Motor Racing and how it Ruined The Western World

Lets face it, motor sport probably has the most elitist fans in the world. I don't mean that in a bad way, its just that each set of fans will stand up for their own particular discipline of motor sport with the sort of passionate fanboy-dom that is usually reserved for video game consoles and professional wrestling.

Moto GP and Superbike fans will mock those who take to four wheels, drag racers will argue their place atop of the hill due to their lightening quick reactions and rally drivers will consider themselves gods among men for their all terrain racing, despite the fact they never have to overtake anyone. Elsewhere, Formula One will continue to consider itself at the top of the world with a sense of elite pomp while touring car fans will argue that their rough and tumble variety of circuit racing is tops.

If you like this, chances are you also like prawn sandwiches

One thing, though, is true of pretty much all motor sport fans – they all dump on oval racing. Well, that is unless you are an oval fan to begin with, in which case you obviously think your discipline is tops.

I must admit, I used to be a part of the badwagon that jumped up and down at NASCAR and IndyCar saying that it isn't real racing as you don't turn right. “Oh no, he forgot to turn left!” I used to shout when they crashed, and I used to write oval racing off as boring. I was a true F1 and Touring Car fanboy, I was. Especially the not racing in the rain thing, that annoyed the hell out of me as the best F1 races are often in the wet.

Then, like most sports I'm not a huge fan of, I gave it a go. And I tell you what, it is awesome.

The Colleseum circa 2010

The racing and tempo is obviously a lot different to that of, say an F1 race. In Formula One, the lead may only change one or two times in a race and if you're lucky you might get one or two cars spin off innocently into a gravel trap. In NASCAR, however, you will see the lead change one or two times every ten minutes and seven or eight huge smashes are considered the bare minimum.

The main problem I think that a lot of trad circuit racing fans and oval fans have when trying to cross over to each others style of motor sport is that the philosophies are different. In F1, the aim of the race is to stay in complete control of your vehicle through a whole circuit, holding on to your own position while trying to catch the car in front. The emphasis is just as much on putting together a qualifying lap and nailing strategy as it is on getting your breaking and acceleration points right. Also, there is a huge emphasis on the car as a whole.

In NASCAR, it is proper mayhem, though. You get respites of yellow flag periods, where the race goes under safety car after a crash until the circuit is clear, but the rest of the time it is about running as close to the edge as you can get. You get packs of 40 plus cars all travelling around the 200mph mark, something that is impossible in any other discipline of racing, and then you see it all come to a pause when they crash into each other. Even the pit stops are so much cooler in NASCAR, to the point where the mechanics are often recruited out of college as athletes.

The long and short of this is just this – give other kinds of motor sport a chance. And if you like crashes, and frankly that is the only reason anyone ever watches motor sport, watch NASCAR and feel like a proper Roman.

If you don't know, the Daytona 500 is on Sunday. Check back here after the race for my thoughts. I'll be logging them.

From Cage Fighter to Ladyboy Lover in one fould swoop

Oh, you bastard computer, you tried to hide what I wrote on Sunday  but I found it! Hazar!

I love Red Top news papers. I love their 'tits and football' approach, I love the fact that according to them anyone who earns more than £25,000 a year is some sort of over paid bigot and I also love the fact and I love the fact that they over react to anything. I especially love the problem pages where people write in asking which of four people they slept with is their baby's father, as if Miriam or Deirdre are psychic. I don't care who you are, reading a Red Top paper is great fun.

At the moment, I'm loving the fun they are having with Katie 'Jordan' Price and Alex Reid. Now, for any of you who don't know who they are, then give them a quick Google. You'll soon find out. The long and short of it, though, is Jordan is a fame hungry glamour girl and Alex Reid is an unspectacular cage fighter she is dragging along for the ride.

Honestly, just read through The Mirror and The Sun's take on those two and you will get the picture of what I'm on about on the whole, but what I find absolutely hilarious is the way that Alex Reid has been described over the 7 odd months he has been in the tabloids.

To begin with, he was just a 'cage fighter', a nice fearsome manly description. Rawr. Then, however, as the press began to snoop around his past and dig up every last little bit of dirt on him, it started to get ridiculous.

First some paper found out from an ex girlfriend that was probably bribed with a page three shoot that he enjoyed cross dressing. Hey, it isn't my cup of tea but if you wish to indulge then fair play. Either way, he then became 'Cross Dressing Cage Figher Alex Reid'. And, oh, how we laughed.

Then came the real coup de grace, so to speak. Some alleged buddy of Reid's sold his story to the paper of how, on a training trip to Thailand to pick up some new kick ass martial arts skills, Reid got off with some ladyboy. Well, the floodgates truly opened then.

The point of this is simple – if you want to go from being a “Cage Fighter” and revered as the sort of man who wanted to be viewed by the general public as the kind of guy who fought bears to “Tranny Loving Cross Dresser” in one foul swoop, date a glamour girl. 

I hate you, you stupid bloody computer!

Oh, you think you're real smart, huh? Freezing just as I'm trying to save a blog update? You think you will make me write it all out again, do ya? Well no deal, buster. I'm just going to wing it.

Usually, whenever I update here, I'll write it in Open Office then just copy and paste it across. I'm weird like that, as despite the fact that Blogger gives me lots of nice tools to play with here, I'll entrust my computer with the data first. Today, that turned out to be one big royal fucking mistake.

I admit it, maybe I should have saved it more often. Maybe I shouldn't have written a page and a half before hitting Ctrl + S. Maybe I should have saved it as soon as I opened it. After all, as my old music tech teacher used to preach to us, 'Jesus Saves'. Oh well, it doesn't really matter. You've been toying with me all week, you dumb computer, running like mud. Then when I try to de-frag you, you tell me nothing is wrong and everything is hunky dory. You tell me that you haven't got a care in the world and everything is just a-okay.

I don't care. I will take you a fucking part if you test me again, you hear me? I know you can hear me, Mr Computer, and I know you are reading everything I'm typing! Mark my words, buddy, I know where you sleep and I will put you in the bath tub if you do that again!

TL:DR - My computer is a bastard.

P.S. SUPER BOWL SUPER BOWL SUPER BOWL SUPER BOWL SUPER BOWL