My plan was to let my digital recording service handle tonight’s NASCAR Sprint Cup race from Chicago. I’m at Las Vegas Motor Speedway for a night of drifting and sport compact drag racing.
Well, I found a TV in the dragstrip control tower with DirectTV, so I was able to watch the last 30 laps of the Sprint Cup race.
And I watched Kyle Busch win again, thanks to a restart with two laps left. His daring move, going to the outside to pass Jimmie Johnson for his seventh win of the Cup season, continued to set him apart from the field.
When I watched a 16-year-old Kyle win at the LVMS Bullring in Late Models, his critics gave credit to the well-financed team of Southern Nevada’s Jerry Spilsbury. It had to be the car, many said.
But this year alone, Kyle has won for one team in the NASCAR Craftsman Truck Series, two teams in the Nationwide Series and for Joe Gibbs Racing in the Sprint Cup Series.
Bottom line is that, yes, he has good equipment, but it wasn’t the car, crew chief or owner slamming the winning move on two-time reigning Cup champ Johnson.
Kyle is simply the best driver in the country right now. Period.
BACK TO THE DRIFTERS … AND NOT THE ONES WHO SING
Kids hold doors for me now. They tend to call me sir.
It’s not out of respect, it’s just that I’m bald and gray.
I say, “Thanks, man,” trying to show I’m really cool, dude.
I never feel older than the two days each July I spend at Las Vegas Motor Speedway for drifting and sport compact drag racing.
That’s where I am tonight, sitting in the dragstrip pressroom watching some four-cylinder cars pump out 1,000 horsepower and do burnouts with their front tires.
They tend to blow up too much, but it’s amazing how they hit 180 mph.
I’m mainly here for Formula Drift.
Car drifting is entertaining. Very entertaining. The speedway creates a drift circuit in the pit area of the dragstrip. There will be a car show with around 150 cars, and nearly all are sport compacts. And about 8,000 fans are here.
The crowd’s average age is low- to mid-20s. A lot of tattoos and piercings. To fit in, I’ve drawn an oriental design on my head with a Sharpie. Hope it washes off before I go into the office Monday.
It’s the kind of crowd that when I see a good-looking girl, I want to introduce myself and ask for her mother’s phone number. Or perhaps more appropriately, her grandmother’s.