I think the significance of midget racing is that it is unquestionably the best training for any type of racing you want to get into.
Midget racing trains you to get the feel of the car underneath you and to learn to drive by the seat of your pants, so to speak. You learn on a short track how to race wheel to wheel with other cars inches apart, and race against guys who are racing not for the money, but for the love of the sport.
Midgets teach you how to respect your equipment better than any other series, as mistakes can cause you to tear up your equipment or yourself very quickly. You learn how to drive on all different types of race tracks, with all different types of racing surfaces.  
Everyone remembers midgets as they grew up at so many tracks all over the country and the entertainment value they gave was so much more for the dollar than any other series. The grassroots racers who drive them come from all across the country and people could go down after the races and walk right up to the driver and talk with him. The midget race car is a huge part of the development of today’s drivers on their way to other series where the money might be better.

The cost of engines, tires, multi-car teams, travel expenses, hospitality and other experiences has all but excluded from the sport the very guy that midget racing was designed to help, the guy who built his own chassis, repaired his own cars, and drove them to the track on an open trailer like the one God intended man to use.

But to win in midgets consistently, you must have talent, as money doesn’t buy your way to the top as in so many other series.
Midget racing has taken a huge step backward. The big-money teams came in and upped the cost of everything to the point where guys who built the midgets to what they are today, such as the Kneppers down in the St. Louis area or any of many who did their own work on engines and cars, are slowly weeded out of winning races. More races are won with money than brains.
Engines that cost $35,000-$50,000 have hurt the sport, as well as the huge, obnoxious rigs that tow the cars from track to track. The day of the drivers going down the road together and sleeping in their vans are gone, and with it the camaraderie that went with it. The money is better today, but it is now more like a business than a labor of love.
The cost of engines, tires, multi-car teams, travel expenses, hospitality and other experiences has all but excluded from the sport the very guy that midget racing was designed to help, the guy who built his own chassis, repaired his own cars, and drove them to the track on an open trailer like the one God intended man to use.
The cars have little personality today and all look basically the same. The drivers are not able to have the fun after the races like in the past, as sponsors or development programs might frown on a guy who drinks a few beers after the race or has a good time at the local watering hole.
I think the closeness the drivers got from these times is gone and that was as big a part of midget racing to me as the actual racing.
So, give me an old stationwagon or van with an open trailer on the back carrying a car with narrow tires and a killer Sesco or Chevy 2 engine, a cooler of beer and $50 and I will be the one driving down the road with a big smile on my face.
Probably won’t still be able to pay the bills back home, but somehow I will figure a way to the next race.