I’m excited for the Daytona 500.
You probably guessed this from the title of the post, but in case you thought I didn’t mean it: I mean it. I’m excited.
I first watched the Daytona 500 back in 2007. I was in seventh grade, and my parents a few years earlier had gotten me a subscription to ESPN the Magazine for Christmas. I could be wrong on all of this, but I think ESPN had signed a new deal to broadcast NASCAR, and on the heels of Talladega Nights I think they were using the magazine to tout it as a growing sport in popularity, which in hindsight feels false at worst, and depressingly ironic at best, given all that’s befallen NASCAR in these last twelve years, through the recession and just dwindling attention in general.
Anyway, I watched that Daytona 500, and I loved it. Some of my family even ended up watching the ending, which was a wild finish most memorable for Kevin Harvick beating Mark Martin by two hundredths of a second in what’s effectively overtime, as well as some car getting forced down Pit Row on one of the final laps, but going down it at top speed and then plowing straight into some other drivers going two or three wide when he reconnected with the track.
I came away mildly hooked on NASCAR. I watched races into the summer, and while my interest faded out that fall, with playoff baseball and three kinds of football to follow (I was in eighth grade by then, so high school football was still a big deal to me), I’ve always kept tabs on NASCAR since, at least from afar.
I don’t want NASCAR to die, and I’m fearful it will, or that it’ll become so unrecognizable it doesn’t feel like NASCAR even to me, a guy who’s watched an average of two races a year over the last twelve seasons. But I have no factually based reason to fear that—no data or anything. Just perception.
I don’t want NASCAR to die because it’s unique, and because it’s an American institution—I’d hope we can all agree that anything with its roots in moonshiners souping up their cars to outrun the cops during prohibition is worth keeping around. I understand why some folks don’t like it, and I’m not saying you should follow NASCAR’s season start-to-finish. I never really have.
What I would say is that if you’ve never watched the Daytona 500 before, you owe yourself to at least give it a shot.
It’s the biggest race of the season, which is disappointing to some because it starts off the NASCAR season, making NASCAR vastly different from any other sport, where, as logic would dictate, the biggest event comes at season’s end. It’s also one of the most exciting races, because Daytona is a big track (very technical term there on my part), which, for reasons related to physics and automobile mechanics, leads to drama—close finishes, tight passes, and, of course, crashes, which I’d opine it’s acceptable to find entertaining, provided there aren’t deaths or serious injuries. Yes, deaths or serious injuries still could happen, I’d guess, regardless of how safe NASCAR has made itself since Dale Earnhardt’s tragic demise, which makes glorifying crashes tricky. But, as someone who was once a six-year-old boy, I don’t think it’s possible to not be excited by stock cars piling into one another, launching one another into the air, and occasionally even catching fire. It’s human nature to be excited by these things, and to spin it, let’s just say it gets more exciting every time people don’t die.
Because the Daytona 500 is the biggest race of the season, you don’t have to watch any more NASCAR this year if you don’t want to (though you might, if you find you like it). There’s also no need for prior knowledge—the race is its own event, and there is nothing more at stake than winning it. There aren’t standings yet, and we’re so far away from standings mattering that the race is happening in its own universe. It’s more like the Kentucky Derby than Opening Day. The commentators have enough time in the dead space to explain what’s going on, but really, all you need to know is that whoever finishes first wins, and that winning the Daytona 500 is one of the best moments of that person’s life. It’s simple. It’s easy. It’s dramatic. It requires no emotional commitment. You get to see someone at the peak of their time on Earth.
If I’ve convinced you by now to watch, here are a few tips on how to do so, slash things you should know:
- Dale Earnhardt Jr. retired (also has a book out I’ve been meaning to read).
- Jeff Gordon also retired (unsure if he has a book out but frankly, while he seems really cool, his story doesn’t seem as book-worthy as that of Dale Earnhardt Jr.).
- Tony Stewart, I’m pretty sure, is also retired (less name recognition than Dale Jr. or Jeff Gordon, but thought you might know of him—I think he’s still involved as an owner or something, but I also could see him deciding to come out of retirement a bunch of times, so I might be wrong on this).
- It’s ok to do something else while having it on. Don’t pressure yourself into feeling like you have to follow it extremely closely. You’ll get sucked in by the big moments if you put yourself in front of the TV. Scroll through Twitter. Click on these blog posts hundreds of times. Court advertisers on our behalf.
- Moonshine is sold legally in all fifty states (though not always on Sundays), despite the assumptions of a Minneapolis liquor store clerk in a vest and tie who scoffed at me in 2017 and told me to “try Wisconsin.”
- Be careful about getting attached to a driver—a few of them are jerks. Betting on one, though, or picking a few randomly to support, is not a bad idea to get yourself invested. Also, you can support a heel—no shame in that. Just wanted to warn you that if you get overly attached to someone, you might feel silly if you find out you don’t like them (that’s kind of happened to me a few times). Personally, I’m trying out Ryan Blaney this year. I like his Twitter presence, and I don’t think anyone hates him, and he’s decent but not great, meaning I don’t feel like a fair-weather fan. In case he wins, let the record show I decided to support him prior to him winning the Daytona 500.
- You’re watching something everyone should watch once in their life. It’s kind of like seeing the Empire State Building. Regardless of how much you like it, this is a unique, very American, event. If you aren’t enjoying it, try thinking of it as a museum to this piece of culture. Also, if you suspect you might be bigoted against lower-income rural Americans (it’s ok, we can be open about our biases here), you’ll feel better about that bigotry by watching something enjoyed by the stereotype of those people.
That’s all I’ve got. Time to brush my teeth and go worship the Lord before an afternoon of NASCAR. See you there.
