Sign that Apocalypse is Upon us: Danica Patrick announces joining NASCAR

So. Danica Patrick has decided to become a stock car racer.

First. Yes. I think she is hot.

Second.

I could care less about the sex of a good athlete in any sport. If they are good enough to deserve participating, go forth and prosper.

Okay.

Her decision:

I hate it. Maybe I am old school, but I remember when Indy car drivers were Indy car drivers. Unser. Andretti. Foyt. Sure I assume they could drive their Ford Galaxy 100 mph down some dirt road in the backwoods in their private time if they wanted, but they were Indy car drivers (ok. I admit beyond the Indianapolis 500 I was a little unclear what they did the rest of the time). I assume they worked at high-end garages or something when they weren’t at the Indianapolis 500.

Bottom line.

They drove funky cars 2 inches off the ground 220 mph. And they focused on that.

And Formula One drivers were all guys with funny names who drove Indy cars (but insisted they were called something else simply out of European haughtiness) all over Europe so we could make cool movies about them. Similar to football (soccer), this was their thing and their funny-named drivers stayed across the moat.

Oh. And they all dated European movie stars and we don’t have them here so they had to stay there.

Finally, NASCAR drivers were NASCAR drivers (although all these California, shorts-wearing drivers kinda threw NASCAR a curve ball). NASCAR is all about rough and tumble, non-Indy car driver, beer drinkin’, stogie smokin’, jeans wearing drivers (and if a woman driver came along like this I would probably go to a race to watch her bumping fenders with one of those glamorous Cole Trickle California drivers). These guys wouldn’t be caught dead in some high falutin’ Indy car. (Well. Maybe one of the drivers who drive a Toyota may).

Maybe I am still numb from the stupidest thing I think I have ever seen – a NASCAR race at Indianapolis. WTF.

Nothing belonged on that track but Indy cars. Now…chewing tobacco-spittin’ drivers with Toyota Celicas are driving across the bricks (Mr. Brickyard must be spinning in his grave).

So what’s next? Indy cars at Talladega? Yeah right.

Anyway. Maybe it all started falling apart then.

Look. I have nothing against Danica Patrick. She seems like a fine lady and good driver and I prefer looking at her then say maybe…well…any of the other Indy car drivers (although I do like the guy who is married to Ashley Judd to win so we can watch her run to her husband in the winner’s circle).

I believe this recent Danica decision is simply another indication the apocalypse is upon us.

Dogs and cats living together. That’s what it feels like.

I just want it to go back the way it was.

Oh well.

Good luck Danica. Be prepared. Some yahoo in the grandstands is gonna throw a halter top on the track when you win your first race.