Some might ask, “Why NASCAR?” Well , hear me out…
It's because it's what we love. It is who we were born to be. And here we sit, thinking. Well, I’m not a thinker. I’m a driver. I’m a doer. And that's what I need to do. I don't need to think. I need to drive. I need speed. I need to go out there, and I need to rev my engine. I need to fire it up. I need to grab ahold of that line between speed and chaos, and I need to wrestle it to the ground like a demon cobra! And then, when the fear rises up in my belly, I use it. And you know that fear is powerful, because it has been there for billions of years. And it is good. And I use it. And I ride it; I ride it like a skeleton horse through the gates of hell, and then I win. I WIN! And I don't win for anybody else. I win for me, you know why? Because a man (or woman) takes what he wants. He takes it all. And we’re men (or women), right? Aren’t we? AREN”T we?
This is about the 12th attempt to get a pic of me in the air... and what you don't hear is "GO SADDLER!" (that's the guy on my bright blue shirt).
An airborn pose like that deserves to be seen. Woo woo Adam!
Two words: Hottie Alert.
Crowell kids who have caught the fever.
True blue real NASCAR fans. I was honored to be wedged inbetween them.
