Had an interesting conversation with a race car driver.
He was explaining the Nomex fire suit that Dale Earnhardt, Jr. wore when his Corvette burned at Infineon, last Sunday. All drivers wear them---three layers, in fact.
"Must get hot on a day like this," I suggested.
"It's already 140 degrees in the car," he told me. "Add the three layers,
I can lose eight pounds in a race. And I only weigh 145 pounds."
"So I suppose you get miffed when people say auto racing isn't a sport."
"Yep."
"I feel the same way about golf."
"Haven't taken golf up, yet, but I know I'll get addicted," he said.
The race car driver and I soon discovered that our two sports have plenty in common. They're both about staying in the moment, about precision, about small margins for error. "One bad swing, and it can cook my score," I said.
"One bad turn and my day is done."
"At least you don't have to worry about divots."
"No. Just the guys around me."
What I found most interesting, however, were the analogies we drew between driving ranges, a practice laps, actual golf games, and races on the course.
"In a practice lap, I can take the perfect line," he said. "There's no interference from other cars or drivers. But in a race, they get in my way, they mess my lines, and I haven't even factored in the pressure."
"Same with golf," I agreed. "On the range we can simulate problem situations, but there's no predicting what a golf ciourse will deal us...from trees, winds, lies, bounces, divots."
"And will the track dictate what kind of race you drive? The kinds of risks you take?"
"Absolutely," he said.
"Design makes a difference?"
"All the difference."
Someday, I'm going to take that guy golfing.