Coca Cola 600 Part One

Okay, I'm going to commenting on the NASCAR Coca Cola 600 as it runs. I was originally given the wrong time for the race by a co-worker. I'll let her live. As of now there are scattered showers in North Carolina, where Lowe's Motor Speedway is located. It's 79 degress. It's a 600 mile race, which is mentally devastating. It's a mind-fuck, and every driver knows it. It's a race that differs from the chaos of Bristol and the high-speed terror of Talladega. This is a several hour bout of mental torture that saps the strength and will. This is NASCAR. You don't get a break, and you will feel those extra one hundred miles. Four and half hours (if you're lucky) of monster speeds and split second decisions. Make the wrong choice and at the very least you lose the race. Worst case scenario? You end up dead.

That's why I love this sport.

Every driver is being asked how they mentally and physically prepare for this race. The rain adds an extra element of surprise. Jimmie Johnson, who I don't like, agrees that these extra hundred miles "challenge" the mind. He's one of the best drivers on this track. He's considered one of NASCAR's finest. He's saying it's torture. You know he knows what he's talking about.

600 miles. Speeds most of you have never thought about reaching in a car. The average race is tough enough. This becomes a near impossible sporting event. When the winner gets out of his vehicle, he will be drained. He will thank his sponsors, crew, God. NASCAR drivers usually mean those thanks, but this is one time you can be positive they do. The trophy the driver will win will weight over 200 pounds. His arms won't want to lift it. They will be numb from four plus hours at the wheel, the muscles turned to jelly, the g-forces fucking with their internal organs. That trophy will be the last thing on their minds, but one lucky driver will lift it, and he will know how close he was to death every second of the way.

Many of my friends don't understand why I love NASCAR. I tell them to watch a Bristol or Talladega race to figure it out. Once they understand the sport better, I recommend they watch this one. The casual viewer or novice will never know why this race is so grueling. Will never understand what it means to cross the finish line in any position. After four hours of breathing in fuel fumes and burnt rubber, these drivers will understand what endurance really means. For the guys who have been doing this for years, they will be thankful. For those like Joey Logano, who is just 19, who have never run this race before ... well they'll wonder if they'll ever do it again.

That flag will be flying soon. Jeff Gordon, another driver I don't like, is first in points. Tony Stewart, who I do like, is second. This race could change everything, or nothing at all. One thing is for sure, this is a racer's race. This is where, as the song goes, the bullet hits the bone.