Racing is considered a spectator sport, but as far as I'm concerned, it gives spectators ten times more unpredictability and amazement than actually participating any active sport you can name. I've never witnessed anything more exciting, more flush with adrenaline, than a pit crew in action--fueling, changing tires, checking the driver's apparatus, all in a space of 30 seconds. Add to that the competition for space and speed on the track, and you can practically work off five pounds just by keeping your eyes open.
I don't know what it is about racing--well, I do: The action can't be beat, even though each kind of car racing operates according to formula. The classic Indy 500 winner A.J. Foyt once said there wasn't much to turning left all day, that the real racing challenge was the twisting-and-turning course at Le Mans. But Foyt was wrong. What's not exciting and dynamic about the multicolored cars outmaneuvering one another on ninety-degree turns, darting over, across, and through the black pavement at 200 miles per hour of ground speed? What's more, the turns and maneuvers are never the same; there's no end of variety on a car track. It's not only that you're just as likely to see a 1956 Porsche 356 against a reconfigured 2004 Ferrari. Every move to left or right, every throttle surge, every half second of delay represents a driver's split-second tactical decision. Every time a car--will it be the Ferrari or the Corvette?--surges on the stretch and leaves other cars behind, you know you're watching big-picture strategy in action.
A car race isn't just eye candy but a full-on sensory feast, plus muscle. The distinctively sharp-sweet odor of top fuel--the specially formulated high-octane gasoline used on speedways--penetrates the atmosphere. The smell of the smoking tires in the burnout lane seems to give everybody a contact high. Even the starting lineup of cars is sensual, with color, line, and paint-and-wax jobs playing agai...