the answer, when he reports that the two Chase contenders were seen making the rounds at certain establishments in Rehoboth Beach. Stewart was dressed as a cowboy, Junioor as a policeman. Jimmie Johnson was also spotted around the resort town, disguised as a construction worker. Cormier speculates that the drivers must be really feeling the pressure of the media, since theyre taking the concept of incognito to outlandish new heights. joey Logano fails to make the race, when Bill Elliott uses one of his champions provisionals. Kyle Busch finishes 4th, and places the blame on what he deems a slow pit stop. Leaving his pit stall, he attempts to run over one of his own crew members.
September 28, Kansas: As usual, NASCAR Svengali Brian France is full of surprises. We need to attract athletes from other sports, he announces at a press conference. The talent pool is just not very deep at this point in time. NASCAR.coms Dave Rodman interrupts to ask, What about the Nationwide Series, the Craftsman Truck Series, ARCA, the Camping World circuit, late-model racing, all that stuff? France waves his hand dismissively. Lets think outside the box, Dave! Weve had considerable success with drivers from other types of racing, guys like Tony Stewart, Juan Pablo Montoya, Dario Frananyway! Its time to take that paradigm to the next level! And with that in mind, Im proud to announce NASCARs latest signing: Lance Armstrong! The applause quickly dies away as the various journalists gape at each other in confusion. If you think about it, Armstrong tells them, there are a lot of similarities between driving a car in a circle for 400 miles and pedaling a bicycle through the French countryside. Im real excited to start this next phase of my career! Gee, one reporter says timidly, do you think youll get enough horsepower? Armstrongs face darkens. Im a cancer survivor, you dipshit! If youre going to start taking cheap shots about that, this press conference is over! A statement is released later, informing the world that Armstrong will be piloting a sixth car for Roush-Fenway Racing. When France is asked how this can be, what with NASCARs new ownership restrictions, he answers, This is a very special day for our sport and our sponsors, and sometimes, you have to make exceptions. Meanwhile, at the track, Joey Logano crashes during qualifying and fails to make the race. Youre just driving in a fucking circle! Joe Gibbs bellows. ONCE! How hard can that be?! Carl Edwards wins the race, taking a commanding points lead early in the Chase. Kyle Busch finishes 14th, due to what he describes as my dickweed spotter talking about what kind of pizza we were getting later instead of what was happening on the track. The chatty spotter is fired immediately. Adding insult to injury, he is then hit in the face with a slice of hot pizza, as Kyle Busch screams, I told you I hate fucking green peppers, you fucking retard!
October 5, Talladega: Everybodys eager to get back to racing this week, after last weeks event was overshadowed by drama. Joey Logano cant be located at qualifying. Joe and J.D. Gibbs race frantically around, but he is nowhere in sight. Finally, J.D. sees a vaguely familiar face hanging out near the merch trailers. Can you drive? J.D. demands. Without waiting for an answer, he drags the fellow off to the waiting #02 Toyota, delivering a crash-course in How To Drive A Stock Car. When he can get a word in, the innocent bystander says, J.D., I think weve met before. Im Hermie Sadler. Were fucked! moans J.D., throwing up his hands. Just then, Logano saunters up, saying, Sorry, boss, but I got involved playing World Of Warcraft, and I guess time got away from me. J.D. flies into a rage, but Logano manages to qualify 39th. On Sunday afternoon, the dreaded Big One is touched off by NASCARs newest sensation, Joey Logano, and fellow rookie Michael McDowell. Also collected in the pileup is former presumptive Cup-winner Kyle Busch, who now drops to seventh in points. Jimmy Spencer describes it as yet another triumph for Toyota. Responds the younger Busch, That old fartsack is kicking the wrong hornets nest! Spencer is unafraid. So you want a piece of me too, do ya? Spencer is banned from the track for the remainder of the Chase.
October 11, Charlotte: The whole world is caught up in Logano-mania, and Teresa Earnhardt is right there with them. Big Es widow, whom we encountered in last years column beguiling young Aric Almirola, now has her sights set on NASCARs newest barely-legal phenomenon. I think he needs a mother figure, she tells the press. Sometimes, these men can be so harsh and mean. Ive heard Joe Gibbs just scream and yell and curse at the poor thing. Now me, I know how to treat a young boy. When asked about the possibility of a bidding war, Mrs. Earnhardt smiles wickedly and says, Oh, I think I can offer some incentives that Gibbs just cant. An emergency meeting is called to decide what to do about this goddamn cougar shooting her slutty moth off, as NASCAR chief enforcer Mike Helton puts it, but no decision is reached. Meanwhile, before the race, one-time track king Jimmie Johnson grandiosely proclaims that this week is the week I take back whats mine! Matt Kenseth has other ideas, however, and Johnson has to settle for a 3rd-place finish. As he climbs dejectedly from his car, he is seen tossing a small, black box into the bushes. Piece of shit! he mutters. The object is recovered by a reporter, who is only able to identify it as some kind of remote control thingamajig. NASCAR declines to look into the matter.
October 19, Martinsville: Surprise! Brian France chirps. Hes just cooked up another of his genius ideas. Its inversion time! The inversion was, of course, a feature of the all-star exhibition race for a number of years. The basic principle was that, at the halfway point in the race, a certain number of drivers at the front of the field would have to reverse their running order. The inversion was abandoned at the all-star race once it finally sunk in that everybody thought it was pretty stupid and pointless, but now, France has found a way to apply it to the Chase. Thats right! Effective immediately, the points standings will be reversed for the twelve drivers in the Chase. Wed been receiving feedback from some of the sponsors at the lower end of the Chase, wondering if we couldnt find some way to get them equal exposure, and I think weve found something to make them happy and make it more exciting for fans. Because this sport is all about the fans! Points leader Carl Edwards is understandably furious. I dont believe this! he fumes. Weve been working so hard at this Office Depot Roush-Fenway Ford Fusion team, and all of a sudden, it turns to absolute SHIT! For NO FUCKING REASON! Mike Helton quickly frog-marches him to another room, where he proceeds to scold the still-seething Edwards. You know, Carl, the world doesnt revolve around you. Sometimes you have to do things you dont want to, for the good of the sport. And I can tell you, an outburst like that isnt helping your case any. You know our policy on foul language. Youre already on probation for that episode at Bristol. Any more of that potty mouth, and youll be in an even deeper hole. Edwards emerges a changed man. He smiles graciously and tells reporters, This inversion thing is really exciting, and I think it adds a whole new element of suspense to the Chase. He then goes into his hauler and throws things and screams for an hour. Kyle Busch, on the other hand, is tickled. He had previously sunk to ninth in the points after a mediocre finish at Charlotte, and now finds himself in fourth, still in contention for the title. Lots of people thought they could write Kyle Busch off, he says, displaying a disturbing tendency to refer to himself in the third person, but Im here to tell ya, Rowdys back in town, BEYAAATCH! Of course, some muckraking journalist has to ask him about the Edwards episode. Busch sneers. Karmas a scabby old whore, aint she, Smiley? You called down the thunder, and Kyle Busch is raining on your parade!
October 26, Atlanta: Brian France is on a roll. You already know that next year, well be swapping the race dates for Atlanta and Fontana, he announces, referring to NASCARs attempt to bolster the flagging attendance at the two tracks. But theres more! Next year, the Atlanta race will be held on Tuesday evening, so theres no chance that college football will draw people away. Ive been brainstorming with [track owner] Bruton Smith, and we think weve come up with a great, innovative solution. Were gonna fill those seats, you wait! But whos going to go to a race on a Tuesday night? asks one reporter. France frowns. You know, if youre going to get ahead in this sport, or in this world in general, you cant be a naysayer. I have no time for this type of negative thinking in my life. Meanwhile, at the track, Joe Gibbs is aghast at the appearance of Joey Logano. What is that in your mouth?! he thunders. Iss a hung-hiercing, Logano explains. I ot my hung hierced. You got your TONGUE PIERCED, Gibbs fairly screams. Yeah, Logano says. All my friends have em. Oh my God! Gibbs groans, head in hands. Mike Helton steps in. Look, sport, he says, putting a fatherly hand on the lads shoulder. Theres a lot of factors involved in this sport. Theres a thing called fan likeability, and Im afraid you mightve done serious damage to that. Youve got everything lined up in your favor, why do you want to go and do a thing like this? Thats for deviants and weirdos. Make him take it out! J.D. Gibbs whines. Helton ignores him. Theres a lot riding on you, son. Look, just dont open your mouth this weekend, okay. Well tell the media youve got laryngitis. Thatll be a great human-interest story when you win the race. Logano does not win, of course. In fact, he has to leave the race early due to severe swelling of the tongue.
November 2, Texas: The NASCAR world is rocked when a YouTube clip surfaces, featuring Kasey Kahne, the baby-faced favorite of pre-teen girls everywhere, and the Jonas Brothers, purity-ring-wearing pop-rock darlings. In it, all four appear visibly intoxicated, and are discussing the merits of pre-teen girls. Hey, Kahne slurs, if theres grass on the field, Im playin ball! General hilarity ensues, and then Nick, the sensitive boy genius and youngest Jonas, adds, Yeah, dude, old enough to bleed, old enough to butcher. Disney summarily drops the Jonases, but the solution for NASCAR is less cut-and-dried. His sponsor, Budweiser, doesnt seem to have a problem with it, and while the number of teenage girls sporting #9 gear is significantly down, it is more than compensated for by the sharp increase in 20-something horn-dogs now proclaiming their allegiance. Teresa Earnhardt is not amused. See? This is what happens when an impressionable young boy doesnt receive the guidance he needs to become a true gentleman, and instead hangs out with great role models like that dirty old Ray Evernham. Please, dont let this happen to Joey Logano. He needs me! But I need him! Joe Gibbs retorts. With him behind the wheel instead of Smoke, the #20 will weigh a hundred pounds less, at least! Fuck you, you fucking asshole! Tony Stewart hollers, throwing aside his box of Krispy Kremes. Jimmy Spencer was right all along! I cant wait to ditch that fucking rice-burning piece of shit and get behind the wheel of a REAL car! A restraining order is filed against Mrs. Earnhardt, requiring her to stay at least a hundred yards away from Logano. It is not apparent how that distance will be maintained in the tight confines of the garage and pit areas.
November 9, Phoenix: Ive decided to make a change, Joe Gibbs tells the media. Ive decided that, to help give Joey the most possible experience before he starts his rookie season next year, were going to switch the driver-owner points on the #20 and the #02. This guarantees him a starting spot in every race, and best of all, it puts him in the Chase! Adds a jubilant Brian France, Youre watching history unfold, folks! This kid is the first-ever pre-rookie Chase contender! Hes only 18! Tony Stewart rushes the podium, spit flying from his mouth as he screams incoherently. He is physically restrained, and placed under 72-hour observation, thereby missing the race, which he wouldnt have qualified for anyway. Its the changing of the guard, France observes philosophically. Out with the old, in with the new. Logano starts 12th, and remains near the front for almost half the race, until inexplicably losing control of the car and crashing into Kyle Busch. Lets get one thing straight! Busch snarls to the cameras, when you rattle the bears cage, you get shit in your eye! If were going to be on the same team, that pizza-flipping little punk has got to learn whos #1, and his name is spelled K-Y-L-fuckin-E! For his part, Logano makes his feelings equally plain. I want my mommy, he wails. Teresa Earnhardt has to be kept from rushing to him.
November 16, Homestead: Finally, to everyones vast relief, the NASCAR All-Consuming Cellular Conglomerate Series draws to a close here in South Florida. Its been a wild ride, admits Mike Helton, in what is a strong candidate for Understatement of the Year. A lot has changed since February. Rick Hendrick, who vowed to stand behind Casey Mears, his underperforming fourth driver, and do what it takes to give him what he needs, now cant seem to remember his name. Mark Martin, the driver of that car for the next two years, has all but moved into the Hendrick shop in Charlotte, and is seen hanging out with the Hendrick gang whenever his schedule permits. Dario Franchitti is now a footnote in the NASCAR encyclopedia, and no one is pretending to be surprised anymore. Tony Stewarts season has been cut short by his recent nervous breakdown. Carl Edwards and Kyle Busch, once thought to be the only two Chase contenders, are both out of the hunt, thanks in part to the inversion, which Brian France still insists was a good idea. Everyone gathers for one last hurrah at Homestead-Miami Speedway. But not before Brian France has one last bomb to drop. Next year, were going to have another name change! he announces gleefully, as the reporters let out a collective groan. In 2009, itll be known as the Ever-Merging Telecommunications Giant Cup! The EMT-Giant Cup for short! Doesnt that roll off the tongue better? And get this: the trophy will be shaped like a cell phone! The applause is anemic, at best. The race itself is a fiasco, thanks to another cutting-edge innovation in tires, courtesy of Goodyear. We thought we had a great new tire composition worked out that was just perfect for the unique climate of Homestead, and which could be used when NASCAR expands into Latin America, a Goodyear spokesman says, before the green flag waves. You can take this tire to the heart of the Amazon and itll hold up! Except it doesnt. NASCAR elects to throw the caution flag every ten laps, and enough tires are used to keep the entire city of Akron flush with cash for the next three years. At the end of the race, the winner of the 2008 All-Consuming Cellular Conglomerate Cup has been crowned: Dale Earnhardt, Jr. The Junior Nation riots in ecstasy, resulting in $200,000 in damage to the track facilities, as well as multiple injuries and arrests. They immediately begin singing the praises of the inversion. Kyle Busch throws himself on the start/finish line in a full-fledged tantrum, until he is hauled up by Mike Helton, who warns, You better straighten up and fly right, partner, or youll wind up in the same rubber room as that nutcase Tony Stewart! Jesus, Joe, where do you get these guys?
See you next year in Daytona!
Todays inspirational song lyrics are brought to us by Ratt:
Round and round, with love well find a way, just give it time
