July 14, 2007
By Andrew Brookman

Let me start this one off right. I’m a 33 year old male, native Hoosier transplanted to the heart of NASCAR country. As race fans go I’ve always tried to stay loyal while trying to think smart for any debate. I don’t know that there are too many more places where the dirt flies as free as the Midwest, and I’ve grown up with a need for speed. Like my Father snatchin’ gears to good music, being the one guy of the group that could really make a split second decision and pull off pretty much anything in a fast car without looking ridiculous. Well, at one time I knew that, because now I am just too settled down.

Rest assured that sentiment you utter in your heart or stand tall and howl about -- is true, these guys are race car drivers, not polo players or synchronized swimmers. They are indeed America’s finest addicts of the M.P.H., and somewhere inside them is a reoccurring dream. A dream of tearing down the strip or backstretch sharper and faster then anybody has ever seen. Perhaps a dream that once included their Dad sitting in the stand, or a girl they would fight for. Somebody in that crowd in that dream, that they needed to show the internal fortitude to be the best at something most others couldn’t handle.

For each I’m sure the dream has different scenarios, but somehow I feel in my heart each of these guys has had the dream a long time. It’s more then a dream of just going fast and the wind passing through their hair. This isn’t to be confused with the average adrenaline junky, but adrenaline certainly plays part in the equation. This is steel, asphalt and speed -- and somebody has to be the best. That’s where the dream seems to grow into that of a Champion.

I wouldn’t know much more than the primary parts of this feeling, I’m no Champion. I’m a retired Medic that found his calling in lights and sirens, compassion and courage to walk into any situation ready to change the outcome. Though I do know I too once would have loved to live that dream of speed. Perhaps a dozen laps just to pass the best guy on the track once, while in my head some intense rock song of from my lineage is being heard by everyone perfectly in sync with my sweet pass. Yes, crazy perhaps. A dream indeed. The dream of somebody that aims to be the best or at least do the best he or she can. It’s not that uncommon. Is it?

Some of us are granted that dream through hard work while others work hard elsewhere. This year in NASCAR seems to be the coming around again of those feelings and dreams at their fullest. Reminders of what the true meaning of racing is to every driver, team and fan watching. Whether it is Stewart calling Gilliland an idiot at Michigan or Kurt Busch slammin’ into Stewart in the pits at Dover and the rubs they’ve shared all season long. There is something in the air this year, and it’s been there all along in racing. And even though a lot more in NASCAR, it isn’t quite exclusive.

If you look not to far up the road you’ll see Sam Hornish Jr. and Tony Kanaan have at it in the IRL, and Danica Patrick certainly didn’t resemble any kind of “cheesecake” when she confronted Dan Wheldon in Milwaukee. These are the goings on in racing weekly wherever you may roam.

This year has brought out the strongest of words and actions in years, but not for the first time. Anyone familiar with the ’79 Daytona 500 will recall Cale Yarborough and the Allison brothers in Turn 3, Bobby and Cale having a romp while Donnie climbed from the car. A race that many believe started it all.

Is Tony right when he blames Denny this past week? Should he take the blame in part as well? That all depends on whose fan you are I suppose. And as I come across posts on various sites, the blogs seem to show a lot of dismay among those of us who shine the spotlight on both Tony and Denny. It would be nice to think that the coming Chicago race would put all this behind us, but this year is all too adrenaline charged. No matter what direction you turn somebody is saying something on a radio or one fan debating the other.

This is NASCAR. A series the best from all over come to race in week after week. With dirt running through many veins, and much of the dirt swept out of some, a few seem to long for the dream they once had. A few seem to need to stand up and let the true nature of their being come out. A year where mid-pack runners are winning and seeing the front more often then they ever had before, could it be just another side effect of the greater diagnoses that will be given by many at this years end? Is it the Car of Tomorrow or the stress in the garage? Nobody up front seems to be enduring extreme failure or falling back to last in series points, so why?

This isn’t a year of cheaters or bullies, or the year of run-away finishes. This is the year the soul of racing assures us that it’s still emblazoned in the track. Despite the fancy or the new, despite all the big paychecks or technology -- We will want for the gentlemen drivers and underdogs with a bit more hope, while we pull inside with gusto for passion and emotion.

Take a look around you, NASCAR is alive and growing in the United States of America.

The thoughts and ideas expressed by this writer or any other writer on Insider Racing News, are not necessarily the views of the staff and/or management of IRN.