Welcome, gay NASCAR fans! Everybody give it up for CARL EDWARDS because CARL EDWARDS is the THING, HONEY, I mean he is the ABSOLUT TOP OF THE T! Can you imagine? It's too much to even hope for, but girl if Carl wins the Cup, it is going to rock our world and make NASCAR 10 times bigger than the next thing, whatever that is!
Much as they had in Atlanta the week before, our guys showed out good in Texas. In addition to Carl the Winner, we had Mark Martin in 2nd after a super day, ditto for Casey Mears in 4th, Crown Prince Jr. in 8th, Elliott Sadler in 9th and Jamie McMurray bumping up on it in 11th. Way to race, dudes! Carl moved up one position and is now just 77 points out of 1st place! Mark also picked up one, while Ryan Newman (Bud pole winner sent to the back after a second-lap qualifying crash) lost two. Jamie is still in 11th place, 51 points ahead of Jeff.
Bringing the invocation Sunday was Dr. Roger Marsh of Texas Alliance Raceway Ministries. Sara Evans sang the National Anthem. Hasn't she already done it once this year? Does she know somebody, or what? They have not asked me yet, and I can sing, yes ma'am I can. Bush's government always lavishes the best on Texas, and Sunday was no exception -- the flyover was by a B-2 bomber!
Who's with who? Carl Edwards was with his mother, a blonde who looks fun. Jeff Gordon was with one of those model-types he goes for. Did you see that tabloid article that showed him kissing some babe's ass on the yacht? He looked pretty fun in that picture!
When the green flag unfurled, 190,000 waved the boys off! Matt Kenseth, who moved up to pole position when Ryan was sent to the back, led the early laps, while Jeff held strong at 2nd. Debris brought out the caution at lap 28.
Did y'all notice that Elliott was running with that awful Combos paint scheme this week? That is just foul. My friend Katherine said she started eating one of those one time but could not continue. Elliott's M&Ms and Pedigree Dog Food cars are so much cuter than that Combos mess.
Next we had a series of mishaps involving Greg Biffle, so many I could not document them all! Truly, as the saying goes, "Biffle got 'em." Mike Bliss got caught up in it this time. The #17 led some more, but then it was time for Casey! I still think the #41 would have had a better year if Casey had not gotten that awful old "mental patient" or "Roman soldier" type of haircut.
Matt continued on in 2nd, while Carl -- who had started 30th!!! -- was in 3rd! "Is the 99 really coming?" I asked my notebook, too afraid even to dream it! Next, we had a caution for debris. Mark took the lead on pit road. At lap 183, Carl was 2nd. Then, with a bracing joy you could feel right through your TV, the #99 went up high and sailed past the #6 Ford! And hey! Don't write off Brian Vickers, because he's on the march, coming to 5th now! The #99 and the #41 swapped leads -- either way, it's great for our team!
Then we had a spin by Ryan, who got loose on Turn 4 and ran off through the grass. Mark was first off pit road. But at lap 262 it was Brian's turn, and he showed Mark the ass of that #25 car! Carl passed Mark for 2nd. Biffle brought out the caution again, but this time the end was in sight, fuel-window-wise. Tony Stewart was first off pit road. Carl just zoomed past Matt for 3rd! Carl took 2nd!
Then we had a caution for debris, and Carl gave up the lead to pit after a last-minute swerve that would have had an SUV flipping non-stop for a week. He took two, came out in 6th, but went out there and dropped it in the slot, I mean right IN THE SLOT until he was up at Mark again, and then he was flying by Mark, clean, on the high side. And then we were all screaming, honey, just screaming! Can you imagine the terrific champion Carl would make! Win it all, Carl! Win it and save us from endless yammering about Hardware Store A or Hardware Store B!
WHO'S DRIVING WHAT NOW?
I have not been devoting a lot of space on the site to the "musical cars" story of drivers switching rides next year and beyond. (I could never compete with my colleague Mr. Jayski for that!) But it looks like some things are finally getting worked out for next year, so here goes:
Mark will be back in the #6, driving his 19th season. The next year, Todd Kluever will drive it. AAA will take over from Viagra as sponsor.
*Jamie will drive the #97 for Roush.
Kurt Busch will drive the #2 for Penske Racing South. (If Rusty and Mark had some kind of secret pact to retire at the same time, Mark sure is blowing off his part of the deal.)
Casey Mears will stay at Ganassi and drive the #42 Havoline Dodge that Jamie is giving up. Atlanta's own Reed Sorenson will drive the #41 Target Dodge that Casey is giving up. Thank you Target for always doing something extra for us queens.
Betty Jack's Book Review: SUNDAY MONEY
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When real track junkies hear the premise of Jeff MacGregor's "Sunday Money" -- set out with your partner in a motorhome to witness, in person, a whole season of Cup racing -- they go, "dude, I'm there!" For the fan, it's an irresistible idea. For Jeff and his wife -- the photographer Olya Evanitsky, who took the book's magnificent photos -- it was a chance to plunge headlong into the culture of NASCAR speedways and to ponder, in the Cup season that followed the nightmare of 9/11, some Big Picture questions about our national life.
Throughout the book's 48,000 miles on the road, Jeff dazzles us with tales of NASCAR, then and now. He's not afraid to be grand, boldly giving the history of NASCAR with Bill France cast as Moses, descending from the peaks of Mt. Sinai (the penthouse lounge at the Streamline Hotel) bearing the tablets (scribbled-on cocktail napkins) inscribed with the laws for a new way. Jeff's descriptions of the stuff he does along the way are compelling: We're right there with him learning to drive the motorhome (scary all the time, you never get used to it), then a Cup-style racecar (you crush your nuts climbing in, it's real scary at first, then a total blast). After his turn behind the Be Petty car's wheel, Olya kept insisting that Jeff "slow down" and "stop yelling."
Jeff includes in-depth profiles of Earnhardt Jr., Jeff Gordon and Tony Stewart, and his insights are enjoyable. But where he really shines is in capturing the experience of being at the speedway; the way it makes you feel. Indeed, this, not the races -- the track action at some Sunday events rates a scant paragraph -- is the purpose of the book.
As anyone who's ever been to even one race knows, speedways are the ne plus ultra venue for people watching. Look around in an afternoon, and you can expect to see not only the Good, the Bad and the Ugly, but also the Ugly's stumbling uncle, the Bad's adorable horndog college freshman nephew, and the Good's angelic, silver-haired daddy, joyfully feeding passers-by. In describing these people, Jeff soars. We meet a lonely, faded beauty trolling the garage who struggles to regain her dignity after being nearly knocked to the ground; a pair of hopeless, racist loners for whom a weekend of track camping on a pickup's bed is a welcome respite from ruined lives of long-gone women and long-lost jobs; and, most delightfully, four generations of Mississippi men dancing and singing around their Talladega campfire as they hand out fresh boiled shrimp to strangers and luxuriate in the bubbling-over ecstasy of the glorious moment.
A tighter editor might have pared down some bits: I could have done without the page of riffs on "a guy with hair that color might be the kind of guy who would...." And the account of the motorhome's terrible plumbing disaster might have been mercifully distilled to, "There was a terrible plumbing disaster with the motorhome, and I had to get cleaned up in the yard."
But a little over-writing is OK if you're really onto something, and Jeff is. He fully senses the epic nature of the journey he is on -- indeed, the odyssey takes place in a motorhome he and his wife named Homer. The knowledge of history and classical context that underlie his understanding of the trip are what make his observations so keen. You've gotta love a dude who casts his gaze back to ancient Troy and shows how Homer's account of a chariot race in the Iliad anticipates all the race writing that's happened since. Sunday Money is as much fun as a booze-filled trailer in Turn 2 on a perfect weekend! Go now, and buy it!
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That's all for now, kids. It's coming down to the stripe -- throw all your good vibes behind Carl Edwards! See you Sunday at Phoenix -- let's all meet up down at the Track Bar!
Love,
Betty Jack DeVine
E ME at Bettyjack@gaytona.com
