From the NASCAR Pits

It’s race morning at Martinsville, which is a righteous thing.
It’s been a while since I’ve covered a race in which the odds seemed so strong of one particular driver winning. Jimmie Johnson has won five of the past six races at Martinsville, which is NASCAR’s smallest (.526 mi.) track and among its more unique.
Wonder what the posted odds are in Vegas (yes, I realize that, if so inclined, I could probably figure out a way to look this up)? Based on the prevailing view on site, it’s almost as if there could be only two betting choices, Johnson and the field.
Many fans insist, despite all evidence to the contrary, that Johnson is “nothing special” as a driver. They think it’s “all car.” In fact, some of them are demanding that Rick Hendrick make Chad Knaus the crew chief of, guess who, Dale Earnhardt Jr. If he did that, and if Earnhardt won the championship next year, I bet almost no one would say it was “all car.”
The bad news is that Johnson gets little credit for his great works and deeds. The good news is that he is one of few people on earth who isn’t particularly bothered by that. I don’t think he much cares whether he gets enough credit or not. He probably enjoys not having the hassle of mobs following him everywhere. Think about Earnhardt Jr., who has the mobs but not the success. Sure, Junior loves his fans, but they do get in the way of living a somewhat normal life.
I think it would be cool today if someone other than Johnson wins, but that’s not because I dislike Johnson. It’s because writing the same thing over and over gets old.
As for the original notion — the last time I covered a race where one driver seemed such an overwhelming favorite — it was, ironically, probably Earnhardt Jr. (not to mention his father before him) at Talladega in the early years of this decade.
As if I haven’t already written this enough over the years, I love this track, this area, these fans and this race. Sitting here in this press box — the Dick Thompson Press Box, named for one of my favorite people in NASCAR — I can see fans arrayed in their campers and tents on the rolling pasture behind the back straight. I can see the changing colors of autumn and the hubbub of activity in the infield.
To my way of looking at it, this is NASCAR’s most charming venue. It may be its only charming venue. Most race tracks are like football stadiums. They’re imposing, not charming. Baseball parks are often charming.
Martinsville is charming.

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