The critique is frequently made that today’s NASCAR races — and today’s NASCAR drivers — just ain’t what they used to be.

The races are fuel economy runs decided on a laptop computer...the drivers (Dale, Jr. and Smoke excepted) are corporate clones...the tracks (Talladega and Bristol excepted) are mile-and-a-half cookie cutters...so goes the beat on Internet message boards and satellite radio talk shows.

Where, we are asked, is the spirit of Cale and Bobby and Donnie settling things mano a mano on the turn-three grass at Daytona? Where is the rubbin’ and racin’ that The King and The Silver Fox carried across the Southeastern bullrings? Where are the real race cars, the real men who drove them, and the real tracks they raced on?

Maybe the tectonic plates are moving under the Northeastern corner of the continent, or maybe there’s an element of the unpredictable that shows itself when the teams are turned loose in uncommon surroundings. In other words, maybe the road courses are the bullrings of today.

Well, friends, the stars of the 1970s are retired and neither the Hemi-powered Dodge Charger, nor the Boss 429 Mercury Cyclone is coming back. But in the last two weeks, we’ve seen some hard racing and some unscripted displays of emotion in two NASCAR races from road courses in Quebec and New York.

Maybe the tectonic plates are moving under the Northeastern corner of the continent, or maybe there’s an element of the unpredictable that shows itself when the teams are turned loose in uncommon surroundings. In other words, maybe the road courses are the bullrings of today.

I’m not advocating drivers ignoring official directives and the safety of their fellow competitors to restart wherever they please, or stealing the winner’s stage to do a protest burnout. Neither am I suggesting that every on-track tangle should end in physical confrontation. But we’ve seen enough of a throwback to that golden era that exists in the mind, whether it even really existed on the track, to take a closer look.

As noted above, the key in my opinion to the entertainment value of the Busch Series race in Montreal and the Nextel Cup event at Watkins Glen Int’l is that unexpected things happened, the sort that make you want to stay tuned to your TV or glued to your grandstand seat to see how it all works out. With big screens now facing most grandstands at major tracks, you can do both.

On the Ile Notre Dame, it was a case of heroes and villains. In the end it was Robby Gordon wearing the black hat, but he could have changed that by making a couple of crucial choices. Plus, there’s always a segment of the audience that loves a bad boy.

At the Glen, the more meaningful story line than the Harvick-Montoya confrontation was the human frailty shown by Tony Stewart and Jeff Gordon, each of whom locked their rear brakes in the downhill braking zone for turn one while leading, sending the rear axle hopping and the car spinning.

Today’s NASCAR drivers are much better road racers than their predecessors. Gone are the days when Buddy Baker could quip that he raced at Riverside Int’l Raceway for five years before he realized the esses were paved. The equipment is better from top to bottom, and while road course aces like Boris Said, Ron Fellows and Patrick Carpentier will remain in demand, they no longer enjoy a marked advantage. Juan Pablo Montoya no longer attracts attention because he is a Formula One veteran or a native of Colombia. He attracts attention because he’s a hard-nosed racer who sometimes sticks that nose where it gets bent, not unlike Cale and Bobby and Donnie on turn-three grass at Daytona.

Whether today’s NASCAR road races are the spiritual evolution of the bullrings of yore can be debated. Clearly NASCAR racing in 2007 has been a hit at two North American shrines of Formula One, present (Montreal) and past (Watkins Glen). It might result in a fine and loss of points, but I’ll say it anyway — sacre bleu!