In the summer of 2002 my father and I went to the Firecracker 400 at Daytona. As a big NASCAR fan this was the bees knees, having my first NASCAR race be at Daytona. For those who aren’t familiar with NASCAR, it would be the equivalent of having your first pro fight being a Pride new years eve card.
My father and I went to all the races we possibly could that weekend and then at the Busch race, the minor league of sorts of NASCAR. There were two older gentlemen who appeared to have ingested way too much alcohol for a human being, never mind a human being that old. They ended up getting in a shoving contest, nearly resulting in one man falling down about eighteen flights of stairs. My father and I stood there laughing like maniacs.
Today I learned that a fight at a NASCAR race isn’t nearly as dangerous as a World Cup match. As well as Croatian chain smokers have lived seen things that are so insane that a near riot at a world cup game is even worth looking at.
