As we see each evening now, on our national news,

the Country is divided with strong dissenting views.

As each of us gathered here are quick to raise our voices,

we really have to wonder if we really make the choices.

This verse is not political, although it may seem to be.

It is just a way of saying I am happy to be free.

I thank the men and women, who serve to make it so,

and I'm always trying to be certain that they really know.

But, this show is about racing, racing history to be precise,

although modern-day event discussions sometimes add the spice.

Many of us still watch the races on TV and some even from the stands,

but I think there is proof positive that the sport is losing fans.

Could it be the economy or ticket prices today?

For some that is difficult to say. I do think it is fair to say free tickets are offered everywhere, and still the stands are almost empty and no one seems to care.

The television ratings, although I haven't seen the latest,

are just another sign that NASCAR is no longer the greatest.

Once upon a time racing rated a page or more when a major race was run,but not so any more. Once clipping articles for scrapbooks was really, really fun.

So why on Tuesday nights do so many gather here?

I guess because we are the history of a sport we hold so dear.

The men, all the men, and yes the women too,

who build this sport deserve a very special thank you.

The Flocks and Curtis Turner, Herb Thomas and Fireball...

It would take many volumes just to name them all.

Men like Bill Blair, Sr., Paul Lewis, Travis Tiller and Brownie King.

To some they are our heroes and to others those names don't mean a thing.

That, my friends, is history being rewritten or told in different ways. We must depend on these guys for accuracy of the sport from those days. A look back through history to make the stories right, doesn't always seem to work for us but with the right guidance it might.

It was a summer night in1952 when I was five years old,

coming up on my sixth birthday so now my age is told.

My uncle and my grandfather took me to a dirt track,

and after seeing and hearing those cars race, there was no looking back.

My school days were important and I always made good grades,

except for math and science, where only average or below was made.

English and history were always my subjects to excel, especially the history and the stories it would tell.

I learned of the battles that made my country free, and the many wars that came after to defeat all tyranny. I learned of Roman history and the story of the Greeks. But little did I realize where my love of history would lead.

When I began to realize how my life was so involved in racing,

I also began to realize that the history was being replaced.

It was becoming profitable for some to tell the story in engaging ways, but like many of you gathered here, I had lived through those days.

I had sat in many an infield at the short and dusty tracks,

and to my mother's disdain gone home with dirty clothes upon my back.

In those days, as I seem to recall, the racing was always great and I was always at the track early to see the cars come through the gate.

My life has been a scrapbook for races where I've been.

Sometimes my guy would lose one but more often he would win.

I had only the one favorite then and he could do no wrong,

that is the case still these days, as he keeps on keeping on.

But now I realize that just one man does not a race event make.

It takes many drivers, many crewmen and many others with a stake.

While there was a time I disliked the Allisons, I know now them as friends. And although Rex White is difficult to dislike, with him I made amends.

There are so many others, who come to mind from days gone by,

and so very many heroes now racing at that race track in the sky.

To give all they gave to the sport when the work was never-ending means the truth should win out without the stories bending.

I realize that looking back we see things as we thought they were back then. When racers were a family and all the fans a friend.

What it has become these days is so far from the roots,

it's difficult for a fan like me to even give two hoots.

I realize I'm no poet and have no other special talent really,

and some of you here tonight may think my babbling silly.

But, I wanted to put my thoughts in print to be read by those who care. Care about this history of racing as it was, and not the way it is portrayed these days where so few even care.

So thank you all for listening as an old man recalls his life. I'm still a proud American who thanks God for my children and my wife. And I won't forget those who serve who give that right to me. And I'll proudly stand up, next to you, and defend her still today. There ain't no doubt I love this land, GOD BLESS THE U.S.A.

Perhaps I should apologize to Lee Greenwood for stealing his words, but I have learned what a profound impact they have on those who serve. Twice last week, I sang the chorus of that song to a military person, one a Captain in the Army and the other a Veteran of Viet Nam. The rewards I received from those two people assure me that I'll do that from now on when I see a uniform.

As for NASCAR, if you really had a song I could believe in these days, I would sing your praises as well, and believe me, I want to. Too many good people built this sport to have it destroyed by incompetent individuals. Marty Robbins sang of the Twentieth Century Drifter and I wish that still were fact. I'll leave it at that.