The difference between American NASCAR and the world’s favorite, and most competent, motor sport, Formula 1, is very similar to the divide that exists between the automatic American car and its British stick shift counterpart.
On both accounts, the lesser American approach is just the product of a dumbing down process. This society and culture that dictates happiness comes in the shape of convenience, or in the bottom of a happy meal, is grossly mislead. This lazy yearning for ease and conveniences leads you to miss out on so many thrills in life.
Driving an automatic car demands nothing from you. Any thing you can drive with at least one foot in a cast or not there at all is hardly worthy of being driven at all. To drive, to really drive a car, is to be in control of a powerful machine and that is where the thrill comes from.
In the same breath, to engross yourself in the ferocious power, speed and intricate attention to detail that Formula 1 driving demands is to appreciate what the art of driving calls for at its most intense and high-risk level.
The concentration, mental and physical fitness and dedication required of a Formula 1 driver, his pit crew, his race team and all others involved in putting together a race weekend is monumental, mightily impressive and far more rewarding than the Mickey Mouse notion of “car racing” that you Americans have adopted, which one practically qualifies as fit to handle if they played with that Scalectrix set they got for Christmas when they were 9 more than twice.
Formula 1 is a relative sprint in comparison to NASCAR, the marathon that bores the pants off you. A NASCAR race is twice as long as a Formula 1 race and half as exciting. My math is not gospel, but that seems like a pretty one-sided calculation, if you ask me.
Also, the NASCAR race trundles into motion as the cars do a couple of warm-up laps before starting the race from a moving position, or a rolling start. It’s remarkable how boring it is. On the other hand, the Formula 1 start is arguably the most exciting aspect of the whole race weekend, as there is a chance for anybody anywhere on the grid to completely change his or her race with a good or bad start. It is utterly enthralling.
As with most other aspects of America, the NASCAR cars and races are offensive linemen, products of brute strength and mindless physicality in comparison with the ballet dancers that glide with beauty and finesse around the F1 circuit, comprising of some of the trickiest turns, right turns included, on the motor-racing circuit. By the way, on a slight tangent, it takes a right numbskull to not have to keel over after 4 hours of going around and around the loop of bloody left hand turns. A right hand turn would do the NASCAR community a world of good every once in a while. Open up their minds to the road less travelled by.
As Confucius said, “To see what is right and not to do it is want of courage.”
So, have courage. See what is right. Do what is right, and make that right turn over to a real motor sport, Formula 1.