A day at the races

I am not a typical sports fan. That is, I am not a fan of typical sports. I can always find something I'd rather be doing than watch basketball or hockey. Like staring at blank walls. I don't mind football, and I understand it reasonably well (marching band does that), but I'm never going to watch it of my own volition. I do like baseball, but I'm a Red Sox fan living in Yankees territory. It's better just to forget about it.

The sports I like take a little more explaining. I watch professional bull riding. I enjoy timber sports. And I love NASCAR. I started watching races with my dad when I was little. I rooted for Dale Earnhardt, not because he was good, but because he drove a yellow car at the time and it was easy for me to pick out going around the track. As silly as that may sound, it's a very practical way to choose a driver to follow, even if your age isn't in single digits.

amy_pearlman also grew up watching NASCAR with her dad, and when we realized our common interest, we set about converting many of our friends to our sport, instead of putting up with theirs. We even played fantasy NASCAR for a couple of years, although we aren't this year.

This year for Father's Day, Amy told her dad she would take him to a race. So, this past Sunday, she, Mr. G, blackfog and I loaded up the car and went to Delaware, to the Dover International Speedway, also known as the Monster Mile. ( For pictures of the Monster, and me, and the rest of the commentary, click here! )