The Fear of Commitment -- by J. R. Andres 
Tuesday, March 31, 2009, 03:38 PM
Posted by Administrator
Címon Kyle, it was only a painted white line on the racetrack but you crossed it today in Martinsville Ė that line of commitment to yourself, your sponsor, your fans and to the rules of the sport. NASCAR didnít want you to engage in some mid-race bodywork by scrubbing the k-wall just to straighten out your rear fender after it was redesigned by Ron Hornadayís Chevrolet with only a few laps remaining in the rain delayed Kroger 250. It looked like you were coming into the pits but you knew you only wanted to win, you wanted to stop your tire from rubbing, you wanted to maintain your points lead in the CAMPING WORLD Truck Series. You figured everyone, especially NASCAR, would understand your reason for doing so but after you received the penalty for the infraction and at the end of the race, got out of your truck, threw your helmet in the rear bed and literally ran across the track for sanctuary, you once again said you didnít care what anyone thought of you.

There seems to be a disconnect between your behavior and what the MARS, Incorporated etiquette coaches have been trying to teach you all along, and it looks like you need to return to the classroom for a refresher course straight away.

It might just be another ďthatís racinĒ situation, the overused catch-all phrase that explains and makes sense of racetrack aberrations that sometimes defy description or then again, it might be explained away in terms of the behavior exhibited by one who lacks a measurable amount of impulse control.

Weíre on top of the world when we own hotels on Boardwalk and Park Place, your opponent is up to his neck in unpaid mortgages, besides being low on cash, and he just landed on your property late in the game. When the situation is reversed, we want to throw down our game piece, knock everything off the board and storm out of the room. I did that when I was 10 years old but I sure as hell didnít do it when I was 23 years old.
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