a voice for the fans ~ Where's The love in nascar
6/14/2013
PattyKay
Lilley
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Preface: It is with a sad heart that I send thoughts and
prayers to the family and loved ones of Jason Leffler, lost far too soon in a
Sprint car racing accident at Bridgeport Speedway Wednesday evening. Jason was
known to my gentle readers of the day as "Chasin'
Laughter" in the time when my Lady in Black column made a regular
appearance after each race. Those that knew him will confirm that he was a
bright, cheery man, always ready with a joke or to flash that infectious smile.
May you rest in peace LEFturn, and may you keep God
smiling by giving Him yours.
In light of Jason's death, what follows may seem a bit
harsh, but though the racing family will be mostly about love in the wake of
the death of a racer, what you'll read here will hold true the other 51 weeks
of the year. In all honesty, though it won't be admitted now, many of you
probably had a word or two about Jason when he was first to start and park last
week at Pocono.
I bid you welcome gentle readers, and welcome as well to our assigned reader today in the Fan and Media Espionage center in Charlotte. This is a place where the fans can share their thoughts and ideas with NASCAR, the sanctioning body of our sport, and expect to be read. This week however, after conversations with several race fans and reading on several sites, I think we'll be turning that idea upside down. For the most part, I'll be talking to the fans, on behalf of NASCAR and myself. If you're a true race fan, you'll get what I'm about to say. If you don't understand, well...
I see that the site boss, Jim Fitzgerald, touched on this subject, but he limited his piece to "hating" a winner. Admittedly, that part has always been so. Everyone loves to see an underdog win. Witness the cheering for Front Row Motorsports when their cars finished 1-2 at Talladega, with a pair of Davids slaying an army of Goliaths to do so. That's the stuff dreams are made of. Ah, but I used a word there that I find far too abused, misused and overused these days; that word is "Hate", and it seems that those that aren't engaged in it are busy accusing others of doing so.
First, let me assure you that there are both things and people that I dislike, and I'm sure the same is true for everyone reading, but hate? Gentle readers, that is an extreme word... the direct opposite of or total absence of love. Hate is akin to damning someone to the flames of Hell, and should be reserved for only very special folks worthy of such intense emotion. Names such as Adolf Hitler or Saddam Hussein come to mind... men that have gone to such great lengths to earn hatred that it has become almost synonymous with their names. Now let me ask you... and I am serious as a heart attack here... whose name do you find in a discussion of NASCAR that brings forth that same bitter, acrid, intense emotion? I didn't think so.
Yet it seems that NASCAR "fans" have developed their own meaning for the word "Hate" and apply it quite liberally to almost anything or anyone. They form "Hate clubs", the latest of which targets 5-time Champion Jimmie Johnson, but rest easy Double J, they hate a lot of others as well. As much as these "fans" hate the winners, they also hate the losers, with start and park drivers catching a lot of flak for even entering a race. They hate Danica Patrick, I guess because she's female and they are not. (Take heart Honey; wait 'til your old and female. Then, you get twice the "hate.") They hate Mark Martin because he's old and "ought to retire." Never mind that he's still competitive, has a good ride and is having a great time. They hate the new kids such as Joey Logano and Ricky Stenhouse Jr. simply because they are young and a bit inexperienced. So, at one time, were men like Richard Petty and David Pearson.
Ford and Chevy owners (And Chrylser, when they were here) have always had at it over who was fastest on a given Sunday, but now they have Toyota to hate, and hate them they do. There isn't a NASCAR official today that isn't hated by a large number of "fans." Teams such as Hendrick, Gibbs and Roush are hated because they "have all the money" and are therefore considered evil. Small, struggling teams are hated because they are clogging up the track and somehow not allowing kids with real talent to shine at the Cup level. To that I say, "Come on in; the water's fine. Bring money!"
These "fans" even hate each other. The old hate the young... because they are young, and the young reciprocate in kind. Ford fans hate Chevy fans and Chevy fans are quick to return the favor. Of course, they all hate Toyota fans. After all, "them furriners" don't belong in "our" NASCAR. (And it doesn't matter that they, themselves, drive Hondas, Nissans, Subarus or Kias) Add to the list of those hated, names like Juan Pablo Montoya, Aric Almirola and Marcos Ambrose. "You're not from around here, are ya?" Are you beginning to sense a theme here?
Gentle readers, do you know where the word "Fan" comes from? It is merely a shortened form of the word "fanatic", meaning to exhibit extreme zeal or enthusiasm for the subject at hand. Can someone then explain to me how one can call himself a NASCAR "fan" and behave in a manner exactly opposite of what that word denotes? One simply cannot "hate" NASCAR and claim to be a "fan." As the techies say, "This does not compute." You are either a fan, and do not hate, or you are a hater, and not a fan. One cannot have it both ways.
"Fans" that throw things... cans, bottles, seat cushions and Lord knows what other debris onto a track or directly at a driver, deserve to be escorted bodily to the nearest jailhouse to enjoy at least a month's stay for their trouble. Little hate games like that can kill a driver, and if the word hate is to be believed, perhaps are intended to do so. These folks are not "fans." They are idiots, and I don't care one whit who does or doesn't like that word. It fits!
In the troubled world in which we live today, surely there is enough hatred to go around... despite our best efforts, we still have races hating other races, countries hating other countries and religions still hating other religions. Though we continue to pass toothless laws to the contrary, there is still vast discrimination against race, color, creed, age and gender... and all if it is hate-driven. Most who hate were raised that way and don't even know why they hate. They just do.
One might think that in such a world, sports would provide a welcome getaway from the harsh reality of life, but alas, that is not so. They come to the sporting arenas, armed, as it were, with things to aid in expressing their displeasure with the sport at hand, and this is not limited to NASCAR. We see the same debris on football fields, baseball diamonds and even hockey rinks, but no one in those sports is traveling 200 mph at the time. Fans? I don't think so!
Mr. France, Mr. Helton, Mr. Pemberton, Mr. Darby, and whoever else's desk this might reach, please take at least small comfort in the fact that we're not alone. All sports have idiots that call themselves "fans", with no real concept of what the word even means. I'd like you gentlemen to know that there are still those of us out here worthy of the title of "Fan." We come to the races or watch them on TV, not to express our hatred of all things NASCAR in the name of being a fan, but simply to enjoy the contest of speed known as racing. Please, keep doing what you're doing. The real fans know that without you, we'd have no racing to watch and we do appreciate you.
Race fans, if you want that title to reflect on you, it has to be earned. One cannot hate everything about the sport and be considered a fan. Remember that the next time that ugly little word, "hate", crosses your lips or is typed somewhere by your fingers. And you don't "hate" broccoli either. It might look funny, being green and all, and might even taste funny to you, but it's never done a thing to hurt you and you don't "hate" it. You simply don't care for it.
As some of you know, I'm older than dirt, having made my entrance into this world in the post-depression year of 1938. I was a child through the time of World War II and a teenager in the wonderful decade of the 1950s, when innocence still existed in America and we thrived on it. If the world was hate-filled back then, no one told us, so it didn't affect us. We weren't raised to hate, but to love. NASCAR was in its infancy in those times, and while exciting because of the danger involved, really no better or worse than what we have today; just different. The cars were different, the names were different and the tracks were different... smaller and mostly dirt back then.
Someone took a bit of affront to me saying that the "Good ol' days" weren't necessarily all that good. They are great to remember, but if you could go back, you'd really miss things like your microwave, and you'd dearly miss your AC in the summertime. On the tracks, you'd see a lot of drivers die before your eyes for lack of even seat belts, let alone HANS devices. Armco was never the equal of the SAFER barriers and fire prevention had not yet been invented. I prefer my drivers alive, thank you very much. Oh, and your TV would be in black and white, with the picture full of snow and ghosts. No HD to be had in the '50s, but then, the races weren't televised anyway. Looked at in that light, it kinda makes Larry and Darrell seem OK, doesn't it?
I have a little something to share in closing. This is for the oldsters that want to go back in time. My suggestion is to enjoy the visit, but don't forget to make the return trip. This world and this time is where you'll find your kids, grandkids and even great-grandkids. For the most part, they don't understand nostalgia; it's something that only comes with age. Our youth was fun, so be thankful that we got to live it... and that we survived it. Me? I'll be living in the world of today, telling racing stories of the world of yesterday, but mingling with the living... the young folks I came to tell my stories to. "If you don't tell them, who will?" Thanks DJ...
Be well gentle readers, and remember to keep smiling. It looks so good on you!
~
PattyKay
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