A letter on NASCAR and Chicago's wrecked relationship

In the run-up to NASCAR’s initial foray into Grant Park and the Loop, in 2023, Chicago Street Race president Julie Geise described the coming event as a “love letter” to the city.

It would be a talking point used by all those bringing auto racing to an urban population that hadn’t exactly been clamoring for it. Former mayor Lori Lightfoot also called it a “love letter.” On NBC, which televised the first two Cup Series races here before giving way to TNT this year, announcers leaned into the use of “love letter,” too.

That’s a whole lotta love. Ain’t it grand?

Alas, not so much if you don’t feel it in return.

After three years of this relationship, it’s time — beyond time — to write a “letter” back. This one’s on behalf of all the denizens of this great place who are feeling smothered, turned off or, worse yet, just plain bored.

Ahem:

It’s not you, NASCAR. It’s us.

Before you motored into our lives, we never knew we needed auto racing on our beloved lakefront. That’s because we didn’t need it. We speak baseball here. Football. Basketball. Hockey. Our teams might not be fluent in those languages, but we are. You say “drafting,” we think Colston Loveland. You say “banking,” we think Ricketts. You say “ovals,” we think White Sox box score. You say “restrictor plate,” we blink like idiots.

Do you see where we’re going with this? We need some space. Unfortunately, you kind of have this way of taking up the entire best part of downtown, forcing us to take weird, annoying alternate routes just to avoid you. We don’t want to have to behave that way ever, let alone for two whole weeks.

We’re just not feeling fireworks, if you know what we mean. And you do, because there were no fireworks downtown on the Fourth of July. Instead — sponsored by you — they took place on the Fifth of July, which isn’t even a holiday. That makes about as much sense as the Taste of Chicago happening in September. Was that a cheap shot? Sorry.

It’s just that we’ve grown apart. Or at least we’re trying to.

This really hot guy we know once said, “Life is experiencing new things.” That hot guy was Chicago Street Race grand marshal Derrick Rose, who was presented with a heavy leather jacket featuring the design of the Flag of Chicago to wear as he stood on the track on an 85-degree day and yelled, “Drivers, start your engines!” Were you trying to kill him or merely give him heatstroke? Because we don’t think either one is what he meant by “new things.”

The point is, we’ve got some new things we’d like to experience: old things. Old things like a souvlaki kebab, a giant turkey leg and some delicious lumpia enjoyed next to Buckingham Fountain in early July, as God intended. Old things like the lakefront being a picture-perfect postcard, not a Dale Earnhardt poster.

These last few years, things have been moving too fast. If only the same could be said about the cars on the race course. When they haven’t been sloshing around under torrential rain, they’ve been stuck interminably under caution flags. And that’s when you aren’t moving up a finish line by dozens of laps just to squeeze in an ending. Let’s just say it hasn’t quite taken our breath away.

But listen, maybe we can still be friends? Very distant ones.

One of your biggest old stars, Kevin Harvick, promised us a couple of years ago that things between us would work out beautifully.

“Once we get you out there in person, we won’t lose you,” he said.

Did you ever really even have us, though? We wonder.

You know, a lot of folks are saying you’re thinking about ending things, too. Is it true? Will your street-racin’ heart soon belong to some other city?

If so, it’ll probably be best for both of us. Who knows? Head on down the road and we might even miss you. Hey, you should come back someday. Maybe our timing will be better in five, 10, 50 years.

Until then: Don’t let the turkey leg hit you on the way out.

Shoot, that was harsher than we intended to be. Let’s try that again.

Later, y’all.