Sports Can't Escape Life

I'm stunned and saddened by the loss of Sean Taylor earlier today.

Not because I knew the Washington Redskins safety personally -- I didn't -- and not because as a Redskins fan, he was one of my favorite players (though he most certainly was). No, what gets me is how in one instant, the very fabric of sports and one of the reasons I enjoy them was invaded by the harshest, most cruel entity known to mankind:

Life.

For many, myself included, sports is an escape from the rigors and stresses of daily life. When I tune in to a football game or a show about college basketball on ESPN, I want to hear about the coaches, the players, the on-the-field action. I don't want to stare the harsh realities of life and death in the face when I'm trying to enjoy a simple game. When I'm having a bad day or things aren't quite going the way I'd like them to, I use sports to help me feel better. Watching a baseball game or listening to experts break down the big NFL game of the week helps me forget about my problems for a little while, escape to a world of fun and games.

Taylor's premature death is but another tragic interruption upon our daily retreat. Instead of focusing on a Pro Bowl safety coming into his own and trying to rehab his knee to get back on the field for a Redskins team that's suffered three straight tough losses, we're talking about his checkered past, mourning the fact that his 18-month-old daughter will grow up without her father.

Which is probably the most tragic reality of the whole ordeal.

When I made the decision seven years ago to become a journalist, I decided to write about sports so I could avoid these harsh realities. I'm well aware of how bad life can be, how violent people can be toward one another. I didn't want to make my living writing about such dreary subjects as murder, robbery, politics and police corruption. And sports was my sanctuary; instead of writing daily about police looking for an armed robber or interviewing a crying grandmother about how her beloved grandson was killed by a drunk driver, I wanted to make my living writing about the games we all love.

The plays they make, the championships they win and how, often, sports can bring out some of the best in humanity. I'm reminded of a story I did for HRVarsity.com back in September, writing about how the Granby High School field hockey team was wearing pink uniforms throughout the season to benefit breast cancer. It was the positive, uplifting tale you might not get while browsing through the national or local section of your newspaper, a story made possible solely by the presence of sports.

But sometimes, life barges into the sanctity of sports and reminds all of us that no one's immune from the cruel reality. Not players, not coaches ... no one. Life doesn't care what you do for a living, or who you are. Nor does it care how many home runs you hit or whether you're among the league leaders in interceptions. Life doesn't give a damn about a 24-year-old football player changing his life and trying to provide for his young family while performing at a high level on the football field.

But the fans did care. Taylor's death is tragic, as is the reminder that not even our daily escapes are safe from the cruel hand of fate.

Remember When ...?

Anyone else here recall a time when ESPN didn't need a legal analyst?

It wasn't really that long ago; used to be I could tune into the Worldwide Leader and get all the scores, highlights and analysis I needed. Sure, there were tales of athletes getting arrested or finding themselves knee-deep in scandal, but aside from the news itself and the sport in question's analyst weighing in with a field-related opinion, that was it.

Not anymore.

I don't know when the legal analyst first appeared on ESPN's airwaves. The first time I saw one was during the Kobe Bryant sexual assault case, and the trend seems to have snowballed since then. These days, the legal analysts get almost as much airtime as all the other analysts, what with all the athletes (and in some instances, coaches) getting into trouble with the law.

Pacman makes it rain in a Vegas strip club. There's Roger Cossack.

Michael Vick made some dogs tear each other to bits? Say hi to Lester Munson.

O.J. went all psycho on some guy who stole his memorabilia (who would want that stuff, anyway?)? There's that Cossack guy again!

And let's not forget Thursday night; when news broke that the federal government would indict Barry Bonds on perjury and obstruction of justice charges for his testimony in the BALCO steroids case, SportsCenter's Jay Harris and Cris McKendry spoke with not one ... not two ... but 'THREE people with the title "ESPN Legal Analyst."

There was Cossack, there was Munson. And then some other guy who's name escapes me at this point.

I could understand having one legal analyst on-hand for when athletes get in trouble with the law. Hell, I can even get by with two being on the corporate payroll. But the Walt Disney Corp. pays three guys to be ESPN's legal gurus? Is this so commonplace these days the Worldwide Leader has to go through legal analysts the way Britney Spears goes through Social Services workers?

Or the way Phil Jackson goes through gay jokes when talking about his team?

I won't hold the legal analysts' presence against ESPN; it's clearly a sign of the way the sports culture has changed. When the athletes we watch and write about aren't performing on the field anymore, it seems as if they're being handcuffed, lined up and made to stand and turn to the right (No, your other right) in front of a camera. Our favorite althetes hit 450-foot home runs, throw game-winning touchdowns and throw down monster dunks -- but they also make it rain in strip clubs, shoot firearms at the dead of night and take illegal performance-enhancers.

So when they stand before a judge with some high-priced attorney at their side, we have a right to know what they're dealing with. Because chances are, the vast majority of us will never find ourselves in that position.

It's just a shame, because I remember when ESPN had no need for the legal analyst. Just proof that not all evolution is necessarily good.

Fan vs. Writer: the Eternal Struggle

One of the first things I learned six years ago when I started studying journalism was "Leave your fandom at the door."

It was a simple enough concept; someone professionally credentialed to cover an athletic event, on any level, with the purpose of later relaying the game's events to an audience should, upon entering with press pass in hand, leave all allegiances and feelings at the door. The only rooting one need do when a sports writer is for good storylines and quick games (we all have deadlines, you know).

At first, I wasn't sure I could do it. I got my start covering sports for the campus newspaper at Old Dominion University, ''The Mace & Crown''. So here I was, someone intimately passionate about the school I was attending, embarking on a profession in which I would have to train without rooting for my favorite athletic teams.

No sitting courtside drung basketball games and hollering over a tie-breaking 3-pointer.

Oddly enough, though ... it happened. I quickly learned to shelf my emotions and just focus on the action on the field (or court, or diamond, or track ...). Whatever I felt was gone when I was working; instead, all I did was write what happened, use quotes where appropriate and become familiar with the idea of using statistics to help make arguments.

And over the years, the fan-writer conflict has bled over into the sports I don't cover, but merely watch as a fan. Baseball, football ... it doesn't matter. My highly-opinionated fan's eye has been clouded by the non-judgemental lens of the sports writer.

The Baltimore Orioles suffered through their 10th straight losing season, in the process firing manager and pitch coach (after the fact). Rather than throw my black-and-orange Orioles cap to the ground in disgust and booing the on-field product (or even the owner signing the checks from his skybox), I tried looking for hows, whys and ways to fix things.

Washington grabbed defeat from the jaws of victory Sunday at Green Bay, blowing a winnable game against the Packers. But while my friend Kenny cursed and groaned and threw his Redskins hat at the TV, I just ... watched.

This isn't to say I no longer love sports; it's obvious I still do (as often as I visit this site and I've chosen to make my living in sports). But my outward passion has been subdued over the years, replaced by a stoic professionalism I learned in the press box and now can't get rid of. My enjoyment of sports hasn't dwindled, it's just ... changed.

Well, for the most part. I still get pretty riled up at a NASCAR race.

I don't know if it's the adrenaline or the sheer passion I have for and against certain drivers, but I cannot be stoic during a NASCAR race. That is, I can't just sit there and watch things unfold without letting an emotional reaction or two take me over. I cheer loudly for the drivers I like, I boo mercilessly for those I hate.

Saturday night at the Bank of America 500 at Lowe's Motor Speedway, any and all professionalism I felt left the minute the ticket lady took my stub. When Matt Kenseth had problems, I cheered. When Tony Stewart ran into Kasey Kahne on pit road, I hollered and screamed at him as if he could hear me. I rallied and cried for Clint Bowyer as he surged to the front and I can't even repeat some of the things I shouted when Ryan Newman shot to the lead late, only to spin out and not win.

It seems NASCAR is my fandom's last reserve.

I want to cheer on my Redskins, feel confident that at 3-2, they have a shot at not stinking '''quite''' so bad this year. But the sports writer in me tempers that, leaving me to watch the games, feel a twinge of emotion over what goes on, but ultimately analyze and break down the hows and the whats, not the "Woohoo!" and the "Here we go, boys!"

I love sports; always have, always will. And there are still times where I have a strong opinion that I have to deliver, regardless of my professional standing or what my job might be doing to the rest of my sporting life. I still cheer, I still boo, just not as ... adamantly as before.

Unless we're talking cars driving fast in circles. Then I'm as passionate and animated as Jenna Jameson.

Only my passion's real.

Memo to Cubs Fans

So the Chicago Cubs made the playoffs this year. Well, whoop-dee-f*@#ing doo; has Hell frozen over yet?

Oh, that's if they win the World Series, never mind.

I've made my hatred for the New York Yankees no secret on this site, but I haven't made so much noise about my other least favorite team, the (for some reason) beloved Cubbies. And that was mostly because I thought they were irrelavant, not likely to challenge for October baseball, let alone actually be taking part in it.

But since they are, I have a message for those who inexplicably follow the North-Siders:

LEAVE BARTMAN ALONE!!!

Before I explain the above, let me say that I don't hate Cubs players or coaches. I think Lou Piniella has done a fine job getting that team into contention and some of those players are really All-Star caliber -- I'm talking mostly Alfonso Soriano, Aramis Ramirez, Derrek Lee and Carlos Zambrano. So my problem isn't with the on-field unit, the 25 guys who suit up and day in and day out to play this game I grew up loving.

No, my problem lies with the fans. The overzealous Cubs fanatic who sees everything through perpetually-negative, Harry Caray-sized glasses and places blame where blame need not be placed.

Like Bartman.

Everyone and their grandmother knows who Steve Bartman is and what he did. The Cubs five outs away from beating the Florida Marlins and advancing to the 2003 World Series, and then the foul ball was hit down the left-field line and Bartman got in Moises Alou's way and voila!

Instant scapegoat!

Please. Enough with these curses and billy goats and excuses as to why your team time and time again gags away the postseason. Did Mitch Williams and the Phillies make excuses when he gave up the World Series-winning home run to Joe Carter in 1993? No, he manned up. Did Trevor Hoffman make excuses when he allowed Colorado to score three runs Monday night to win and advance to the NLDS? No, he took the blame and said it was his fault.

So why can't Cubs fans just acknowledge that not winning the World Series in almost a century is the team's fault?

Okay, Bartman got in the way of what you thought would be a sure out, but what if Alou doesn't catch that ball anyway? Or what about that routine grounder that Alex Gonzalez booted later in the inning? Or the bullpen, which gagged away the rest of Game 5, or the starters who pitched so poorly in Games 6 and 7?

You gonna blame those on Bartman, too? Cause if the answer is yes, then words cannot describe how freakin' retarded I think you people are.

Let me ask this: if the Cubs don't win the Series this year, who are you gonna blame? The players, the manager? Or Bill Belicheck for illegally filming the team on defense? Are you going to accuse A-Rod of receiving an HGH treatment from an Orlando pharmacy, or will you just look at the players who didn't perform and put the blame on them?

You don't see Mets fans doing this; they're blaming the people who deserve it for their September collapse: manager Willie Randolph and the players. No goats, no curses, no headphone-wearing fans who like their souvenir baseballs a little too much ... Mets fans understand it's all about what happens on the field, nothing else.

Was Bartman stupid for reaching for that foul ball? Yes, and so was Jeffrey Maier when he reached for a home run in the 1997 playoffs that helped New York beat the Orioles. But did Baltimore ever blame their postseason demise -- or the following decade of futility -- on that 10-year-old from the Bronx? No, because unlike those Cub fans, they weren't morons.

The Red Sox were not cursed, and neither were the White Sox. But then, that's what this is all about, isn't it? For so long, you Cubs had the Red Sox to keep you company in the misery of never winning it all, and Boston left you hanging in 2004. That had to sting, didn't it -- losing your lifelong roommate because he decided he was too good for you and moved out.

Or the White Sox, a clearly superior team with a clearly superior manager sharing a city with you, winning it all. It stinks, doesn't it? You have the fans, you have all the money and clout in that city, yet loudmouth Ozzy Guillen's the one with a World Series ring.

That billy goat curse is nothing but a bunch of horse crap, and you know it. Bartman is an excuse, and you know it. As you root for your bastions of mediocrity this postseason, please ... let the old ghosts go. Stop blaming the blameless. If the Cubs lose, blame the players -- you know, the ones who actually lose the game.

I mean, what does it take to make you Cub fans happy? Ditka managing the team?

Nah, you'd probably find something crazy to blame him for too.

Coach's tirade needless, embarrassing

By now I'm sure you've seen Oklahoma State football coach Mike Gundy's tirade toward columnist Jenni Carlson after Saturday's 49-45 win over Texas Tech.

By now I'm sure you've also formed an opinion on the rant.

I'm a tad confused as to the timing of the rant; I've covered sports long enough to know what to expect in a press conference following a game like Saturday's: coach comes in, makes an opening remark about how great the opposing team is, how gratifying the win was and how much harder the team will have to work the coming week. Coach then takes questions from the assembled media, largely repeating the earlier statement for his answers.

But Gundy didn't do this. No ... he entered the press room and immediately laid into Carlson for her column in the Daily Oklahoman -- a column in which she opined about why quarterback Bobby Reid was benched. For those who haven't read the article, she basically questioned Reid's mental toughness and, without actually saying so, called the young man a wuss.

That's when Gundy went off.

Now, I know what you're thinking: "Oh, here's a sports writer jumping to the defense of one of his brethren." Which ... okay, you're not entirely wrong there. But I have serveal problems with Gundy's actions ... most notably, the public forum with which he defended Reid.

I'm all for a coach backing one of his players; it shows a camaraderie not every team -- regardless of the level -- has. I have no problem with a coach standing beside his player and showing unflinching support. What I have a problem with is when a coach, like Gundy, publicly undresses another individual to do so. If Gundy had a problem with Carlson's article, then he should've found a time to pull Carlson aside and talked to her one-on-one about it. He had no business using a post-game press conference -- when other writers who had nothing to do with this article and his reaction to it have a job of their own to do -- to challenge her in front of television cameras and many of her colleagues.

I'm sure Carlson has thick skin -- you kind of have to in this line of work. And she stands by her article, as well she should. Gundy said, "three-fourths of this article is inaccurate," which is all fine and dandy. But there's one problem with his statement; he has to prove the inaccuracies. It's not up to Carlson to stand up and prove why what she wrote was accurate -- this takes us back to the journalists-revealing-sources debate -- it's up to Gundy to point to the inaccuracies and prove to Carlson and her readers why she's wrong.

It is also worth noting this was a column, not a news article. So Carlson was expressing an opinion, one Gundy clearly disagreed with.

Gundy berated Carlson for degrading a young student-athlete who was doing things the right way. He moaned about how Reid was an ameteur, and shouldn't have been subject to this kind of criticism. Because after all, Reid was just a kid, a kid who was working hard and doing things the right way. But what I wanna know is ... if Reid was working hard and doing things the right way, then why was he benched?!

Not only that, but both Gundy and Reid need to understand that when you play major Division I college football in one of the six BCS conferences -- and particularly in a town like Stillwater where your sport and your team are king -- you practically are a pro athlete. The revenue and exposure these kids bring to the schools and conferences warrant this kind of exposure and everything that comes with it -- including media scrutiny.

You don't want media scrutiny as a college football player? There's always Division III.

I read Carlson's article. Nothing Pultizer-worthy, but it was a readable piece. It was also your typical column in the sense of the style and flow it had. Though Carlson does attack Reid's character to a degree, there is nothing in that article worthy of such a meltdown from the coach.

A coach who hadn't seen the article until Reid's mother showed it to him.

But Gundy doesn't read the papers, or so he says. If he didn't read the papers, he wouldn't have paid this column -- or Carlson -- any mind. Generally, when someone publicly says, "I don't do this," they almost always do. And, as far as I'm concerned, if Reid himself doesn't have a problem with the article (and I haven't seen anything publicly to tell me he does), then what's the big deal?

Gundy showed incredibly thin skin in his tirade. His Cowboys had just completed a thrilling, emotional win over a conference rival and all he could think about was some column about his benched quarterback? This shows me a coach who's priorities are a little off-kilter and a fuse that's much too short. I think Gundy needs to re-examine things and concentrate on the thing Oklahoma State hired him to concentrate on:

His football team.

Campbell Coming Along Nicely

In many ways, Washington Redskins quarterback Jason Campbell is still an unknown commodity, a young singal-caller walking around the nation's capital with a large question mark over his head.

Not totally unlike the ones you'd see when a guard hears a noise in the PlayStation game Metal Gear Solid.

That's not say Campbell isn't talented -- he did lead an Auburn team that went undefeated and got snubbed out of a shot at a national title by the ultra-genius BCS and was the No. 25 overall pick in the 2005 NFL Draft -- but he's so unproven. Monday night's NFC East road game against Philadelphia was just his ninth career starts, and to call the Redskins offense of being explosive might be grounds for making one Rosie O'Donnell's replacement on The View.

Since apparently, you have to be insane to have that job.

Two seasons ago, Joe Gibbs found the playoffs thanks to a solid -- if not aging and immobile -- Mark Brunell, but last year it was clear Brunell's days had passed. Getting Campbell in for the first six games of 2006 was not only a smart move, it was the only move. A first-round pick, Campbell was eating a lot of salary, and if he was to be the Redskins' quarterback of the future, he needed as much experience as he could get, as soon as possible.

That experience is already paying dividends, as Monday's 20-12 win over the Eagles showed.

Campbell isn't a fantasy player's dream -- I don't see 300-yard, 4-touchdown games in his immediate future -- but he does what Gibbs asks him to: hand the ball to backs Clinton Portis and Ladell Betts and make smart decisions on passing plays. Campbell's mobile enough to escape the pocket when it collapses (which Brunell couldn't in later years), but he's not a running quarterback. He's got a canon of an arm, yet one of his favorite targets is tight end Chris Cooley.

Who caught that TD before the end of the first half Monday night? Cooley.

Like most young singal-callers, Campbell is still prone to mistakes -- that interception in the first half to James Williams was a late throw after Campbell stared down his intended receiver -- but he gets better every time the Redskins play. And the offensive line has done a wonderful job protecting him, even with injuries (the biggest being Jon Jansen, who's out for the year with a broken and dislocated ankle). The two-headed beast, Portis-Betts, gives a solid rushing attack that gives Campbell more leeway in the passing game, a reality that will only prove itself more as the weeks go by and he gets more experience.

The defense has helped, back to playing to its potential -- just 25 points in the first two games, one offensive touchdown allowed -- and held Donovan McNabb and the Iggles to nothing but field goals whenever they sniffed the red zone. And how about that 2007 first-round pick Laron Landry, laying that big hit on 4th and 6 to save the game?

But Monday's game was Campbell's coming-out party. He's young, talented, smart and as long as the team keeps playing him the way it does -- not giving him more than he can handle, slightly increasing his workload week after week, this guy's going to wind up being a nice starter in the NFL, maybe even a Pro Bowler.

I'm not sure if he'll be another Doug Williams -- a similar-style QB Gibbs won the Super Bowl with -- or if he'll wind up being a legend, but Campbell is, in many ways, the quarterback the Redskins have needed ever since Mark Rypien left:

A winning one.

NASCAR Goes Global

Used to be, the NASCAR Nextel -- back then, Winston -- Cup Series was as exclusive a club as you could find. Drivers -- white males predominently from the southeastern U.S. wrestling 3,400-pound machines around bullrings and speedways for everyone to watch and appreciate -- and, okay, get liquored up on.

Petty, Earnhardt, Yarborough, Johnson, Allison, Elliott, Pearson, Parsons ... easily a Good Ol' Boys Club if ever there was one.

But once the 1990s came, that started to change. Ernie Ervan swooped in from California; 1992 series champion Alan Kulwicki from Wisconsin. Then came Jeff Gordon -- born in California, grew up in Indiana. Robby Gordon, Jimmie Johnson and Kevin Harvick -- from California. Ryan Newman, Tony Stewart ... Indiana. Kasey Kahne and Greg Biffle, the state of Washington. NASCAR has grown nationally in terms of driver talent in the past two decades, which while irksome to some fans -- you'd be amazed how many fans hate Jeff Gordon simply because he's not Southern -- was a undeniable fact.

These guys were good, sponsors loved them ... so they raced

But thanks to a little guy by the name of Juan Pablo Montoya, a new trend has taken over the Nextel Cup Series -- international drivers. It's not enough to say there's an open-wheel influx anymore -- Jeff and Robby Gordon, Stewart, Newman and Kahne all come from open-wheel backgrounds -- now, it's a matter of racers from other countries coming to a sport that was once exclusively American.

And it's no coincidence this movement coincides with Toyota's inclusion in the sport.

Montoya, a former Indianapolis 500 champion and Monaco Grand Prix winner in Formula One, has more than held his own on the Nextel Cup circuit, competing week in and week out. He won his first Cup race at the road course at Sonoma, and any day now we could see him in Victory Lane on an oval. Yes, he's been too aggressive at times and has feuded with a couple guys -- Harvick, mainly -- but make no mistake: Montoya is a NASCAR star, and he's signaling a change.

Consider:

--Australian Marcos Ambrose is in the running for Busch Series Rookie of the Year, and nearly won his first career race last month in Montreal.

--Former CART and Formula One driver Jacques Villeneuve, a Frenchman, will make his NASCAR debut this season with Bill Davis Racing in the Craftsman Truck Series. Undoubtedly, the goal will be to eventually have Villeneuve run Cup races.

--CART veteran Patrick Carpentier of Canada ran his first NASCAR Busch Series race last month in Montreal, finishing second before making his Nextel Cup debut at Watkins Glen. Some speculate he'll run the full Busch schedule next season.

--IndyCar Series champion Dario Franchitti of Scotland is in negotiations with Chip Ganassi to drive full-time in the Nextel Cup Series next year, driving the No. 40 Dodge made famous by "Good Ol' Boy" Sterling Marlin. Franchitti, who also won this year's Indy 500, cites money, exposure and safety as a reason for considering the move.

--According to ESPN.com's Terry Blount, English-born IRL driver -- and former Indy 500 champion -- Dan Wheldon wanted Ganassi to put him in the full-time Cup ride, but the car owner decided to keep him in the IRL for at least another year.

--Blount also says three-time defending Champ Car Series champ Sebastian Bourdais, from France, considered NASCAR offers before ultimately deciding to race for Toro Rosso in Formula One.

Ignoring the fact that these guys are all open-wheel stars -- because then we'd have to add American Sam Hornish Jr. to the equation -- it's clear that NASCAR, at least competition-wise, is going international. Some of the traditional die-hards might not like it, but the fact remains: NASCAR touts itself as the 43 best drivers in the world firing up the engines every weekend and fighting for the checkered flag.

Note the phrase in the world -- that's not just PR talk anymore, it's coming true.

And let's be perfectly honest: in America, no form of motorsport is more popular than NASCAR. Not the Champ Car Series (formerly CART), not the IndyCar Series ... NASCAR. A lot of that has to do with the CART/IRL split of 1995; before then, open-wheel racing was king in America.

Worldwide, nothing tops Formula One ... but like soccer, it's almost irrelavent here in the States. That's likely because live TV coverage is on at odd hours on this side of the Atlantic, the racing isn't deemed as "exciting," and without a marquee American star, there's no real reason for U.S. gearheads to take notice.

In America, we like the NFL and NASCAR. Everywhere else likes soccer and F1.

So naturally, NASCAR has the money and the exposure. Money isn't a question for Formula One drivers -- I recall two years ago where Michael Shumacher outgrossed Tiger Woods in total earnings that year -- nor is exposure. But notice the names I listed above. Aside from Montoya and Villeneuve, they're all former CART and IRL drivers. With American open-wheel racing waning in popularity and NASCAR on a constant rise, it's no wonder the big stars are flocking to cars with roofs.

The safety factor is also important, as Franchitti noted. NASCAR will run the Car of Tomorrow full-time in 2008, which will mean slower speeds, more crash-friendly bodies. All Nextel Cup tracks are equipped with energy-absorbing SAFER barriers and since speeds are lower in stock cars, crashes won't be quite as hard. Not only that, but -- and Franchitti will love this -- a stock car is much harder to flip end-over-end than an open-wheel car.

So lots of money, tons of exposure and safer race cars ... who wouldn't want to make the switch?

I'll tell you who won't like it, though: a lot of NASCAR fans, and CART and IRL.

The IRL seems to be on the cusp of national prominence, but still fights for attention whenever Danica Patrick isn't on the verge of winning of throwing a tantrum. For the IRL to keep growing, it can't have its champions and stars flocking to NASCAR. Franchitti leaving, and Wheldon wanting to leave, does nothing to help the IndyCar Series.

Likewise, CART suffers. Canadian Paul Tracy tried NASCAR for a bit, only to find he couldn't handle it. But the fact is, he tried ... and last year, young phenom A.J. Allmendinger won three straight Champ Car races. This year, he's running for Team Red Bull in the Nextel Cup Series, and though he's struggling, he's still getting more money and more exposure than he did as a winner and contender in the open-wheel ranks.

Now, the fans ... remember earlier when I said fans would boo Jeff Gordon for simply not being Southern? Sounded pretty retarded, didn't it? Well, take that logic, and throw an international driver into the mix. If stereotypical redneck NASCAR fan don't like no Indiana boy knockin' paint with Dale Earnhardt Jr., what do you think they'll think of a Frenchman doing the same? They're not going to like it. I know it's stupid, you know it's stupid, but that's the way it is. NASCAR has gone corporate and in many ways shook loose of its Southern roots, but a lot of the Southern fan base remains and most of them are ... let's just say unsophisticated.

Personally, I say let the international drivers come. If they can learn the cars and be competitive and successful, then that's great. NASCAR grows even more, these drivers have another viable outlet for their careers and everyone benefits. NASCAR stands for the National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing.

Notice it doesn't say which nation.