Our 2007 Dodge Durango comes to a stop in the grass parking lot. My family and I jump out into the crowded parking lot filling with people laughing and talking, barbecues roasting hot dogs, and country music playing. As I look up, the oak trees have bright green leaves and stand tall in the 3 o'clock afternoon sun. Even farther back, sits the greatest race track ever built: Darlington Raceway. The 1.366 mile oval sits nestled in a valley surrounded by merchandise haulers, advertising haulers, a historical museum, and even a wonderful barbecue place. We begin our trek down the steep hill and we get our first glimpse of the outside part of the course. There are huge metal beams holding the beautiful raceway up and signs leading to the most glorious seats in the known universe. At the top of the hill, I yearn only to get among the welcoming fans and extremely loud race cars.
After a few hours of browsing the select haulers outside the track, we head to our seats. We sit in the section known for one of the greatest drivers of all time, David Pearson. To any normal person, the seats are just gray and cold metal seats that have no comfort whatsoever; however to any true NASCAR fan, the seats tell a great story. Not only are they the most comfortable and colorful seats, but they can point out all the historic things that have occurred there.
I take a second to study the features of the track. The walls are freshly painted in an alternating pattern of red and white. The racing groove is a dark black color that runs almost next to the wall. The cars sit on the pit road with fans, media personnel, and others around the cars. I can feel the chill in the air that ends immediately at the beginning of the race along with hearing the many shouts around the stands. Driver introductions end and then “Drivers, start your engines!' resonates throughout the stands before the cheers follow the command.
The engines fire to life in a flash. Forty three engines hum the same tune of comfort and invitation, but at the same time showing their ever present anger and harsh feelings towards the other engines on pit road. The cars head onto the track for the first time and the drivers wave to the fans during the pace laps. The green flag vigorously waves and the cars soar into turn 1. Beating, banging, and just hoping they can make it to the next turn or even the next lap. One driver jumps out to the lead and the rest chase behind him. I let out voracious cheers for my favorite driver, Kasey Kahne. Lap after lap, the pack races through the four turns of the track and attempt to chase down the leader. Eventually, one driver makes a mistake and the caution flag waves.
The race moves swiftly through the evening night and before I know it, the darkness has set in. The darkness allows for an even greater view of the amazing race track and gives me a chill incomparable to any other chill. The red and white walls begin to sparkle in the night sky, but the historic “Darlington Stripes” mask the beauty of the walls and make them less welcoming and comforting. At this point, the race enters the tense late stages and the action begins to pick up. Coming into turn 2 with about sixty laps to go, Kasey Kahne makes a swift move to pass Kyle Busch for the lead on the outside. I put my hands up in happiness with encouraging chants and voracious yells. The two were side by side and on the verge of hitting one another. As they exit turn 2, Busch slides up the track and makes the slightest contact with Kahne. Kahne gets loose and slams the outside wall.
Immediately, I pound the seat in front of me in frustration and wish I could say something bad about Busch, but I have two of his fans surrounding me. I am pretty angry, but I can care less because I don’t want to be anywhere else. The race once again goes green and quickly moves to the final stage where the race finishes and the winner crosses the finish line. Matt Kenseth, the winner of the race, pulls onto the front stretch of the track and begins to burn down his tires. Whitish smoke flies from under his tires and lifts up into the sky. At the same time, fireworks fill the night sky and let out the most wonderful sounds and smells. Cheers follow Kenseth as he happily makes his way to victory lane. He pulls into victory lane and I watch as he removes his helmet while other drivers stand on pit road and wish they could feel the same happiness. NASCAR officials scurry from car to car, making sure no harsh feelings erupt in a fight. Kenseth climbs out the driver’s side window of his car and stands on the window frame with his hands up in victorious triumph. His team tosses Gatorade around while media personnel duck so they will not get wet. The fans file out in a state of disorganization. I sit there and think about how the track leads to most of the excitement and happiness in my life. Being amongst the crowd, watching my favorite driver go around the track only fifty feet in front of me, and cheering for the greatest action on the planet, is a thrill I will never forget.
To some, Darlington Raceway is just a 1.366 mile oval that sits in a very rural part of the small state of South Carolina. To me, Darlington Raceway is the greatest 1.366 mile oval in any part of the world and it sits in the Mecca of the motor sport world with its treacherous turns, narrow racing groove, and the ability to make even the calmest drivers lose their tempers. All these things lead me to put on my Kasey Kahne hat and Kasey Kahne t-shirt every May and make the two and a half hour journey to Darlington, South Carolina with my family. It is the only race out of 36 I get to attend and it is the one I call my home. When I arrive, the track allows me to become a different person. One who is willing to push his favorite driver in any way possible and enjoy the track that is known by four simple words: “Too Tough To Tame”.
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