I saw Jesus and he was in turn 1 at Bristol Motor Speedway last Saturday night. At least I thought it was he or maybe it was she.
In fact, I think Spencer caught a glimpse on lap 21 and then took a hard one right into the wall. Next time, maybe he can get the deity to grab the catch can and sprinkle a little mojo in the fuel box. At least get him a car with a few more squirrels under the hood.
My first trip to Bristol was a life lesson from the minute I sucked in the fumes from all it's glory. People, food, sweat, beer, tarmac, smoke and unidentifiable aromas were with me around the clock. That's not a bad thing. It was the ramp up to a grandiose, bombastic climax of 500 laps under the lights. And, in a stadium that was on full tilt, would fit two super bowls' fans but wouldn't accommodate a small Cessna.
I couldn't have been more wide-eyed when Gordon dropped into turn one. God***n my heart was racin' and my ears were coming to life as the rainbow of colors was gone and back, gone and back, gone and back. All in 45 seconds…with 42 other grippin' madmen on the chase.
Here are some of my observations from the Sharpie 500 and the surface that Bruton built:
*Statt Mann's smile couldn't get any bigger. *People still use camera flashes for shots 100 feet away. *Cell phones should have better transmission so those two-thousand
miles away could get an earful of Bristol.
*Baseball was never Americas favorite past-time.
*There should be pure oxygen stands in the pits to take you even
*People are people…Bristol drivers are F'n Knievel’s steps-sons.
*Every human in the United States should have a free pass to stand
where I did for one lap…even F1 fans.
*Every U.S. Senator should stand in turn one with nothing but boxers.