I have now been at Salem College for a week and I can confirm that it is a completely different world. I've been on my own before--working with Camp Motorsport at Virginia International Raceway, traveling to France--but of course each place has something new to adjust to, and one tends to approach a change a little differently if it's going to be permanent.
My first night at school? It was Saturday and they were racing at Bowman Gray Stadium. I have yet to explore that scene, but there is no ignoring that it's there. There is no air conditioning in my building to speak of, so it's impossible to sleep without the windows open. I'd drift off while they were under caution at Bowman Gray and, with the all those powerful engines revving in my ear, snap awake again as they went back to green. Well, I can't sleep through that...guess I have no choice but to be at the track for it from now on.
The real problem is this: before I left, I knew I'd have to figure out how to keep up with the racing world without a TV. Oh, sure, there's one in the basement of my residence hall--but it's the biggest residence hall and therefore almost always occupied. I'm still looking into streaming it on the internet. (Advice there would be much appreciated.) But for the Grand Prix of Baltimore, my time was occupied with other (less important) things and I was limited to the radio broadcast. That was an experience all on its own.
It's a common enough thing, I know. Most people's lives can't revolve around sports, but many people wish theirs could. I'm not the first person to put on headphones and check out of my surroundings, my face scrunched up in concentration, answering in short bits of nonsense to people who try to talk to me. And anyone who watched the Grand Prix of Baltimore would know I often had reason to suddenly shout or suck in my breath. That's always fun in public, of course! (When people look at you, just shake your head and say, "Sports." I think that does the trick.)
But a whole race on the radio? I might as well have gone blind. I thought of the family I get to see every May in Indianapolis, who don't go to the race and have to listen to the radio coverage because of the blackout. How could I stand to miss seeing any part of it? When I'm at a race, I don't leave my seat for any reason and I never have. But as I watched the minutes roll closer and closer to 2 pm on Sunday, I realized I had to follow this race live. I've been ridiculously busy this season and I was tired of letting it all unfold and hearing about it after the fact.
Yes, I wish I could have watched it with my own eyes. But it turns out, there are some advantages to getting the details from the radio. The bottom line is that I was surprisingly happy just to be hearing the familiar sounds and voices even when I couldn't see them. You know when people say radio is better than TV because it forces you to form your own picture of the situation? Without being able to see anything, the musical sound of race cars exiting the pits was all the more vivid. It was also easier to keep track of the running order, especially during restarts; I have a tendency to ignore the announcers and I can't always see the action as clearly as I would like.
But in such a visual world, sound seems a flimsy means of communication at times. It was pouring in Winston-Salem, so a flood alarm popped up on my phone and killed the radio broadcast with only a few laps to go. I was seething. In that moment--um, no, that warning was not trying to keep me safe! It was all part of a conspiracy to deny me access to the racing world!
Honestly, there's only one legitimate drawback. But it's a real drawback. It is a huge, major, gigantic drawback. Most of the time, I had a better idea of what was going on because I relied solely on the announcers. BUT--and if you watched, you know--there were several questionable occurrences in this race, and without seeing it, I couldn't form my own opinion on what happened. I could only go by the thoughts of those calling the race. On Sunday, I missed being able to rewind the incidents as many times as necessary and pinpoint who started it and when, perhaps arguing about it with whoever was watching with me. It's important to gather and clarify my own thoughts about those things, especially because I sometimes disagree with what the announcers are saying. I only had their voices, plus the opinions flitting around the Twittersphere. I couldn't contribute to any conversation until I had seen the footage myself.
In the end, I'm glad I got to experience the Grand Prix of Baltimore on the radio. It made me feel like part of something. It was always easy to sit down and watch racing at home. Now I'm one of those always-busy college kids, and sometimes I have things to do on Sunday afternoons. But I can still find a way to be close to the sport I love. I walked through Winston-Salem on Sunday with my headphones on and my brain in Baltimore, still supporting my series and my drivers while carrying on in my own little space. No matter where I am in a few years' time, my passion for auto racing will whisper into my ear just like the radio broadcast on Sunday. Regardless of where I end up, I'll never have to be apart from it.
