Yeah.
So, this is a story about relationships. But those relationships are all between people who compete in stock car racing, and I know allot of you that might be into the relationship part might not be so high car racing. That’s cool, I get that. I get why you probably aren’t—the sport doesn’t have the best reputation when it comes to the LGBT crowd, at least by reputation. Anyway, thanks for taking a chance and stopping by--makes my tail wag. But before we dive into the story proper, there’s some basic things ya gotta know about this odd sport of ours. I’ll keep it short.
First up, we race stock cars—not open wheel cars like they do in Europe. It’s also way different from drag racing, because we actually turn. But the upshot is ya can go to your local dealership and buy a car like the one we race on Sundays, minus the roll cage and custom fitted seat. In the old days it was more literal: Kit Turner’s owner, Rick Moore, has a story he likes to tell about breaking into a dealership on a Friday to get a car he was supposed to race one weekend then frantically scrubbing the marks off to get back in the showroom after the race. Taking the whole “win on Sunday, sell on Monday” tagline a bit literal if you ask me. Another one from my owner, Jimmy Nolan, was about getting a deal on his first race car cuz his uncle ran the dealership. Times sure have changed since then.
Now, our cars are a custom built for racing in special shops run by the race teams. Still got the names of car makes, but my number 4 Chevy isn’t anything like the Chevy you can go and buy at your local dealership. Well, it sort of looks the same. Like you can tell what it’s supposed to be. And all of it is done by Jim Nolan Motorsports to go racing. Hell, even more than that—race on a specific track in a specific series, with a specific rule set. The car won’t be seeing the street at all—though I’ve heard of some guys modifying retired cars to be street legal.
Anyway, we race under the Stock Car Racing Association sanctioning body, SCRA. Most of us say it “Scar-Ah.” They set the rules, the schedule, and hand out the trophies. They don’t own the tracks we race at—well, they own two—but they are buddy buddy with the owners of the tracks. All race teams are independent and pretty much come and go as they please. It costs a lot to run a team, so there is some turn over each year. SCRA has three levels of competition—best I can compare it to is the minor and major leagues in baseball. Traditionally, a driver will spend time in each series, and then move up to the next one. Lowest level, where most of us start, is the Truck Series—where you’ll be surprised ta learn they race pickup trucks. Shocking, I know. The next level up is Grand National, and then at the top—the major leagues—is the Cup series. Both of them run cars. Cup cars have more powerful engines, and a couple of minor body differences compared to the Grand National cars.
Then we go racing. The SCRA season is the longest in sports that I know of. Our first race is in the middle of February, and we go till the weekend before Thanksgiving with only a week or two off.
But, like I said, I imagine most of you are here for the relationship stuff. Some ‘o the others will fill in more details later. But for now, let’s get to the important parts.
No comments yet. Be the first!