I wasn't watching Sunday, but I heard, via Twitter, about Dan Weldon's death at Las Vegas on an oval track where Nascar races. It's horrible to realize a young man with two small children died in the cause of entertaining race fans. I tell myself he was a racer, that no one forced him into the driver's seat, that he knew the risks.
Doesn't help. While football players get injured, some seriously, and basketball players blow out knees, they don't die going 220 mph to collect a paycheck. I wonder if I'm enamoured with a sport that encourages the bloodthirsty and crashmomgers to cheer big wrecks. I will never understand how anyone can take joy in devastation suffered on the track, or the first time I watched as cars careened into safer barriers and each other. No, I'm not a wreck-lover.
Such a sad day.