I want to be the first to make this point today: the Brickyard 400 can only be described as a (very unfunny) comedy of errors.  And those errors get pinned to the collars of no one but NASCAR and, even more, Goodyear.

It hasn't been a secret this season that tire wear has been a problem.  Indianapolis is known to be an abrasive track.  The tire test done here was done at a time of the year when the air and track temperatures were cooler.  It's not exactly rocket science to deduce that bring a softer tire to this track will result in major issues.

So far today -- at less than 50 laps into the event -- tire issues have plagued Dale Earnhardt, Jr., Juan Pablo Montoya, Carl Edwards, Mark Martin and Matt Kenseth.  And Jeff Gordon and Jimmie Johnson have both run the tires completely down to the cords and were probably each a mere one or two laps from having a catastrophic blowout.  And that was on just 12 laps of racing!

NASCAR needs to postpone the remainder of the race until Monday, have Goodyear ship in about 500 harder-compound tires from their Ohio factory, and pick up from this point around 10:00 a.m. so the track is cool as long as possible.

This is sad.  Just plain sad.  And we, as fans, are being ripped off.  This isn't a race, it's a battle of attrition.

I will continue this thread as the day rolls on.  Chime in with your thoughts, because I know you all were expecting a race today, not this load of crap.

I'm about to make a startling admission that isn't nearly so startling when you find out what I was up to this weekend. Here goes: I didn't watch a single lap of Daytona competition.

Go ahead, call me nuts. I have a great reason. I am a NASCAR fan second; I'm a racing fan first. I spent the weekend in one of the national hotbeds of dirt track racing -- western Pennsylvania. I attended near-rainout events at Dog Hollow Speedway, a small, well-run track that runs five divisions each week; and Thunder Valley Raceway, my hometown track in Central City, Pennsylvania. It was fun. It was great racing. And, for a combined $25, I got more enjoyment than I have at any $100-per-ticket NASCAR event at Dover International Speedway. More on that in a minute.

NASCAR is now a traveling circus. Yes, it's fun. But the quality of the racing is way down in recent years. Given the chance to see other forms of racing -- where the drivers' pure passion for the sport trumps any amount of money they can win or lose in a given night -- I'm going to jump on it. And until the powers that be figure out how to rein in the upward-spiraling costs of doing business in the sport, things won't change. Only when the smaller teams can afford to compete will the competition return to its glory days of the 1970s through the early 1990s.

A little background on western Pennsylvania's racing pedigree: it is to late-model racing what the midwest is to modifieds.  Some of the best in the business have come from that area, including guys like Tom Peck (who raced for about 10 years in the Busch series) and current World of Outlaws Late Model driver Rick Eckert, who won the 1999 Dream 100 at Eldora, as well as the 2001 and 2002 Xtreme DirtCar Series championships.  Oh, also some guy named Chubb Frank...

So I ventured into the wilderness that makes up most of the stretch between Pittsburgh and Harrisburg. Dog Hollow is a place so far back in the sticks that it makes my hometown of 1,258 people look like a megalopolis. The stands are nothing more than bleachers on the side of a dirt hill, with some gravel beneath to keep the mud and dust down. We (my brother and I) drove 50 miles through constant downpours to make our first-ever visit to the track. Literally a half-mile from the track, the rain stopped. As proof that God loves dirt track racing, the only clear spot in the sky -- I kid you not -- was directly over the track. All night long. The racing was as good as I've ever seen, with the pure stocks providing the most entertainment. It's not often a guy enters turn three in third place and a second and a half behind on the final lap and winds up winning, but that's exactly what went down. A hard-charging second place driver finally made a run to the outside in turn one as they took the white flag and made it stick, getting a nose ahead off two. He had half a car-length in three, gave plenty of room to the previous leader, and then...got clobbered. Clearly unhappy about the prospect of losing the race after leading from the green flag, the previous leader drove in waaaaaaaaay too deep and simply plowed the other driver across the track and over the berm (no walls at Dog Hollow). As entertaining as it was, it was painful to watch someone come from the back of the pack, take the lead on the final lap, and then not finish the race. The other guy should be ashamed of himself for what he did.

The following evening, we made another rain-soaked trip, but this time it was only a few miles. It had rained off and on all day long, but not on the side of the mountain where the track sat. Again, the skies threatened but miraculously remained clear above the track. This time, however, it was the "lowly" four-cylinder class that provided the best entertainment. Father and son...uncle and nephew...brother and brother...whatever it was, all we were really sure of was that the guys who battled for the win were family. One led nearly the entire event, the other had fought traffic for the first half of the 33 lap (yes, 33 laps in a four-cylinder race on a half-mile track; it was a long night). Similar story, really. This time, the hard-charger managed to get by briefly with about seven laps to go, only to get passed again. He spent the remainder of the race trying to get by on the outside, only to pull a Days-of-Thunder-esque move coming off turn four on the final lap, going low after faking high getting into three. The come-from-behind win was complete, with a margin of victory that couldn't have measured more than three inches. Of course, at the speed they were traveling, I would imagine he won by about two and a half seconds.

About the 33-lap feature: the night was known as the "Windmill 100" -- the "windmill" part had no significance to racing, but rather was a reference to the 14 newly-installed wind-powered turbines visible from the stands as if they were put there for the sole purpose of being seen from the race track.  The "100" consisted of 33 laps each per class being run Saturday night.  The final lap was actually a reference to the pace laps for each event, with the pole position being vacated in memory of track founder (and long-time family friend) William "Billy" Will, who passed on earlier this year.

What did you watch? Bad drafting and utter proof that Toyota just has too much horsepower? Suckers.

• Apparently, DEI is for sale.  This whole thing stinks like my daughter's diapers.  Last year, Dale Earnhardt, Jr. offered to purchase 51 percent of the company but was denied.  A year later, the company is up for grabs?  Hopefully, Junior can get the right kind of scratch together to make a bid -- and, given the lowly state of the company, he could do it on the cheap.  It would be a real shame to see that team fall into non-Earnhardt hands.  Theresa Earnhardt may know how to run a business, but she can't run a race team.  Now it's time to put it in the hands of someone who can.
• I read a columnist yesterday who was praising J.J. Yeley's performance as a sub for Tony Stewart, claiming that J.J. can perform in a winning car.  First, I hardly consider a top-20 finish "performing," and second, Yeley spent three years behind the wheel of the #18 car -- the very same team that has won one out of every three races this year.  Sorry, Mr. M...J.J. should stick to open-wheel.
• Dale Jr.'s eighth-place finish was a disappointment after he led the most laps, but it was good for a jump to second in points when combined with Jeff Burton's hard luck.  This is now the highest he's been since he led following his October Talladega victory in 2004, if memory serves.  Kyle Busch's dominance will be hard to overcome, but if this team starts to sizzle at the right time, the younger Earnhardt could make his strongest run at a championship yet.
  

If you read what I wrote here Saturday, you would understand why I believe Sunday's race ending short because of rain is sweet, sweet irony.  Come on, the sponsor was able to get the race expanded by a single lap so they could say they "go the extra mile," but then the race was cut 17 laps short (if I'm off a little on that number, oh well; I pulled it out of thin air)?  That's divine intervention at work.

So, a company called LENOX Industrial Tools -- makers of things like pipe wrenches -- had their namesake event cut short by, essentially, a water leak.  Sure, God's great expanse is a pretty big thing in which to fix a leak, but it still makes for classic, reap-what-you've-sown humor.

Here are the high-and-lowlights of the weekend:

• Juan Pablo, I'd like to shake your hand and slap you in the back of the head at the same time.  Sure, Shrub deserved a good punting after all the arrogance he's displayed on the track since Day One in the big leagues, but that's not the way to do it.  Take a lesson from Kevin Harvick (you know, the guy you got up close and personal with last year at Watkins Glen?): wait until you get out of your car at some point, then go after him.  It's a lot more entertaining for the fans, and you aren't going to risk taking out half the field doing it, either.
• Jamie, hire a new spotter.  The only two people in New Hampshire who didn't know Dale Earnhardt, Jr. was pitting were you and the guy telling you where to go.
  
• Jimmie, you get the quote of the week.  While he's gotten better about it lately -- probably because of the six-year championship drought that is likely to expand to seven at the end of November -- Jeff Gordon* has walked around for a decade acting like he's entitled to whichever piece of asphalt he wants, and if you're in his way then that's just too bad for you.  Calling your own teammate -- your own shop mate! -- a "spoiled brat" on the radio after he failed to give you any semblence of room off the corner?  Priceless!**
• Is it just me, or did Tony Stewart look like he was about to cry after the race?  A softer, kinder, gentler, post-menopausal Smoke?
• Casey Mears led a bunch of laps -- two days after the world found out he wasn't going to have a job after the season ended.  When was the last time all four Hendrick drivers were mentioned in the same race recap?
• And, finally, a shout-out to race winner Kurt Busch and, more importantly, our own Kristen, the eternal Kurt optimist.  Miller Lite all around!  And then a beer to wash it down!
  

* - I am not a fan of Jeff Gordon.

** - Or Jimmie Johnson.