It was 14 years ago that I went to my first NASCAR race. It was a Saturday in April, and in front of 13-year-old me was Texas Motor Speedway: a 1.5-mile oval bigger than any human-made structure I’d ever seen. Forty three cars rolled by as the crowd stood to salute them, whistling, whooping, and whipping white towels above their heads.
The air stank of tyres and fuel. The earth shook as cars thundered toward the green flag. Noise reverberated off the grandstands in a metallic shriek, which my longtime friend Steve McClain calls “the greatest sound in all of sport”. When I heard it, my jaw dropped.
This year, NASCAR reached its 75th anniversary – 75 years with fans like me and Steve. To celebrate, the sport honoured its greatest drivers,
