A Racing Family Comes Full Circle: Taking My Daughter To Her First NASCAR Race

Although I currently cover NASCAR as my profession, my passion for the sport runs deep into my family roots. Dating back to the 1940s, my family raced cars and relatives went to races as their hobby, their love and their life.

That tradition was instilled on me when I attended my first stock car race at Five Flags Speedway in Pensacola, Fla. at age 3. Since that day, I have been going to races, watching them on television and now channeling that passion into the coverage I bring to my readers.

Categorized into what many would call the “citizen journalist” group, I understand that passion should not influence my role as a journalist in any way. Yet when the NASCAR schedule rolled into my backyard in Charlotte, I jumped at the opportunity to shed the credential for one night, purchase a ticket to the Nationwide Series race and bring the thrill of NASCAR to the next generation of my family – my nearly 3-year-old daughter, Abigail.

This was not Abigail’s first visit to a race track, though. She had been to the Summer Shootout Series and watched Legends cars and Bandoleros. She accompanied my fiancée Courtney and I to the famed Bowman Gray Stadium. She even went to last year’s NASCAR Sprint Cup Series race at Martinsville Speedway – only to have it rained out.

I met Courtney, Abigail and a family friend for the end of Sprint Cup Series qualifying for the Coca-Cola 600 two nights before. But we missed much of the action that night and Abigail wanted more.

So with the afternoon free and Courtney at work, I had our babysitter drop Abigail off at the track just as the flyover screamed past for the 300-mile Nationwide Series race at Charlotte.

I had been to countless races in my day, but had no idea what to expect as we parked the car and walked toward the track. Not only was I used to covering nearly every second of every race or watching intently as a child, but I had never taken a still-in-potty-training, hard-to-keep-still 3-year-old to a race by myself.

Plus, it was 85 degrees in the direct sun. What was I in for?

Proudly waving her green flag she got that rainy day in Martinsville, Abigail beamed with excitement as she could hear the cars roaring inside the confines of the track. Full of questions, I did my best to answer why the cars were so loud and why they were going so fast – this before we even made it to our seats.

With our tickets in hand, we first bought a pair of headphones that would fit her properly. We had tried my scanner headphones in the past, but that never worked – she always pulled them right off. Finding a pair that fit her just right, we headed down to the Ford section E, row 15.

Prior to becoming a writer, this was my favorite place to watch a race at Charlotte Motor Speedway. The way the field screams toward you on a restart, the speed of the cars roaring into the corners, the exit of pit road directly across from us. This is what I wanted Abigail to experience.

It would have been nice to take Abigail to the same seats where I saw my first Charlotte race in 1992, but unfortunately, those seats affectionately known as the ‘chicken bones’ section – three rows from the bottom, right behind the start-finish line – are now off limits.

Making our way through the crowd in our row, we settled in just as the field lined up for a restart after the a competition caution.

Holding her in my arms, we stood to see the restart. The field roared past us and into the corner. With the wind blowing her hair, Abigail was all smiles and laughing as we followed the cars around the track and right back towards us. Watching her, I could tell she felt the rush of the cars throughout her body, realizing this was like nothing else she had ever experienced in person.

Aside from a few trips to the bathroom – and to get some pizza, ice cream and a stuffed doll of the track mascot, Lug Nut – Abigail and I sat through the entire race, which was quite the feat for someone her age. When my brother attended his first race at Charlotte (in the ‘chicken bones’ section), he fell asleep and woke up when there was a caution. I was thoroughly impressed with my daughter and could not have been any more proud.

We stood together as the laps wound down and Carl Edwards and Matt Kenseth battled for the lead. I did my best to point to where she should watch. When it was over she clapped, waved her flag and asked why they were done.

Nearly a complete 200-lap race, and she still wanted more.

Too often in life, I get caught up with all that needs to be done with my work and travel. Nothing made me happier than to share something I have loved for nearly all my life with my young daughter.

As a child, I had a wonderful set of parents and a loving aunt that would drive me from our home in New Jersey to places like Charlotte, Bristol, Daytona, Dover, Mobile, Pensacola and Watkins Glen – often multiple times a year – just for my love of racing.

Those were some of my best memories growing up and have shaped the career path I have chosen as an adult. Taking Abigail to this race was my way of carrying that tradition on to the next generation of my family and sharing something special with someone who means the world to me.