Paul Dana RIP

Wednesday, March 29, 2006, 6:57 AM

I wrote this opinion piece the week after Dale Earnhardt Sr. Died In 2001. It was never published. Although Paul Dana was not Dale Earnhardt, in talent or in stature with-in his sport, the emotions that any death in auto racing and the reactions it brings forth from uninformed mainstream sports journalists remain the same.  I just recently used two paragraphs from this piece in a blog here, just a few weeks ago. These were my thoughts then... and they are my thoughts now.

(2001) My name is Michael Loos and I am starting my third season on the air with host Dane Neal and engineer/sidekick Skip Kubicki on the weekly auto racing radio show - "Gasoline Alley - The Fastest Show In Radio" - 5:00 PM Tuesdays kicking off March 6th on WJJG 1530 AM here in Chicago. I am the son of a former local stock car racer and the nephew of many more. I've had the good fortune of being an amateur drag racer (Top Ten in points at the old Oswego Dragway) while even my Mother competed in what were then termed "Powder Puff Races," or women's races.

I have been utterly appalled by the many journalists who have shown such an outpouring of contempt for a sport that most of you have shown you know nothing about. Over and over again I have been inundated with the most foul and uninformed opinions by so many in the sports media who feel justified in spewing sensationalistic, inane, knee-jerk drivel as long as they preface everything with - "I don't profess to understand the fascination with auto racing," or "Although I don't know much about the sport..."

First thing Monday morning I had the unpleasant circumstance of hearing one of the hosts of the morning show at "The Score" [Chicago Radio Station WSCR] expressing the opinion that the accident involving Tony Stewart is "...exactly what NASCAR wants!" Apparently, to the ignorant, fans want to see accidents, mayhem, and even blood. The afternoon team of Dan Jiggetts and Doug Buffone [Both former Chicago Bears], although evenhanded and casual in their discussion, came to this conclusion; Buffone: "They should have airbags!" Jiggetts: "They do!" In case you didn't know, they don't. You wouldn't know this if you listened to this show.

Sun-Times sports columnist John Jackson informed us last week that, "the race is always won by the fastest car..." and "as we all know, a driver has less to do with a victory than a jockey on a horse." To make such an obviously uninformed remark only makes Jackson look foolish and unprofessional. What the casual fan needs is real, factual and on-the-square information.

Inevitably, when someone outside the mainstream of the sport interviews a racing driver, the questions asked are pure fluff. ("What happens if you have to go to the bathroom?" Which is followed by a giggle, something akin to a two-year-old who just heard the word "poop.") The person who knows nothing about auto racing doesn't learn anything of value while the real fan turns it off because it doesn't enhance his knowledge of the sport.

I can tell you this. The love of motor sports is innate. It is born the first time you feel the deep rumble in your chest from the thundering cacophony that explodes from red-hot exhaust headers, the sweet aroma of un-spent gasoline, the merciless assault on your deafened ears as the engines rpm climb. To the driver it's the most powerful drug known, a palpable, seductive temptress that beckons with the anticipation of mainlining speed for real. There is not an experience on earth that I have tried that gives such a pure, clean rush of adrenaline. To be in control of a finely tuned race car, to know that only your hand-eye co-ordination, mental focus, agility and sheer force-of-will, are what enable you to defeat your competitor, is a potent and robust emotion. And those that drive accept the risks. From the amateur drag racer to the guy who drives the bullrings to the very finest the sport has produced, they all know that when you step into the car, whether you are travelling at 70 mph or 200, you are taking your life into your own hands and placing yours in the hands of others. They're not daredevils, they don't race to "tempt death," they are skilled athletes who realize and accept the consequences of their actions.

For the fan it is an extravaganza of the senses. The sound and sights, people and noise. Infield bar-b-Que's (racing fans invented tailgating,) team flags waving in the wind, the climbing excitement, race strategy to discuss and headsets that allow you to hear in-race team to driver communications all make for an exhilarating outing.

This sport is not football, where huge men work year-round to build themselves into walking steamrollers so that they may legally commit mayhem and violence upon other men on every play, from the first to the last. It's not hockey, where savage bloodbaths, outside the realm of the game itself, take place regularly in front of screaming chanting fans and media alike, who tell us that it is intrinsic to the sport. The point of auto racing is simple, pure. Get to the finish line first.

The next time you feel the need to thump your chests for the good of the common man, to shut down a sport you may not know much about, it might be better to turn your scorn to the next NFL / MLB / NBA role model that is brought up on charges of: A) Murder B) Sexual Assault C) Drug use D) All of the above A great driver died Sunday, and by all accounts and more importantly, a good man. Say a prayer for him, his family and his competitors.

Ernest Hemmingway once wrote; "There are only three true sports, Bullfighting, Mountain Climbing and Auto Racing, the rest are merely games."

Sincerely, Michael Loos