Column: It happens every February

            DAYTONA BEACH, Fla. – Once upon a time, back when movies were clean and stock car racers were dirty, Hollywood produced a baseball flick called It Happens Every Spring. It was about a professor who became a pitcher because of a fluid he invented that made baseballs repel wood. When he tossed the old spitter, it hopped the bat.

            In February, all the stock car racers are contenders. The fans are so starved for racing that they: (a.) scour television listings for replays of old races, (b.) watch otherwise laughable movies like Red Line 7000, Six Pack and Stroker Ace, (c.) they socially network their sorrow at having nothing better to do, and (d.) they speak of the Daytona 500 as if Interstate 95 were a yellow brick road.

            At the moment, in NASCAR, the balls are hopping the bats. Even the old professors become young at heart. The cars all glisten, the owners are all magnificent benefactors and the drivers, like the children in Lake Wobegon, are all better than average.

            NASCAR might as well be Santa Claus. The Great France in the Sky has decreed that his subjects may “bump draft” again. All the kids can play in their sand boxes and the ice cream is on the house.

            Oh, goody.

            The engines get more horsepower because The Great France in the Sky has ordered up carburetor restrictor plates that are larger (63/64ths of an inch, in case you have any idea what that means).

            Oh, goody.

            The new hotshot, fancy-pants driver on the scene is a good-looking gal who makes racy commercials, and fancy pants doesn’t have the negative connotation it once did.

            Oh, goody.

            This will change, of course, if for no other reason than the principal topic happens to be fans. Short for “fanatic.” At the moment, everything pleases them. In a matter of weeks, it will seem as if nothing does.

            Two thirds of them will cheer wildly if, say, Dale Earnhardt Jr. wins the Daytona 500, or, for that matter, a 125-mile qualifying race next week – he’s back, I tell you, he’s back! – or the Nationwide Series race.

Can you say DRIVE4COPD 300? Wonder if Larry McReynolds can?

One third will claim it’s fixed, which is basically what one third claims about almost everything in this sport.

The late Jim Garrison would’ve made a fine NASCAR fan.

You may contact Monte Dutton at mdutton@gastongazette.com.