Looking at the recent images provided by photographer Steve Cameron, specifically of cars rolling by on the frontstretch at East Windsor in the mid 70's, I got feeling kind of nostalgic.... I couldn't figure out why. Then I looked more closely at the background of a few of the images and it hit me.... Warmups. Yup.... Warmups. If you look closely at the pictures (example below), you'll see cars rolling out from the pit exit onto the speedway. I kept looking at that part of the image.... and it took me to a place in my head that I probably haven't been for almost 50 years.... I was sitting up in the first turn, top row... corner seat just above the speedway office, with Airport Road to my hard right, pit road entrance a little right of center, and the entire speedway straight ahead, with the 4th turn all the way to my left. As the cars began rolling out, I'd say to my dad sitting next to me.... "There's Katona in the #K3... and here comes McBride in the #11... We were at the races, and it's gonna be a great night. Nothing else mattered. Admittedly, these days I'm known as "Post Time Joe", deservedly so as for the past decade, by design, I show up right as the first green flag is waving on either the first heat race of the night, or in some case, taking my seat as the first feature of the night is going green. I have no interest in warm ups these days... I don't even have much interest in heats when it's a given that everyone will make the show. I can't explain all the reasons why, and probably don't even know half of them, but it's just different these days. But there was a time when I had to be either in my seat... or maybe sometimes I'd be down by the fence as soon as the water truck pulled in, and the first car was rolling out onto the track for warmups. It was that important. It set the stage for the night. Was it the excitement just thinking about what was in store for the night? Who was pulling onto the track next? Was it a regular? Was it an invader? Maybe it was someone who had a bad crash the last time out and you had good feeling inside of seeing them back..... Was it as simple as we were all just kids back then, back when it was still cool for you to take a good long look into the cockpit of the cars as the drivers rolled by at little more than an idle... Making a connection as a kid.... Being able to see that there was really a person inside that car... a real person that was about to tempt fate one more time... maybe ending the night in victory lane... or maybe on the back of a wrecker.... Or maybe in some cases, hoping that tonight would be the night where they'd finally make the starting field for their division's feature. It didn't matter. I looked up to them all. They were all amazing. Sometimes you'd see a driver look up and wave to his family sitting in the stands.... They'd wave back proudly. Sometimes as a driver idled by, maybe he'd even notice you standing down by the fence.... looking at him.... and he'd maybe give you a little nod of the head...., maybe a little too cool to wave, and me being too cool to wave back... But we knew we were both there, and that nod was cool enough for me. Maybe it wasn't just the drivers.... Maybe it was the machines too. Coupes... Coaches... Gremlins and Pintos... Maybe a few Falcon's, Mustangs, Vegas thrown in too.... There goes Charlie Gunther in his little Covair... Some looking nice and shiny, and as the season went on.... some showing the battle scars earned. There's something about listening to an old coupe... or Gremlin... or whatever body style that's idling by next... with the driver sitting inside somewhere.... and sensing the power that was at the ready... at the slightest hint of of downward pressure of his right foot. Not yet... For now, an idle is plenty. They'll be time later to show themselves, and all of us, what they can do. So how about you? We're you someone who arrived early, and made warmups an important part of your night at the races... kind of setting the stage for the rest of the night? Or maybe you were a driver that will look at the image above, and remember the feeling of pulling out of the pits for the first time on a given race night.... and remember seeing kids like me, on the other side of the fence.... .....who maybe when we felt a little bold, we'd give each other a nod, knowing that we were exactly where we wanted to be.
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