2010 Mini Goat Land

2010. When I look back at the year 2010..I will always remember this..

:yup: those are goats. And not just any goats. The mini goats from Concord Farm Road.

2010 held bigger changes for me than I could have ever imagined. Through out the past twelve months, my life has changed in every way possible. I have a different job, vehicle, boyfriend and most importantly, I have a new outlook on life as a whole. During my lunch break on a Monday afternoon, my life changed.

It was a typical Monday. The standard "Sorry its Monday" Bojangles's Chicken biscuits had arrived. The tear-down of that weeks race car was under way. Everyone of us was moody and pissed of at the world. We were in our typical "busy work" mode just trying to make it to lunch break. When lunch finally rolled around I decided I needed to go get food for the little man, not the little man working in our paint shop but my little man, Watson. As I made my way out of the shop door, I considered taking him with me, like most four legged friends, Watson likes Petsmart. Due to the effects of the Bojangles's biscuits, I opted to not exert myself any more than necessary by walking all the way back to my office to go get him.

On my return to the race shop, I made a poor judgement and found myself in a whirlwind of trouble. I was t-boned by a Chevy Z71 pick-up truck which catapulted my Tacoma into the air. As I have said numerous times before, I am no stranger to flipping a vehicle. It happened all too often in my racing career. This time was different tho, as I saw the truck about to collide with mine I remember taking a deep breath. Everything became slow motion and my senses were sharper than a knife. The smell of fresh cut grass and rubber filled my nose. The sound of the wind rushing by my window was louder than the crunch of sheet metal and shattering glass. I braced myself and remember thinking :dont hit your head, dont hit your head: After flipping three times I landed in Mini Goat Land. Everything was silent, except for the goats.

I was livid. :Ahhh my beautiful truck! Dammit Dammit Dammit: As I climbed out of my truck I was greeted by several crew members from a nearby race shop. They knew me and my truck and were obviously shaken. I myself was too angry to be scared. I remember blowing them off as they tried to convince me that I was in shock. I was in shock, I was in shock that I had just wrecked my effing truck.

As I waited for the Harrys to arrive to help me load up my now waded up truck I began to look for my belongings. Everthing that was inside of my truck was now scattered throughout Mini Goat Land. Floor mats, dog food, cds, everything. The goats began playing a game of "Finders Keepers" with my wallet. As I shewed them away it began to sink in what had just happened. I flipped my truck and now I am about to robbed by goats.

 In my lifetime, have had many close calls. If that day was my D-Day I will never really know but I am whole-heartedly grateful for two things..

First, seat belts. Everything was gone except for me. I have survived many flips but I am unaware if I am as successful at flying.

Second, Bojangle's Chicken Biscuits. I have no doubt that the effects of eating two Bojangle's Biscuits can be accredited to my laziness that kept me from bringing Watson with me that day.

I have an invisible hour glass looming over top of my head. I have no clue how much sand is in it. I live my life never really worrying about sand. But what I have begun worrying about is how much sand is left in everyone else's hour glass. I could have lost Watson that day. I didn't. We dodged a big one. I hope that I always feel as lucky as I did on March 22, 2010. Every day is a blessing.

The Sandlot

I pulled into what would be, on any other day, an empty field in Concord, NC. As I got out of the car the familiar smell of methanol, Ben Oil and rubber filled the cold December air. I had arrived at the Field Filler Fairgrounds. A small 1/10 mile asphalt race track, built by one of NASCAR's past champions. The track that seemed as if it had been forgotten for quite sometime, was suddenly full of life. The young guys who brought this little piece of land back to life, reminded me of the boys from the movie, Sandlot. I believe the only difference was that this Sandlot was actually a race track rather than a baseball diamond. 

As we entered the pit area I began to feel like a kid again. Excited to be amongst friends who loved racing. Real racing. No politics. No contracts. Just racers. Kids having fun.  The masterminds behind The Field Filler Fairgounds were introduced to me as SuperShoe, Flea, The Franchise and BeaverDragon. They could easily be recognized by their Chuck Tailors and ripped up jeans. These young guys are possibly some of the best talent that the city of Charlotte has to offer to NASCAR. The best part of it all is, they spend their weekends hosting amateur go-kart races at their self built racetrack simply because of their love for the sport. What these guys have done with this little racetrack is possibly the coolest thing to hit Charlotte since the filming of the movie, Days of Thunder.

At the Field Filler Fairgrounds racers young, old, famous and dangerous all get the chance to get back to doing what they love. There is no "Sprint Cup" girls in Victory Lane or big sponsor names written on the walls around here.. :nope: simply a checkerboard stage, a Get-Well banner for one of their injured racer friend, a bottle of $7 champagne and a hand-made, wooden, "Dale" trophy..:that I believe BeverDragon made in shop class.: Driver's meeting was conducted just off of turn four next to a 76 ball from the old NASCAR Winston Cup days and opening race ceremonies included a prayer, the pledge of allegiance and the National Anthem which was sung by everyone in attendance.

Events like these are special to people like me for several reasons.. Around this time of year I begin to re-evaluate why I moved here and if I am still happy. Recently, my passion for the sport is less vibrant and home-life seems more endearing. After a Sunday at the Sandlot I quickly remember why myself and every one else is in this city. Each one of us, at one point in our lives, would have given our right arm to be at a race track with our best friends, racing to win a wooden Dale Earnhardt trophy. :Tho: those days are behind me now, I felt privileged to spend my Sunday with the boys who still invest their time and effort into the sport we all love.

The reporters of NASCAR seem to always be looking for a story to write. I must say that the best story in racing, at this current time, isn't at Lowes Motor Speedway..it's about 5 miles down the road at a little place called the Field Fillers Fairgrounds or in my eyes The Sandlot.

Here is some video. Check out the crowd at this place..

Pre-Race Ceremonies

Green Flag