Jan. 30, 2008 - The Best Medicine

I love to laugh — always have.

I laugh at my own jokes — much to the amusement and/or annoyance of my friends. The other day, I snorted when a colleague said something funny. Then, I laughed harder because I thought the snorting was funny.

A few months ago, we were working along here, and a few minutes after the subject of “fainting goats” came up, I found myself in tears from laughing so hard at YouTube videos of them.

I got all that from my mother, who often still giggles like a schoolgirl. Laughter is good for the soul. It’s good for the digestive system. It’s good for the blood pressure.

Given all that, I don’t know how some people have lived so long.

Recently, a reader wrote a letter about Kasey Kahne’s altercation with a 60-something Homestead (Fla.) Speedway security guard. It dripped with sarcasm, and the theme was essentially that Kahne was a bit of an ass for allegedly pushing the elder security guard. The writer of the letter did not believe for a second that the elderly really deserve “a beat down,” but his sarcasm was not appreciated by some of our readers.

Then, there was the fallout, which I fully expected.

A long time ago, I learned that some people out there have had their senses of humor — or at least their abilities to grasp even the most blatant attempts at sarcasm — surgically removed.

Having been a fulltime sports columnist, I know firsthand that things said by a standup comedian that would have them rolling in the aisles often don’t translate into print. Many people simply can’t pick up the subtleties of the written word.

If you don’t believe me, try to make a joke in print about Bob Knight in Indiana. Even now, the name-calling and the threats will build to a crescendo in your e-mail’s inbox.

Here’s the thing, folks: We’re lucky enough to be working in life’s toy department. We share a passion for racing — and, in most cases, for sports in general.

Yes, sometimes it can be a serious, tragic business, but most days — even it’s biggest days — it’s just not the most serious thing going on in the world. A lot of people covering this sport, such as Robin Miller, myself and even Darrell Waltrip, get that.

When Waltrip says, “boogity, boogity,” which many race fans hate, at the beginning of each Fox race telecast, he’s basically saying, “Hey, let’s have some fun.”

That’s the way it ought to be. So, let’s laugh a little bit more — even at ourselves. Trust me, we’ll all feel better.

Jan. 23, 2007 - History Lessons

NASCAR’s media tour through the garages around Charlotte, N.C. is going on this week — an annual rite of January that reintroduces us to all the people we just left in November.

It’s usually a look ahead but this year the NASCAR hierarchy says that this very week marks the beginning of a future that will honor the past of the series as the Daytona 500 readies to turn 50.  NASCAR CEO Brian France says the series will stop its incessant tinkering with rules. The people who run his organization have been and will be listening to the fans instead of turning a deaf ear while chasing what I can only assume was world domination.

NASCAR has chased the beings and the dollars of the casual fan for the better part of the past decade, but in doing so it has alienated generations of those who supported the France family and the building of NASCAR before it got to Times Square, Hollywood Boulevard and all places in between. It has tweaked and circumvented rules for the betterment of sponsors, even if competition suffered. It introduced the Car of Tomorrow over strenuous objections from fans and some team owners, who say it will do little if anything to cut costs as intended.

The mega-teams of Rick Hendrick and Jack Roush now dominate the sport, while historic teams such as Robert Yates Racing and Morgan-McClure Motorsports have either been merged into larger organizations or have shut their doors completely. The price of competing has become too much for many teams and sponsors to handle. Long-time primary sponsors such as Interstate Batteries can now only afford a few races in a given season.

If NASCAR looks at its recent history, it will see the closing of North Wilkesboro (N.C.) Speedway in 1996 and the serious financial hardships the loss of its races have caused that town. It will see Rockingham's North Carolina Speedway, which was finally saved and reopened by former driver Andy Hillenburg, who is now considered a legitimate Tar Heel hero. Darlington Speedway lost its traditional Labor Day date and held on to its spring date by its fingernails — some say despite NASCAR’s better efforts to doom the race with a move to Mother’s Day weekend.

Meanwhile, NASCAR moved to cookie-cutter 1.5-mile ovals, one of which now routinely sits a little over half-full of fickle Southern California sports fans on race weekends.

And during a presentation on Tuesday, the NASCAR history buffs misspelled the name of Joe Lee Johnson, who won the inaugural World 600 in 1960, identifying him as Joe Lee Johnston.

In addition to learning how to spell Johnson’s name, it is hoped that NASCAR’s chiefs do listen to its die-hard fan base more closely — and more often. Sadly, none of that will bring races back to North Wilkesboro, Rockingham or Darlington, but maybe it will keep races in places such as Martinsville and Richmond.

Maybe qualifying won’t be a joke very much longer. Maybe a small race team might have a chance to be something more than a back marker sometime later on.

Maybe NASCAR is serious about not repeating history.

Jan. 16, 2008 - Lessons Learned From Dakar

Robby Gordon is — to borrow a phrase from my time in Indiana — honked off. Though I guess the only real surprise there is that it’s early January, about a month away from NASCAR’s Sprint Cup season opener at Daytona.

But like many Cup drivers — and more so than most — Gordon races away from the confines of NASCAR. He’s no Ken Schrader, but he gets around.

Part of Robby Gordon Motorsports is located in California and handles his off-road racing operation. If he could somehow squeeze in midgets or sprint cars and Indy cars among the Sprint and Nationwide series and the desert races, he surely would. But for now RGM concentrates on NASCAR and the off-road effort that has delivered victory on the Baja peninsula and he was sure would challenge and perhaps win at Dakar.

That is, if the Dakar Rally hadn’t been cancelled due to terrorist threats in an Al-Qaida-linked terrorist refuge called Mauritania.

And that’s why Gordon is upset, not because the rally was canceled as a safety precaution but because, after 29 years of running the Dakar Rally annually, the event’s organizers had no Plan B. A lot of vehicles built especially to survive Dakar might be obsolete by next year. Gordon figures that RGM alone lost about $4.5 million on the cancellation.

So, there was Gordon’s crew, lined up for technical inspection in Lisbon, Portugal on the eve of the rally — and suddenly there is nowhere to run.

“The thing I’m mad about is they didn’t have a back-up plan, and they didn’t give anybody an opportunity to even discuss a plan. They just came in and said, ‘Alright, the race is canceled.’ At the point they canceled the race, I had 40 people sitting in Lisbon, Portugal and 28 of them were going on the rally. We didn’t have flights for them. We didn’t have hotel rooms… They just completely threw a lot of people in awkward, awkward situations.”

It was unfortunate that the times we live in called for such a decision and that the future of one of motorsports's great events is now threatened. It would be more unfortunate if a lot of people had died at the hands of terrorism. It’s difficult to criticize officials for erring on the side of caution where terrorism is concerned, but Gordon does have valid points, which he often does if you get past the extraneous burnouts in Montreal and the occasional helmet toss here and there.

The lesson learned here is that all motorsports must realize that they are not insulated from the world in which we live. “Plan B,” as Gordon suggested, should be a part of protocol for an event such as the Dakar Rally in these uneasy times.

Jan. 9, 2008 - The Coach Is Back

The retirement of Joe Gibbs as head coach of the Washington Redskins is more of a career change than a retirement.

He’ll just be going from coach to referee as he tries to balance the often uneven temperaments of Tony Stewart, Denny Hamlin and Kyle Busch, who joined JGR in the off-season as driver of the No. 18. It may be more of a fulltime job than Gibbs has anticipated. Stewart and Hamlin began sniping at one another at Daytona last year, and, like Stewart, Busch can be as difficult as he is talented.

Whether as referee, coach or business executive, expect Gibbs, 67, to once again be the face and soul at JGR, jobs performed admirably by son, J.D. as general manager during his father’s absence. J.D. will continue as GM, and, word is, it will be business as usual, but Joe's voice will be heard when the rubber hits the road.

At his farewell press conference Tuesday in Washington, D.C., Gibbs referred to his “family business in North Carolina” as if it were a mom-and-pop store on the corner of Main Street in Mooresville.

But that little multi-million-dollar enterprise is the coach’s other life, the one he built for himself after he “retired” from the NFL and the Redskins the first time.

Gibbs is famous in NFL circles for being a work-a-holic, sleeping in his office most of the time during football season, going over film and game plans until the wee hours of the morning. Even Tuesday he alluded to the early-morning work hours and bedtime being signaled by the arrival of the garbage truck sometime after 3 a.m. All of that was done in the name of winning. He is just as competitive amidst the rumbling engines of NASCAR.

Part of the reason Gibbs retired again from the NFL is to be closer to his family as his grandson battles with leukemia (which is now thankfully in remission). That part is noble and true, but guys like him cannot simply hang out a “gone fishin’” sign and head out to the middle of Lake Norman. Expect Gibbs to reoccupy his office at JGR. Expect to see him at every race and most every test.

And expect Stewart, Hamlin and Busch to walk a little straighter than they might have otherwise.

Remember when Gibbs came down for a "heart-to-heart" with Stewart and Hamlin last season? I'm sure they do.

Make no mistake, the Coach is back.

Jan. 2, 2008 - Out With The Old...

My first year with National Speed Sport News came to a close this week. I began working here in April, so the racing season was already in full swing when I arrived.

I had to play catch-up, which I found to be rather difficult with everyone going 150 mph or more.

I grew up around the sport in the Upstate of South Carolina, but that was mostly dirt tracks — late models and such — and, of course, NASCAR. I passed James Hytlon’s garage on the way to school every morning. My father, who was in the racing equipment business for a while, took me there when I was a kid. Hylton and Bud Moore were more than just names on race cars, they were neighbors.

A stint as a columnist in Indianapolis opened the Indy-car world to me, and I quickly grew to love the Indy 500 and the easily accessible drivers and officials of the IRL.

But there was more to inundate myself with after arriving at NSSN — road racing (Grand Am and ALMS) and drag racing (NHRA and IHRA), modifieds and supermods, sprint cars and midgets.

And, of course, all of that stuff and more went on the newly launched NSSN Web site.

I will remember 2007 as the year Dale, Jr. left DEI and the year I arrived here.

Here’s hoping that both of us have learned something and do better in 2008.