Danica Patrick? Check yourself!

I recently had a “check yourself” moment and it started with Danica and ended with Patrick.

Okay, ladies: you CANNOT tell me that you, like me, don’t love the fact that NASCAR is a white hot male dominated sport (punctuation intentionally absent, so take that as you see fit and do not judge me).

Here’s the issue: we could now have a chick on the track who can turn left with the best and is cute to boot. Gawd damn, that just pisses me off. Yep, I said it.

Com'on now. We all know NASCAR wives are smokin’ hot and positioned just "so" in front of the camera (How long ‘til DKNY sponsors Mrs. Johnson’s favorite johnson?) AND, let’s face it, the ‘bud girl’ chick-poos commentating track-side aren’t just there for their stellar insight and cutting edge interviewing skills, ahem.

HOWEVER, this Danica chick?!?! Like, what, what, what is this? And here, folks, is where the psycho, self-analytical, “check yourself” moment comes in: don’t hate me ‘cause I’m...female? Really???? Why do I have an issue with a girl competing in my favorite sport?

Here are the facts:

1. Believe it or not, she can drive (and I cannot believe I said “believe it or not”...I should be shot);
2. From what I hear, she’s not bad looking (To be honest, I haven’t checked her out yet. Let’s face it, I have just recently admitted that she even exists...baby steps...); and,
3. Her first and last names are inter-changable (Gawd damn! Was she born under the lights at Talladega?).

BUT, cramming all jokes into the 55 car (Mikey, sweetie, you are hilarious!!!) and getting serious for just a sec: if I could be her, I would be her. Yes, I would too!!?! In a Pocono, two tire, pit I would! It’s the COULD that’s the problem! And that, right there, sums up the issue. I’m jealous.

Again, setting my lack of talent aside for a moment (this is not about me), here’s the deal:

I totally get the “if you can’t join ‘em, beat ‘em” crap. Therefore, Danica, if you can beat my boys, or even just run a full race without pulling any “super” dumb ass, rookie, bullshit mistakes (unless your sponsor wants ‘em for air time, and then you gotta make a call sweetie, what’s your dignity worth? remembering that the “normal” dumb ass, rookie, bullshit mistakes that are typically excepted, even accepted in a testosterone driven universe, will not be, for you) then I’m all over it!

Really Danica, just land yourself a respectable finish and you’re all good with me, sweet pea. [My gawd! If you actually won one you would hit iconic, heroine status in my books. Hey?!? I might even break into song -- okay promise, I won’t -- now there’s incentive for you!] That said, you can’t scoot the radar forever, Miss ‘trick. If you’re in this thing, where are you baby?!?

So Danica, here’s to you! This NASCAR chick has your back for now, so, hav’at’ter! Just don’t embarrass us, K?!? [Oh, and step awaaaaay from the 24 car...way away...like don’t even look at it. There will be NO trading paint between you two on my watch, Missy! Do we understand each other, ‘tricky???? --- Smile and nod, Danica, smile and nod. Remember: so far, I’m impressed, but I am also a green-eyed, monster from hell! (It’s true: I’m now admitting hell exists and this cellar dweller is a Jeffy fan!)]

Pleeeeeeease don’t blow this. They already think we can’t drive.

[Exactly when did this become a personal letter to Danica Patrick and when did I become an activist for female drivers? I believe there’s ice in the basement. GG Chucky B!]

CNC, out.