Ron Thornton

LEADERSHIP...sucks. Usually, when you lead a race, when you are the guy kicking ass and taking names, it is a good thing. Not at Phoenix. It turned out to be steering the leading car was very similar to being the moral compass on the Walking Dead. You just wind up being some zombie’s souffle.

If NASCAR was a certain 1977 hit movie, you could say that Sheriff Buford T. Justice finally got his hands on the Bandit. It might not have derailed the adventure, but there is a danger the Snowman might not be able to deliver that truckload of suds to their destination on time.

After Texas, then there were two locked into Homestead. One stole the show at Martinsville and then attempted to deny the second his ticket. Joey Logano failed to pull it off as he wound up third. Ryan Blaney had something to showcase and he had his moments. Not enough of them, as he had to settle for second.

We have our Big Four. Finally. Joey Logano will join Kyle Busch, Kevin Harvick, and Martin Truex Jr. racing for the championship at Homestead. That is, unless someone takes one of those spots away either this weekend or next.

We are down to a game of musical chairs. Four spots, with eight drivers who very much want one of them. Let me just say that musical chairs sucks. When you are a reserved fat kid, the more athletic aggressive lads are going to go after those seats hard. Also, you will never be a hero dropping a young lady on her ass. Fortunately for the gents at Martinsville on Sunday, not a young lady to be found. No fat kids, either, come to think of it.

Then there were eight, as the surviving championship contenders take to the track this weekend at Martinsville. It is damn near over, but that overweight soprano has yet to warble, so we have a few notes to wait for between now and Homestead.

It might have been Kansas, but the action was a whole lot like a Las Vegas slot machine. Gold bar. Gold bar. Grapes. Dammit! Take Kevin Harvick, for example. He was second best on the opening stage. He was the best in the second stage. He was dominating the third stage, at least until he went speeding on pit road. Dammit!

Talladega was a ratings bust. Talladega. For fans who follow the sport, those four Stewart-Haas cars up front, doing what they had to do all day long, was something to behold. For those who simply tune in to watch incredible action, they had to wait for the final 20 laps for the payoff. However, they had to have tuned in to witness either. They did not even bother. That is troublesome.

If only I could time travel. Going back a few days, I could have been able to pin-point exactly what one needed to do to win at Talladega on Sunday.

Flying around in aircraft formation inches apart at 200 mph. That would be good enough to force me into the Depends, especially if I were in the passenger seat. It is a track that causes skid marks to appear everywhere.