2011 H.A.M.B. Drag Nationals – Registered Yet?

Tank tops, trucker hats, and coozies filled the stands. Talent filled the field. This was a big event. Rodney “The Foot” Anderson was hooking up against Freddy “Downtown” Brown in the final elimination. The winner took the points and the Cranky Cup – given to the county’s fastest shoe. Both crews were coming off a swell day as neither had seen much less than a couple of car lengths at the finish line. Not a single witness to the day’s activities could spout a convincing argument in favor of one driver or another. Even the crack whore bookies of Vegas would stay away from this one.

Rodney Anderson was the first to the burnout box in his heavily worked over and self-made digger. He was running a crank blown Cad motor and seemed to be the fan favorite. He slammed the hand throttle in the right direction and watched the smoke pour from his tires in his peripheral. The fans jumped to their feet and Rodney showed his appreciation by smoking them a little longer than typical. He loved this shit.

“Downtown” Brown was indifferent. He pulled through the box in his all black digger sporting injected Chevy power, spun the tires for a few seconds, and then raised his middle finger to all that could take their eyes off of Rodney long enough to see. The crowd responded by bouncing their beer bottles off the safety wire lining the track.

“It don’t mean nothin,” Brown thought to himself.

The track’s flag man was a squirrelly fella that went by the name of Tiny. Any other day of the week, he was the awkward kid filled with indecision and slight personality. But Saturdays were his. He was the flag man that orchestrated violence and mayhem. He was cool.

Tiny got Anderson and Brown lined up, gave them both the ready sign, and then jumped as high as his little legs would allow. As he came down, he gracefully and dramatically brought the flags down with him. All hell broke loose soon afterwards.

From the fan’s perspective, all a fella could really see was white tire smoke. It was impossible to call the race one way or another, but everyone leaned out of their seats and strained their eyes towards the finish line anyhow.

The drivers didn’t have it much better. If he saw smoke, he was gonna lose. If he had clear air, he had a chance.

This one was close. Both Anderson and Brown saw nothing but blue sky and front runners off the line. Neither of them saw smoke and each thought they had it in the bag. That’s when things got weird…

Who will win the big race? Rodney “The Foot” Anderson or Freddy “Downtown” Brown? To find out, ya gotta attend the 2011 H.A.M.B. Drags – don’t ya know? Hold on to your roll bars race fans, cuz we are going racing, Racing, RACING!

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Um, yeah… Sorry, that’s the best I can do with the cheesy 1960’s drag commercial theme. The real point of this post? We are running out of registration spots for the 2011 H.A.M.B. Drags at an alarming rate. This is just a heads up – if you plan to race at the event, time to get off your ass and get registered. You do know this is a pre-registered only event, right?

What are you waiting for?

Get on it!