Okay, the biggest story from Indianapolis was not Kasey Kahne’s win. It was not the fact he has received no assurances that he will keep his spot with Rick Hendrick’s stable next season. The one thing we might be assured of is that whoever sits in the No. 5 next year, it sure in hell won’t be Justin Allgaier.
It rained. TSN (Canada) pulled out, and the channel I was recording the race on abandoned the effort, presenting instead a few toss away programs. Well, to be fair, I did state before that I do not get all that excited about Indianapolis, and it would seem TSN took my comments to heart. On Sunday, they made like the NASCAR Nazi...and no race for me. I guess I could have watched some soccer but, as most folks know, soccer is not really a sport. Not like poker is, anyway.
The most anticipated race of the week is not the one slated for Sunday in Indianapolis. Sure, the Brickyard has been around since 1909. Sure, it has been home to the Indianapolis 500 since 1911. Yes, it has hosted NASCAR’s Brickyard 400 since 1994, when Jeff Gordon won his first of five at the iconic track.
The weather was nice this past weekend up in my neck of the woods. Sadly, I paid the price for a root canal. No sleep Friday night. Zip for Saturday night. Sunday? The feature race was from Loudon. However, just as I rarely hurt after a visit to the dentist, maybe Loudon would go against type and be just wonderful. A race for the ages. Damn it, I deserved it.
But did you know that the first race at New Hampshire was also Davey Allison’s final race? He finished third, behind Wallace and Mark Martin, scoring his sixth top five of ’93. The following day Allison lost his life in a helicopter crash at Talladega Superspeedway.
Loudon, New Hampshire is where they hand out a lobster to the winner. Okay, it is not as cool as Dover's Miles the Monster trophy, with a diecast of the winning car held aloft in its mighty hand. No grandfather clock like they award at Martinsville, or the six-shooters of Texas, and that sweet Les Paul guitar for races in Nashville. On the positive side, you can not eat any of those other awards.
Kentucky. I love Kentucky. It is the home of bourbon. It is where Daniel Boone killed himself a b’ar. It is where they run a pretty important horse derby every year. Of course, I pre-tape the thing to avoid the four hours of filler to get at the 3 minutes worth watching. I even once liked its Fried Chicken. Hell, I actually met Col. Sanders once, though I must say that I did not lick his fingers. Just saying.
Welcome to the Eeyore edition of the Hot 20. Last week, it was Daytona. That was the Happy Snoopy Dance version. This Saturday night, it is Kentucky. My level of excitement is slightly subdued.
