Pocono. What a nice name. What nice scenery. That one straightaway with all those trees on the other side of the fence reminds me of the Daytona backstretch. Okay, one is forest, the other is pavement, but neither have a grandstand.
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.
All NASCAR had to do was follow their own rule on the overtime line as was written during the Coca-Cola Firecracker 250 NASCAR XFINITY Series race at Daytona International Speedway earlier this month and again during yesterday's Brickyard 400 at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, and all of this would've been avoided.
Kasey Kahne made a late green flag stop at the right time and survived a myriad of restarts as the sunlight waned to end a long winless drought with victory at The Brickyard.
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.
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.
It is ironic that the two tracks that feature folks turning to the right are in California and New York, where you would think left would be the preferred direction. Sonoma is the perfect venue to feature our hot drivers, with temperatures this week in the 90s, though promises to be in the low 80s come Sunday. It a facility well used, with 340 days of racing events featured annually.
