Please pardon me. It’s been a rough morning because I woke up with racing withdrawal. Maybe you know what I’m talking about—after a perfect day full of race cars, I want more, but there are none. Racing withdrawal usually affects me after a long weekend at the racetrack. But the Sunday of Memorial Day weekend is a special day of racing. So even though I sat in front of my television all day and didn’t catch a whiff of race fuel or feel the rumble of an engine, I am seriously missing my race cars this morning.
It was quite the day yesterday.
First, the narrow streets of Monaco. And the heartbreak for Daniel Ricciardo as he showed up for his pit stop but his tires didn’t. (And the strange sight of Lewis Hamilton sharing his victory champagne with Justin Bieber.)
Next, the spectacle of the Indianapolis 500. And the celebration of history. And James Hinchcliffe leading the field to green one year after his horrific accident. And the surprise win for American rookie Alexander Rossi.
Last, the test of endurance at Charlotte. And Martin Truex Jr.’s absolutely dominating performance. And his absolutely emotional Victory Lane celebration with his girlfriend, Sherry Pollex.
And now, nothing.
The only consolation? I’ll be at a racetrack soon. Thirty-two days, to be exact. But who’s counting?