Whose Shake Is This!!?

Why I have not shot myself in the head because Jimmie Johnson won his 2nd focking race in a row at Las Vegas last Sunday, is an utter and total mystery to me at moment, especially in light of the fact that none other than Jeff Gordon (yes THAT homo Jeff Gordon) pretty much said that Jimmie Johnson’s utter dominance of NASCAR is boring as focking hell. Not in those exact words mind you, but you can pretty much read between the lines. When even Jeff Gordon thinks his protege is boring as piss, what I’ve been saying about Jimmie Johnson all along has strayed from merely being my humble opinion to plain focking truth.

Evil mechanations of Chad Knaus.? Check! At Vegas, on the final pit stops, Knaus called for a 4 tire stop. Gordon’s crew chief Steve Latarte called for 2 tires to maintain track position.

Damned ability of Jimmie Johnson? Check! Johnson was able to cruise through the field and with 4 fresh tires, blasted by Gordon for the boring and tedious win.

It’s hard to hate Jimmie Johnson. It really is. He’s good guy. He’s honest, hard-working, straightforward, and exceedingly pleasant. He’s handsome, but not a pretty boy. He came up the ranks the hard way…paid his dues on 50 cc motorcycles, off-road racing, the local tracks, and ASA.  He’s the best focking driver in NASCAR. But….but…he bores the crap out of me. And not just me….even his fans are not as crazily enthused with him, as, for example, Junior’s fans are (obviously). Hell…Jeff Gordon’s fans are more passionate. Even Matt Kenseth sparks up more enthusiasm among his fan base.

So why have I not shot myself in the head yet?  Or hammered a wooden stake through my heart? As Jeff Gordon says, “I just think it depends on the rivalries and the stories…What we need is Kyle Busch and [Tony] Stewart to be butting heads, banging one another and talking trash. That would be good television.”

Wait. What?? Did I just actually quote Jeff Gordon?? Bring me that wooden stake and a ball-peen hammer….

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The racing season has finally begun!  I’ve been watching the Rolex 24 hours of Daytona and as I type this with about 2 hours and change to go,  the #9 Action Express Porsche Riley team with Mike Rockenfeller currently at helm has the lead over Chip Gannasi’s #01 BMW Riley by about 1 minute 22 seconds with Justin Wilson guiding the sled. It’s setting up to being an exciting finish for the race, that for me, always kicks off the Racing Season. The NASCAR darlings are mired deep in the field for the most part. The #02 Gannasi car guided by Juan Pablo Montoya , Jaime McMurray, Dario Franchitti & Scott Dixon is out of the race…they blew an engine shortly after midnight on Juan Pablo’s  watch. Jimmie Johnson the #99 GAISCO/Bob Stallings crew of Jimmy Vassar, Alex Gurney & John Fogarty are now 56 laps down essentially out of it.  A.J. Allmedinger and the $6 Michael Shank Ford Riley crew of Brian Frisselle,
Mark Patterson, & Michael Valiante are only a lap down and still have a shot at it….Allmendinger is the hammer for the team will take the checkers.

On the GT side. Bobby Labonte’s  #71 TRG Porsche GT3 crew somehow ran him out of gas and he actually had to be towed to the parking lot to get a splash of gas to get thim back to pit road.  Very odd, yes?  How could they let him run out of gas!? With Spencer Pumpelly at the wheel at the moment, they are currently 27 laps behind the current GT leader Nic Ham and the #70 Speedsource Mazda RX-8 team.

However, my enthusiasm is guarded and I’ll still not quite on board with the new NASCAR season just yet, even though Speedweeks is less than a week away. I haven’t resolved in my mind all the changes, both in terms of rules and team mergers. It think part of this also has to do with uncertainty over Matt Kenseth’s sponsorship for 2010. As soon as that gets resolved. I’ll most likely be all in.

But I did hear a rumour regarding some new Kenseth sponsorship last night….

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The countdown clocks are ticking, ticking, inexorably ticking. Countdown to Daytona 500. Countdown to Rolex 24 Hours of Daytona. Countdown to F1 Practice in Bahrain. Countdown to the F2 Race at Silverstone. Time is running out and there is no hope left of stopping it. No hope of turning it back to the beauty and wonder that once filled its days and hours to the brim. No time to catch a breath of innocence and wonder, no time to hold it’s contemplative silence gently in one’s hands or heart. The clocks are ticking and they will not stop. There is no hope left.

A year ago, the ticking of the clocks was music to my ears. This time of the year was a-swirl with excitement and anticipation. Each tick of the countdown clock was bringing me closer to the excitement and exhilaration of a new season of racing. I couldn’t wait for the clocks to tick down to the respective zeroes and bask in the hallucenogenic roar of the engines as my favourite drivers and teams raced off into the on-rushing year with hope and determination with an almost  psychedelic furor not to end until the final checkered flag is dropped at Homestead or Bahrain.

Now, in this terrible year of 2010, I’d like to stop all the clocks and chronometers. Not forever mind you. But for the moment. I’m not looking forward to anything or any of this and I’d like to stop the ticking ticking ticking for long enough to salvage some hope from what seems to be a hopeless world.

“And under the oppression of the silent fog

The tolling bell

Measures time not our time, rung by the unhurried

Ground swell, a time

Older than the time of chronometers, older

Than time counted by anxious worried women

Lying awake, calculating the future,

Trying to unweave, unwind, unravel

And piece together the past and the future,

Between midnight and dawn, when the past is all deception,

The future futureless, before the morning watch

When time stops and time is never ending;”

from “The Dry Salvages” by T.S. Eliot

Now don’t get me wrong. I want to feel this excitement again. I want to be looking forward to the new season of racing. But somehow, somewhy, I’m not. And I don’t know if it’s the racing and what it’s become, or me and what I’ve become, or both. But right now I want it all to stop so I can unweave, unwind, and unravel the mess that this has become.

Well, it’s hopeless I guess.  The clocks are ticking. Daytona 500 is 21 days and change as I write this. Rolex 24 hours is 6 days and  change. Bahrain is 46 days and change. Sao Paulo tees off on March 14th but IRL thankfully has no countdown clock. So you might as well join me. I have no choice in the matter. The clocks are ticking. So come along for the ride.

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