I don’t have cable, so I didn’t get to see the race. So that’s my commentary on that. Instead, I offer this: an Ode to Miss Sprint Cup.
Shiny hair dark as night
Smile like a searchlight
Warm eyes glowing
Would that your jumpsuit
Left more skin showing
Errr. . . You know my haiku skills are a little better than my rhyming skills. Let’s try this instead.
Wink to me trophy girl
Damn sponsorship obligations
Show me that you care
Oh, let’s be honest here. The main reason I’m watching these races isn’t to blog them, but because I’m totally hot for Miss Sprint Cup, Monica Palumbo. My recurring fantasy involves dousing her in champagne while undoing her Sprint Cup jumpsuit. “Ah, yes Monica. You’ve won and the champagne is all for you this time. Oops, your zipper has come undone.” Watching her take collateral celebration fallout, while trying to stay in the TV picture and flash her beautiful smile is about close as I’m going to get to that in real life. A zillion segments on Junior, and Fox can’t do one fluff interview with Monica. I may never really know anything about her. She did wink to me once in Victory Lane. I cherish that memory.
I hate to pick favorites. Anne-Marie Rhodes, the other Sprint Girl, is nice, but she appears to be married or engaged. Further, Tony Stewart made out with her after one of his Indy victories. (I’ve seen the pictures! She seemed surprised by the affection.)
The trophy girl is an outdated concept. There is no real place for it in today’s politically correct and morally ambiguous world. The drivers don’t even get a kiss anymore. I’m not even sure they’re allowed to talk to the drivers after what happened between Jeff Gordon and Brooke. Sprint would probably be better served promotion-wise by some goofy, child-friendly mascot character. (A gopher perhaps?)
But do you remember Nextel’s ill-fated tenure as title sponsor? There was no trophy girl. Sure, you only consciously missed it once or twice, but in the back of your mind, Victory Lane just seemed to be missing something. It’s inescapable. It’s history and tradition, for better or worse. Even if it’s Danica Patrick winning the Daytona 500 someday (however unlikely), there still has to be a trophy girl there with her. And if Danica and Monica want to kiss on stage, I . . . errr. . .
Monica, if you’re doing a vanity search and somehow stumble on this post (I’ve had that happen before), please know that I have nothing but the highest respect for you and job. Umm. . . How about an autographed picture? “To my favorite blogger, jdh417, xoxo (smooches) Monica.”
J.
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