This weekend, while the claims jumpers take a nap the Cupsters and truckers take their turn at The House That Jesse Jones Didn’t Build But Might As Well Have; i.e. Martinsville.
Martinsville is the quintessential NASCAR track, even more so than Bristol. While the Thunder Valley terrordome is in essence a freak, Martinsville is far more pastoral; a racetrack built to be a family place back when stock car racing was both nascent and the epitome of rough’n'tumble roustabout action on and off the track. Yet Martinsville is a most puckish pastor, a location where the cliche about NASCAR being nothing more than driving fast and turning left is both embraced and turned on its head. Sure, that’s what we’re about. Only here we’ve taken it to the nth degree. Drive real fast, and then oh boy do you turn left. Needless to say, this kind of action involves a lot of pedal pushing. Martinsville has seen more brakes applied than the back seat of a teenage boy’s car by not that kind of girl.
There is no trick to getting around Martinsville. All it takes is being the very best as what you do, knowing how to feather and finesse so your pit crew isn’t singing “Cherry Pie” by Warrant whenever they take a look at your rotors while even as you tiptoe through the turns prepping yourself to mash it down the straightaways. Winning at Martinsville is never a gift or lucked into. It is earned.
Favorites? Start with Jeff Gordon, he of the seven wins at this place. Jimmie Johnson has won five of the last nine races here. Others have run well at the dogged clip, but Gordon and Johnson are its unquestioned masters.
Enjoy the weekend, everyone.
