A Raceday in the Life: 2011 5-Hour Energy 500

A lot of you may have been wondering where the Dale guys began. Or perhaps, none of you actually give a fuck. Even further, am I just talking to myself?! Regardless, I'd love to tell a quick story of how the Dale guys were born one June morning in Eastern Pennsylvania. Since the born on date on the twitter was Richmond, Fall 2012, I only have pictures to keep the story going, so bear with me.

2011 was the season it all began. The year the 'A's plan of NASCAR Sundays finally took off as a junior in college. You see, the fundamentals of NASCAR Sunday is simple. Marlboro reds, a 12 of Budweiser, a couch, and a couple of rabid members of Junior nation. As the year got on, my excitement over the sport truly blossomed. I'm hooked, and I'm taking a couple of my closest buddies along with me.

Only problem is, I could only get two damn friends to head out to Pocono on June 12th of that year. Anyone know how many letters are in DALE?? Cause it ain't 3, it's 4. So, we called an audible race morning and the original '88!' guys were born.

Of course back then, the 'A' was the only one man enough to rock the jorts (still the same ones to this day).

Our day at Pocono pre-race was one of shock and awe. We spent half the time gawking at some of the amazing graphic tees and the other half explaining why we had painted our chests. You see, when this idea first came to mind, we'd be one of SEVERAL guys with their chests promoting their driver. Boy, was I wrong. This was the closest we saw to us.

Dale would go on to finish sixth that day, but with our driver needing a few hours to sober up, our fun was just beginning. We followed a couple of rednecks into the tunnel (one of them gave me a full tin of Wintergreen long cut, I'll never forget that), and the excitement had peaked. You know what they say about the grass being greener on the other side? Well, it was way greener in the infield.

I'll skip over us waiting for winner Jeff Gordbug to come out of the media room for two hours, We took a stroll to the tunnel turn, and then back. It must've taken four hours, because when we got back to the garage, we were the only ones left. AND I MEAN ONLY.

You guys know whats right on the other side of the garage area from the infield? That'd be the track! and victory lane, and pit road! I'll let some photos do some talking for a little.

We found the pace car (photo credit: some Pocono janitor)

Made it into the flag stand (photo credit: Some guy cleaning up TV gear)

It might not be Indy, but who wouldn't kiss the stripe. 

And finally, a look from victory lane.

What an epic experience. I feel like we're still riding the momentum of this day almost two and a half years later. I just went to my first race since the 1999 Pontiac Excitement 400 (Tony's first win) and I practically own the joint. I'll leave y'all with the ultimate roll credits picture, from what must have been the next day after all the shit we got to do post race.

PS: For those of you wondering, even though we had a couple of budding young fans that day, we knew exactly what to do when we saw the 18 machine in the midway area.