NASCAR Mania!

NASCAR RACING IN LOUDON, N.H.!

 

While New Hampshire may not have any big league pro sports teams, it does have the

New Hampshire Motor Speedway. And auto racing attracts more spectators than any other

sport in America. So twice a year, when NHMS hosts a NASCAR Sprint Cup event,

Loudon, N.H., becomes the Granite State’s version of Green Bay, Wisconsin—a small

community temporarily transformed by sport into a Major League City.

The stands in Loudon can accommodate around 110,000 fans, more than Fenway Park

and Gillette Stadium combined.  That’s Major League, baby!

The most recent example of this phenomenon occurred on July 14 when NHMS hosted

the NH 301, meaning that the 100,000 people traveling Rt. 106 to the Speedway included

 the likes of Jimmie Johnson,  Dale Earnhardt Jr., Jeff Gordon, Jeff Burton, and other top

drivers.

I mentioned the event to a friend visiting from California who’d never been to a race before.

“I am strenuously and morally opposed to NASCAR,” she replied with a wide smile,

hoping, perhaps to tweak my sportsman’s sensibilities.

 

Her “progressive leanings” apparently led her to believe that auto racing was too loud,

too fuel inefficient, too grandiose, too dangerous, and too male, among other things. 

But when I mentioned I had tickets and easy access to the track, she changed her tune. 

“Well, I was raised by an engineer/mechanic,” she explained.  “I had three older brothers,

and our nightly dinner table conversation revolved around cars and planes. Maybe I could

give it a chance.”

 

“Danica Patrick will be racing,” I replied. “She’s a girl!”

“Awesome!” said my feminist friend, whom I’ll forthwith refer to as Non-Danica.  “Let’s go!”

So Non-Danica and I made our way to the Magic Mile. She was quickly captivated by

the energy and all the people as we walked through the extensive concessions areas

before ascending into the stands where she was soon surrounded by around 100,000

of my amicable NASCAR friends. She struck up a conversation with a couple from

upstate New York sitting to our right and was given a quick primer on NASCAR, and

the joys of camping out in Winnebagos right next to the track.

Helicopters and planes circled overhead.

“Is this on TV?” queried Non-Danica, the Golden Stater.

“Yep. National television. TNT.”

 

As engines roared to life and revved in the pit areas, crews went through final checks,

their impact wrenches whirring and whizzing. Non-Danica’s enthusiasm mounted.  

Soon she was sending text messages and photos all over the country to friends and

family members.

“Wow!” she shouted.  “This is so exciting!”

Pre-race activities included a recognition of Granite State first-responders, a wonderful

rendition of our National Anthem by Miss New Hampshire, and an invocation from a

clergyman.

“Wow. I didn’t expect such a long prayer,” said Non-Danica.

 

“Hey, this is New Hampshire, not California,” I responded. “It’s NASCAR.  It’s Sunday. 

Live Free or Die!”

A giant bearded man wearing a biker shirt and carrying a large cooler soon settled in

front of us. He looked back and said “Who needs a beer?”

Then the race started and the roar of the engines of America’s top drivers drowned out

the public address announcer.

 

“Oh my gosh!” laughed Non-Danica, beverage in hand.  “This is so exciting! I’m

so ashamed that I like this so much!”

During the first yellow caution, when things quieted a bit, Non-Danica remarked that her

consciousness was suddenly flooded with those dinner-table car conversations between

her brothers and late father.  She also recalled that her attendance at the high school’s

 introductory auto-mechanics class was required before driving the family car.

“I want to know more about these cars, engines, tires, drivers, crews, and racing

strategies,” said Non-Danica. 

Next, Non-Danica wondered aloud whether car-racing was a sport, or something else. 

The debate as to whether or not NASCAR drivers are athletes will never end, but there

is no question that the race crews showed incredible teamwork, changing four tires

while re-fueling a car and sending it back out in less than 20 seconds.

Danica Patrick’s car was knocked out late in the race, which Tony Stewart led for over a

hundred laps. But with 12 laps to go, Brian Vickers took the lead and held on for an

emotional win.

Non-Danica was moved by the spectacle.  

 

“What a thrill,” she said. “The power, the speed, the crowd, the energy!”

I responded that NHMS would host another Sprint Cup event in September.

“There is something quintessentially American in all this,” observed Non-Danica, the

California Progressive and temporary NASCAR fan, who suddenly reminded me of

Diane, from the TV show Cheers.  “It’s a fascinating cultural study.” 

We stood and made our way down the stands, passing our new buddy, the giant

bearded man in the biker shirt, who again asked us if we needed any beer.

 

Non-Danica gave him a big smile, as did I.

 

Next mission: “Give Wal-Mart a chance!”