Brontoburglar Gets All Up In It

Cause yeah...fuck Tony Stewart.

Fuck the economy, President Bush, or Sarah Palin. I’m going to grieve about what everyone cares about. NASCAR.

Or, more specifically, Tony Stewart.

It’s no secret that I’m a Stewart fan. There’s a banner on my wall in my bedroom. There’s a decal on the back of my truck, and number 20 floormats on the floor. The water bottle I take to the gym even has a 20 on one side and a Home Depot logo on the other.

Yeah, I’m a tad obsessed.

It doesn’t help that the NASCAR season officially starts with the Daytona 500. Sure, there’s the Bud Shootout and the qualifying races before that, and yes, I get really nervous during them, but they don’t count.

I knew not to get my hopes inflated too much during the Daytona 500 after Stewart flipped in 2001, blew an engine just three laps into the race in 2002, dominated in 2004 but got passed by Junior late, got hung out to dry late in the race by Junior in 2005, got into some inexplicable in-race confrontation with Matt Kenseth that turned a potential race win into a fifth place finish in 2006, or when he got just a tick loose while leading with 50 to go in 2007 and got run into by Kurt Busch, sending both cars careening into the wall.

It’s not Earnhardt-esque, but Stewart’s run of bad luck taught me to know better.

Or so I thought.

After hanging around the middle of the pack for most of the race, Stewart was in third for a late race restart. I knew better than to get nervous. His teammate, Kyle Busch, made a daring move on leader Jeff Burton as the cars entered turn one, leaving the high side wide open for Stewart to take over the lead.

The laps wound down. Three to go. Two. One.

Holy shit. Tony Stewart is going to win the motherfucking Daytona 500!

But here came Ryan Newman, with the help of the non-teammate Busch brother on a huge run down the backstretch. Stewart had moved down to help Kyle Busch. The high side was wide open. Third place was the finish.

I let out something representing a scream/gasp that I probably couldn’t replicate again. My legs, which were shaking, almost collapsed.

I told you I was serious about this.

Fuck you racing gods. Why did you do this to me? Certainly the rest of the season was going to make up for that, wasn’t it?

At Las Vegas, the third race of the season, he blew a tire with a very good car. At Bristol, he had once again, the best car on the racetrack, and at one point, the Joe Gibbs Racing cars looked headed for a 1-2-3 finish. But in the very late stages of the race, Kevin Harvick ran into the back of Stewart, sending Stewart into the wall while Harvick went on to finish second.

At Darlington, Stewart got wrecked on the second lap by Elliott Sadler, who was apparently unaware that the race had started. And yes, even with a damaged race car, Stewart was running the fastest laps of the race down the stretch, despite being a lap down.

I should have known it was going to be like this the whole season.

At the Coca-Cola 600, Stewart methodically made his way through the field and had the best car at the finish. Green flag pitstops were cycling through, and with just three laps to go, Stewart had already made his stop for a splash of fuel and was comfortably in the lead when a tire went down, forcing another pit stop and handing the win to Kasey Kahne.

Around that time, rumors broke of Stewart’s impending departure from Joe Gibbs Racing. This couldn’t be true, I thought. There’s no way that this marriage was going to end. Think of all of the #20 Home Depot stuff I’ve bought over the years! He can’t leave. I’ve invested too much money in clothing and accessories!

As the rumors swirled, Stewart’s incredibly bad luck got even worse. At Sonoma, while running second to Kyle Busch with just a few laps to go, Stewart got wrecked again by Harvick. At New Hampshire, Stewart absolutely dominated the event, but pitted for a late race caution for tires and fuel. The cars at the back stayed out. It started to rain. The race was called.

Oh, and at Daytona again, Stewart had a monster of a car but had to get out because he was sick. In 2002, Stewart won at Watkins Glen despite shitting himself. I can’t imagine how badly he must have felt that night.

As I slammed the cushions on the couch and screamed at the top of my lungs, I came to the realization that there Stewart may not win a race this year. Something that seemed inevitable to happen more than once in 2008 didn’t feel like it was going to happen at all.

It was inexplicable. The driver hadn’t lost any talent, as evidenced by the fact that he won almost half of his Busch* starts in 2008. The equipment was there, as his teammates were winning races. Luck just wasn’t on his side.

He dominated at Richmond until a late race pit stop let Jimmie Johnson slip ahead of him. Stewart was able to get alongside Johnson more than a few times, but never was able to clear him as Johnson was able to keep him pinched down to the inside.

The races were winding down. Stewart wasn’t going to win.

Then there was Talladega. After some wild melees, Stewart was out front as the white flag waved. Not again, I thought. This was a plate track, just like Daytona. He was a sitting duck.

Sure enough, he got passed before the start finish line.

What the fuck?

But Regan Smith passed him below the yellow line. That’s a no-no at plate tracks, as the banking falls off steeply below that yellow line, and trying to merge back onto the banking can be disastrous.

After some deliberation, NASCAR awarded the win to Stewart.

I went nuts.

There might have been some tears, but I won’t admit that. I knew that it was in all likelihood his last win in the 20 car, and all of the agonizing and frustrations of the previous 29 points races were let loose in those loud laps around my house.

Tony Stewart had finally won a motherfucking race.

But he didn’t cross the finish line first. The win, which I had been salivating for since February, the last win for JGR in the 20 car was going to be in an ass ugly green and yellow Subway car and on a fucking technicality.

Again, what the fuck?

And of course, it was fitting that in the last race of the season, Stewart was driving away from the field with just 15 laps left, but was forced to pit for fuel and a ninth place finish.

At this point, I don’t know what I’m getting at, and it’s doubtful that you’re still reading. But fuck you lady luck. There’s a reason I obsess over Tony Stewart so much. I have no other sports success to cling to. I root for the Royals, the Chiefs and the Missouri Tigers. Tony, you are the only real successful sports figure I’ve cheered for in my lifetime.

Thank you, and I will be sporting a brand new #14 shirt for the 2009 Daytona 500.

But why did it have to end this way?

Comments

[April]

You know you're a redneck when the only thing you have to bitch about for the entire year of 2008 is NASCAR and the first paragraph of your grievance includes, "...There’s a banner on my wall in my bedroom. There’s a decal on the back of my truck, and number 20 floormats on the floor. The water bottle I take to the gym even has a 20 on one side and a Home Depot logo on the other." =)

Oh and Ryan Newman is a sexy bastard.

That is all.