A long time ago in an interknit far, far away… I think I first ran across mentions of the Rowdy podcast on Jayski. They advertised on there and since I was an everyday user of Jayski’s NASCAR site, it had literally been branded into my head. We’re talking 2007. I remember going down to Homestead…
The King and I
41 years ago today, on July 1, 1979, I attended my first NASCAR event. It was qualifying day for the Firecracker 400 at Daytona International Speedway. I went with my father, who to be honest, was doing it to placate his 12 year old son’s obsession with racing, especially Richard Petty. Oh, how I adored…
The Green Challenge
You all know I am a big advocate for the idea of “green” racing, specifically, using racing as a platform to accellerate the various technologies that can help us live in real life more efficiently and intelligently. No matter your stance politically, the idea of an “Energy Technology” based economy may be one of the…
That’s How I Would Drive…
It’s not how Kyle Busch gives an interview, or comes across on television. It’s that I say to myself: “That is how I would drive a race car.” NOTE FROM 2020: This marks the day I became a Kyle Busch Fan!
Homestead Memories, Part 3
This is another repost from Rowdy.com, originally authored in 2007, centering on my memories of working at what is now the Homestead0Miami Speedway from 1995-1999. For this final installment, I figured I’d relay a little bit about some of the chance encounters and moments that I experienced from behind the scenes at Homestead-Miami Speedway between…
Homestead Memories Part 2: Of Tragedy & Triumph
I’ve attended several Daytona 500s, the World Series and even rushed the field after my team won the National Championship in college football. But none of them come close to the potent experience that was 1997 at the Homestead Motorsports Complex. It was one rollercoaster of emotion bookended by tragedy and triumph, experienced up close…
Homestead Memories, Part 1
I am the luckiest race fan in the world. At least that’s what I think when I look back at my time working at what is now called the Homestead-Miami Speedway. It’s lived under many names over the past 12 years; The Homestead Motorsports Complex, the Metro-Dade Homestead Motorsports Complex, the Miami-Dade Homestead Motorsports Complex,…
Fueling Innovation
So I have an idea. There are all kinds of caveats to it, asterisks and potential problems with it, but I want to share it anyway. Think of this as a big brush on canvas thing, where the devilish details still need to be fleshed out. I think NASCAR could use a good “fuel war”….
Crazy Like Evel Knievel Coming In To Land….
He is there, all brave on his bike at the end of 194th street. The run up to the ramp is, in retrospect, a bit long for the legs of a 8-year old. They will surely tire before he reaches the ramp, falling short of the maximum velocity necessary to complete the jump successfully. But he is brave. He is invincible He is Evel Knievel. Well, not really. He is me, George, circa 1974 or so. Like many kids with Huffy bikes, no PlayStation, and impressionable psyches, I am reenacting one of the many jumps of the iconic daredevil. This time, I really intend to jump far, not fake a crash like so many times before. I will touch the sky as I leap my bicycle over a ramp of plywood and milk crate, the world will slow down and Angie Dickinson will film me in all my glory. And therein lies the problem. Angie Dickinson, the buxom blonde bombshell of 1970s “Police Woman” fame, was there in 1967 when the real Evel bounced like a rag doll at the base of his landing ramp in the parking lot of Caesar’s Palace. She actually ran the camera. That famous footage of the real Evel breaking every bone in his body – that was her shaky camera work. A curse, the woman. She must of been there that day on 194th Street, because I developed one hell of a case of road rash in the ensuing moments. One second, a ramp in front of me. Then sky. Then road. Then pain. My dad cursed Evel that day as he bandaged my wounds. Thereafter, I was out of the daredevil business. I did however beg for (and receive) an Evel Kinevel Stunt Van for Christmas that year. My best Christmas present ever. Yes, EVER. So thanks for the memories, Robert Craig Knievel. The 8-year old in me will always find you a hero, and the adult will always have a scarred knee to remember you by…
Making a Case for #5
Ok Junior, your stepmonster did what we all thought she would do. No number 8 for you. I say don’t panic, don’t look back and take advantage of the opportunity that is in front of you. That begins with embracing the number 5. Now before you go and dismiss the idea, think about the upside….
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