Ode to Moments

I love moments. 

I’m telling you, I savor moments. Many who know me would find this hard to believe. I take quick looks at the sunrise and the sunset. I absorb sweeping vistas and then return to the hike too quickly for my partner’s taste.

It’s not dismissive - far from it. I see it, feel it, register it…and then the savoring starts. In my own head, on my own time.

Like many (all?) other sports, motorsport is defined by moments. A snap of oversteer at corner exit. Can he save it or is he going around?

A team attempts an undercut on a rival just up the road. Can the pit crew execute and can the driver nail her out lap?

These were moments that I could savor from my own couch while watching cars hammer around a race track thousands of miles away and they were incredible, to be sure, but they are a vacant facsimile compared to being in a crowd of people reacting to the action playing out in front of them.

Go sit at Turn 1 for a race start. The tension hangs in the air. Hear the roar as metal and fuel and fire combine to generate gorgeous, spellbinding, visceral power. As the cars cannon toward you, feel the ripples in the crowd as you breathe together. Sharp inhales as drivers jockey for space. Exhales when a favorite racer finds some room. Oohs. Aahs. Finger pointing as carbon fiber splinters.

I know what you’re thinking.

Man says watching sports in a crowd is fun. Breaking news.

Well, yeah. But I’ve watched sports in a crowd before and it doesn’t FEEL like THIS. This feels different. 

For the life of me, I can’t put my finger on why. Why are these moments savored above and beyond others? Why are these my sunrises, my sunsets, my sweeping vistas? 

Some things need explaining - they crave description. But the more I immerse myself in these moments, the more I realize, this isn’t one of them. That’s good enough for me.

So I’ll just see you at Turn 1.