Great article Danny, and it touched on something that I (and I'm sure many others) battle with at this time every year. I used to race myself. I bought into the whole thing hook line and sinker as a kid watching sprints at Marion Speedway in Marion, IL, then warmed planks at Godfrey and Granite City until 1988 when I first strapped into my '71 Buick Skylark bomber. Many years later, I finally got into a sprint car. It was pure joy. I'm older now, but right about now, every year, without fail, no matter how hard I try to fight it, I check the classifieds, and come within a heartbeat of buying another car. My 42 year old mind says I can do it despite the complaints of my 42 year old body. But more than that, my mind (up until this point, and it's a battle) wins by trumping the thought with the fact that I am a husband, and a father of two boys who need me more than I feel I need a to drive a sprint car. I understand your points regarding the young guys racing sprint cars, but way more than that, I question the guy who has a family who counts on him to bring home a paycheck so they can have food and shelter, and perhaps a college fund, or even a real vacation, but still straps in and risks it all on a Saturday night. I know what it is like to have that dream, I lived it, loved it, and still want it. But it in no way can be argued to be worth missing out on your kids' future, or risking letting them down because of that "need" to race. So perhaps the arguement could also be approached from the angle of "how old is too old?"