*Note:This is my first article inspired by my response to M Brian Ladner's writing titled "NASCAR and Its Fans: Are You Questioning My Fanhood?!". A good little sociological analysis of NASCAR fans and their driver bashing ways.*
There is no doubt that the world of sports inspires some of the most passionate responses in its fans. People will hoot, clap, stomp, whistle, laugh, cry, spit, and curse all over the actions of athletes at work. I'm almost sure more prayers have been breathlessly heaped on that proverbial hail mary pass, than for all the starving kids in Africa.
Such a silly thing when we look at it, really. But I'm not really talking on fandom in general, my focus is on the NASCAR fan. Fans who like to bash other fan's drivers...for sport.
Look around on the Internet and you're likely to find plenty of colorful commentary (standard chat room flame wars aside). Visit the track and your certain to find plenty of jeers.
Heck, all you really need are two loud mouthed fans of opposing drivers sitting in a single room, with the race on the TV and beer in the fridge, and you are good to go.
It can seem a little rough for the un-initiated, so for those who think that life should be rosy, and nary a bad word should be said about anybody's favorite driver, allow me to introduce you to Talmadge.
Now Talmadge is a "bandwagoner" if ever one existed. He's been with the sport so long, he has seen Daytona races on the beach. Talmadge has gone through enough favorite drivers to fill eight hall of fame inductions. His current favorites are Jeff Gordon and Jimmie Johnson, simply because they win.
Not that it saves even them mind you, Talmadge's latest tirade is that he is walking to Atlanta to park on the infield and personally kick Gordon's butt for all the "sweet talking" he was doing about Kyle Busch at Las Vegas.
Nope, Talmadge is in it for the sport of bashing your favorite driver, even if your favorite driver is HIS favorite driver, then his favorite driver doesn't deserve you as a fan.
Such is the life of our weekly pool, with a cast of characters who love to watch the races on Sunday and talk crap over coffee on Monday morning.
Add to this mix my Dad, the die hard Dale Earnhardt Sr. fan since the 80's who wears nothing but No. 18 gear nowadays; Paul who holds a love of all things Dodge; Sheralyn who pulls for Carl because of his "physicality"; Allen with "my man Tony!!" ; and Randy, our obligatory Dale Earnhardt Jr. fan who sees no fault in Jr's actions and decries the traitorous actions of a 3 man wearing 18.
The stories change week by week and the coffee pours freely, but make no mistake, the talk is centered around rubbing your nose in your own driver's happenings.
But the dirtiest of all talk centers around Talmadge. Half of what is said should not be printed, but I can give you the gist of such happenings.
It generally starts with Paul, who clamors in from the diesel Dodge, which Talmadge always has to wonder in amazement that it did not fall apart in the drive over. Were Talmadge not such a generous man, he'd have long ago called the police to tow the "piece of junk" off of "his" parking lot.
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