MPM2Nite: The Good, the Bad & the Ugly of NASCAR 2011 – The Good (Part I)
Let’s take a quick back look at some of the highlights, lowlights and abominations of this season’s NASCAR series.
Let’s take a quick back look at some of the highlights, lowlights and abominations of this season’s NASCAR series.
In every playoff, there can only be one winner. So how did the other 11 drivers wind up staring at the Homestead trophy instead of taking it?
Jeff Gordon’s fans can be a little testy. Who can blame them?
My initial thoughts Friday were that Kyle Busch’s punishment should have involved being lowered by fishing hooks through his scrotum into a vat of battery acid.
All of us have that half-formed memory of the first car we recall from our youth. Mine is Mom’s Rocket Car.
I’ve seen better races and worse races than Talladega on Sunday, but I simply can’t recall a single race that pissed more fans off.
Sometimes the magic was real and for three hours, 44 minutes and 20 seconds on Nov. 15, 1992, it took our collective breath away.
Little has been made of some potentially troubling developments that took place at Kansas long after most people had drifted off for an autumn’s afternoon nap.
Goodyear pays big bucks to be the exclusive tire supplier in NASCAR. Considering their past history, that’s probably for the best for our friends in Akron.
Somewhere along the line, there’s been a fundamental disconnect between the fans’ expectations and the pabulum we’re being force fed week after week.
I don’t want to listen to a pair of drivers sounding like my two youngest sisters squabbling over who had to sit in the puke seat back in the day.
There’s nothing like a week down the Jersey Shore to refresh an aging soul. Yeah, it was quite hot here in the Northeast while I was away, but generally along the shoreline it was pretty comfortable and if it got a bit hot there were always cans of liquid air conditioning at hand. The sand, the sea, the breezes and girls in their summer clothes. I had to come home, but I know I’ll be back next year and every year after that until I am too old and decrepit to carry a rolled up rice mat and a six pack cooler to the waterline.
It wasn’t that many years ago (OK, it was a few) the annual trek east to the Shore involved a complete disconnect from NASCAR and related news. Nowadays, everybody (except me) has some sort of portable digital device that retrieves information from the web with the alacrity of a Golden Retriever puppy sent after a tennis ball. Thus I was able to keep up with what was going on though whether that’s a blessing or a curse I don’t know.
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