Ron Thornton

“I hate that I...” I love that phrase. It is the prelude to expressing some measure of regret for some on track transgression in the hopes that these mere words will make everything alright. For instance, "I hate that I got into Kurt [Busch] there at the end racing to the line.” So says Joey Logano after Busch got dumped on the final lap, crossing the line spinning backward in 23rd place Saturday night at Daytona.

We want drivers and fans to be safe. We want action that is anything but safe. It might sound hypocritical, but deep in our hearts, we know it to be true.

Frodo and Sam live. Shane kills the bad men. Cinderella gets the slipper and the fella. Tony Stewart wins at Sonoma. It was a fairytale end to the action, but on that last lap it looked like Cujo was going to win the day and break our hearts.

It is not always just about NASCAR, as most of us got a chance to check out other things since the boys and girl last ran at Michigan. There was a basketball game in Cleveland I understand of some note. The NHL has an amateur draft this week and it seems you will have yet another reason to go to Las Vegas in the winter soon enough.

Michigan brought us tremendous action. I mean, how could it not? Brad Keselowski tested the new aero package and he was excited about it. In the end, even ole Brad led 10 laps, as did Martin Truex Jr. Chase Elliott led 35, while of the other 145 circuits, 138 of them saw Keselowski’s teammate, Joey Logano, on point.

A new aero package combined with reduced down and side force should mean more passing at Michigan this weekend, as well as at Kentucky later in the year. Wonderful, just wonderful. Now all that needs to happen is that it actually happens.

Weather forced a day delay at Pocono, and was it worth the wait? For me, it was, though I could not help but notice that it was a day too late for some who might have been in the grandstands. Soon, NASCAR will institute a dress code where fans must wear the same color as the seats in their section so everything will just blend in on television.

I have an admission to make. I am not all that excited about Pocono this weekend. I thought maybe it had something to do with just getting out of the wrong side of the bed, or that my transformation into a cantankerous old fart had finally reached its conclusion.

It was the year’s greatest race day, with three major events taking place. The Monaco Grand Prix, the Indianapolis 500, and the World 600 could have meant a lot of couch time, never mind the latest episode of Game of Thrones, but I try to exercise while gazing at the tube. I mean, those sandwiches were not going to make themselves.

Let me be clear. Any race format that artificially moves entries from behind to plop them up front is a dumb one. I do not care if it is NASCAR’s All-Star Race or one that allows me to charge ahead of the Kentucky Derby field while wearing sneakers and a propeller hat. Dumb is as dumb does.