What I didn’t know was that my driver is the guy who does backflips when he wins.
On Sunday, I finally realized it while celebrating in my living room the big Carl Edwards win at the Kobalt Tools 400 at the Las Vegas Motor Speedway.
That’s right, folks. Third race of the year, and my pick in the pool paid big dividends!!
That being said, I still can’t call myself a full-fledged race fan. I’ve realized the past two weekends that watching races is a lot more fun in Dale’s garage, surrounded by snacks and people to chat with. When I’m at home, on the couch, I’m much more likely to fall asleep rather than stay captivated by the race. Even with my guy running in the top 10.
So it isn’t surprising that on Sunday, I wasn't really paying much attention. I only knew Edwards was doing well because my brother kept reporting to me what position he was in. (I’ll also use a mild hangover as an excuse. I really just needed to sleep.)
My mom’s absolute favourite part of race Sundays is the fact that if the race runs a bit late, that usually means the boys end up jumping away from the table repeatedly to check on the standings. And that’s exactly what they were doing this past week. Supper was served - a lovely chicken dinner - and Mom was growing increasingly frustrated that Dad and Luke kept leaving the table to “check on the race”. Especially since my sister’s family usually stays for Sunday dinner and it’s tough to keep two little kids in their seats at the table when the big people keep taking off to watch TV.
She was fairly ticked when Luke shouted, “6 laps to go and Edwards is still leading, Jill!!” And then I left the table to watch the end of the race.
It’s really a miracle that she still feeds us, isn’t it?
When Edwards crossed the finish line in first place, I started whooping and cheering, and my little nephew Caden joined me, while everyone else went back to their meal. Caden and I stayed to watch Edwards’ celebration, and we were both delighted by the backflip.
The win felt good. My first real win as a NASCAR fan. And the realization that my driver is the supercool one who flips off of his car after a win.