They call the Daytona 500 the Great American Race. I'm down with that. NASCAR is a purely American sport, and Daytona is its crown jewel as the first race of the season, the one everyone wants to win, and just a totally cool event.
But before I share my thoughts on today's race, I want you to watch a video. C'mon. It's only five minutes out of your life. And it will make you feel something about your fine country.
Click me.
Are you crying? Me too, and that's odd for me, because I'm a cold-hearted moose bastard. But hey, I love you guys, so let's cry together.
About that video, yeah. And also about the THREE FUCKING HOURS of mostly abject stupidity that led up to the green flag that started the Daytona 500.
Who the hell was that ugly bitch with the fat ass and the stringy badly colored hair that they had singing? She was more of a boner-killer than Rosie O'Donnell.
Some of the driver interviews were interesting. But some of them were just a lot of dick-sucking. All I wanted was to hear the magic words:
"Gentlemen, start your engines."
It was a hell of a race. None of that cars all bunched up and a caution flag every ten laps shit. And most of the wrecks that did happen only took out a car or two. (I still don't quite get why Kurt Busch ended up apoligizing to Tony Stewart, when Stewart was the one who got sideways in front of Busch, but whatever. Maybe he gets a boner when he apologizes to fat-faced jackasses.)
So, I was lovin' every minute of it, right up until the end. The race was red-flagged with five laps to go, which meant a green-white-checker finish. I don't much care for those anyway, but what happened during those two laps was beyond the pale. (I'm not real sure what "beyond the pale" is actually supposed to mean, but whatever it is, it sounds really really bad.)
Mark Martin was leading, Kevin Harvick was trying to make his move, and then all hell broke loose. Baby Brother Busch wrecked, and it started a chain reaction of other wrecks, involving a bunch of cars.
And the caution never came out.
Let me repeat that for emphasis. Cars were doing a serious smash-up derby, including one that was UPSIDE-DOWN AND ON FIRE, and there was no caution flag.
Harvick edged Martin by a nose. Congrats, Kevin, but you know you didn't really win that race. Mark Martin did, if NASCAR would have just followed their own fucking rules.
Yeah, yellow flag finishes suck harder than a desperate hooker. But with everyone still racing full-bore in the middle of a huge wreck, someone could have gotten seriously hurt. Picture Clint Bowyer, inverted, flaming, and getting T-boned. The only reason that didn't happen is sheer blind luck.
So hey there, NASCAR, this moose wants you to hear something loud and clear. Give me a suck-ass yellow flag finish over that cluster-fuck any day.
Still, I love ya, NASCAR, and I love your crown jewel of a race. Makes me proud to be an American moose, no matter how bad you guys fuck up sometimes.
Still, your sport needs some fixing, and you know it. Feel free to call me if you need any pointers about how to do that. After all, I do have all the answers.
Let's end this with a shout out to the bravest Americans. No, not NASCAR drivers, but the men and women in the military. The ones in that tear-jerking video. I do remember you, and I do love you.
And anyone who's laughing at the soft and squishy moose right now can just bite my ass.
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