Hollywood Casino 400: Win, Lose or Draw

[caption id="attachment_683381" align="aligncenter" width="520"] Courtesy the Associated Press[/caption] We're not in Kansas anymore. After Kevin Harvick's win Sunday, the contender pool may be a bit deeper. The quality of that pool may not be as high. When in doubt, let's break down the weekend Bert Convy style: (more...) ...

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WHY KURT BUSCH IS GOOD FOR NASCAR

Kurt Busch is most definitely good for NASCAR. Right now, you’re either thinking I’ve been smoking Oregon’s number one cash crop, or I am being as honest as Ol’ Slick Willie about Ms. Lewinski. Like him or not (and for the record, I am not saying I’m a fan), Kurt Busch is a needed presence in the sport. Why? First of all, Kurt races to win. One need look no further than Saturday night. His dash for cash contained no animus for anyone in his path, he had a race ...

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DO “THE DOUBLE” TONY!

There’s an uncharacteristic buzz in the post-award banquet world of racing, and it has nothing to do with what Danica Patrick wore to Las Vegas. Championship racing impresario Roger Penske has the chatter class working overtime with his offer of an Indianapolis 500 ride to NASCAR stud Tony Stewart on the same day as the Coca-Cola 600. It’s the first somewhat serious discussion we have had of “doing the double” (racing both races) in some number of years. Natural ...

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NASCAR’S GUILTY PLEASURE

 "If I'm a fan, I would love that. I think it is incredibly intense. It's wild. It's crazy." From Wonder Boy to NASCAR sage, Jeff Gordon has summed up well the manic mechanical madness that is NASCAR racing at Talladega Superspeedway. The drivers hate it, the writers almost self-righteously opine that no sane race fan should enjoy it, but nothing generates more shock and awe for the American sporting public than than the frantic finishes at NASCAR’s largest track. For ...

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MYTHBUSTING: NASCAR IS A REDNECK SPORT

 If you talk to some uppity sports fans, they think a typical NASCAR fan’s Sunday follows a predictable routine. They stagger out of bed with a pounding head sometime around 9 a.m. and throw on a pair of shorts that should have been thrown out five years ago, and their cleanest dirty sleeveless flannel shirt. After a pot of coffee as thick as roofing tar and a breakfast of Jimmy Dean sausage, eggs over easy and biscuits ‘n’ gravy, they hop in the ‘72 Ford pick- ...

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