Bridge Mix...

The greatest spectacle in racing isn’t always the racing itself.

Perfect example of this statement is scooter guy. Watching the Sunday morning newscast from the racetrack, in preparation for the Coca-Cola 600, they had a live report from the quiet infield about fans gearing up for the biggest day in motorsports.

Cue scooter guy.

Into the shot rolls an older gentleman, on a Rascal scooter, hollering about being at the track for 10 years consecutively. He had on his trucker hat, wife beater and cargo shorts – complete with athletic socks pulled to the shin covered by black shoes. The live reporter rolled much like the scooter and made it work – but
I had one question.

What. The. Hell. Was. That.

Does that guy represent the entire infield at Charlotte, at any track? Maybe, but perhaps the lady they interviewed next was a more clear representation. Driver shirt, cooking up a storm for all the neighboring fans talking about how they debate which driver is going to win.

That seems more realistic to me - until I actually walked through the infield and around the facility.

The truth is that both scooter dude and cooking lady are perfect depictions of actual race fans. Race fans are a mix. Call it a Bridge Mix – nuts, fruits and candies all tossed into one bag, the chocolate covering is all they have in common.

There are candies. These are the more elite, more expensive, of the group. They are rare and sweet, usually oozing goodness. These are the fans that would give you the shirt off their back. These are the fans that give other fans, complete strangers, rides to the infield. They share their beer, share their breakfast; they open up their campsites. These are the gems that come from every walk of life, every corner of the country – they are true blue American, they are race fans.

There are the nuts. These are a little more common in the mix. These are the folks you see more of. The sunburned guy falling over as he walks down the street screaming at the top of his lungs ‘Kyle Busch sucks’, the woman wearing a tank top that shouldn’t be, the dude wearing cutoff shorts that shouldn’t be. The lady in the tube top that makes sure the entire of state of Alabama sees her…um, assets..

There are also fruits. The stock car dabblers, not sure what they want. These folks usually slide over from other forms of motorsports. This is the crossover group. This group isn’t as rare as candy, yet isn’t as common as nuts. They flock to the track for the pure speed, fumes and noise. They don’t necessarily pull for one driver, but pull for a manufacturer, sponsor, or a team. This is often where the term “NASCAR dad” comes into play. These are the regular folks. These are folks you never see – they blend right into the mix and when you come upon one, sometimes you’re a bit surprised at how much you enjoy it.

Regardless of what’s on the inside, the outside, the chocolate, is the common bond between the three groups. There is dark chocolate, milk chocolate and white chocolate – the diehards, the regular fan and the casual fan.

But make no mistake- they are all chocolate and they are all delicious.