DECEMBER 2021 69
equipment, fans pass around communal foods. At the
West Virginia Motor Speedway, Nancy Sprouse is known
for providing chili and summer sausage made from veni-
son Frank bagged during deer season.
As warm as the sense of community around the sport
can be, Sprouse still lives its contradictions every day:
Within this same culture comes the abuse he hears from
fans. And it allows for the sides of his car to be barren.
Most dirt track circuits continue to permit fans to display
the Confederate banner—a reminder that, for all NASCAR’s
corporate starch, there is good reason for some of its rules.
After the last race of the season, Dustin Sprouse will go
back into the garage and tinker with his car. For all the
obstacles in his way, when he takes inventory of his season,
he smiles. “I’m low-cost. I’m taking used bars, stuff from
people, and I’m competing with these guys...and they’re
out there in $100,000 cars and stuff?” He laughs at the
tableau, imagining his competition. “There’s a gay male
with used and borrowed stuff from people, and he’s [ahead of]
me. What’s in their mind? That’s what the real question is.”
And that leads him to look ahead to 2022 and audition
some playful trash talk: “Your straight butts are chasing my
gay butt around the racetrack. ’Cause I’m beating you.”
fans hold as they f ilm the races. And sometimes not. After
plenty of dirt races, cars leave the track bearing the paint
and tire tracks of their competitors. Or dented like the
crushed cans—beer, Red Bull, mostly Mountain Dew—
arrayed on the Raceway Park grounds.
For better and sometimes worse, it’s a freewheeling
alternative for the legion of racing fans who have grown
tired of—and even feel betrayed by—NASCAR’s rules and
regulations, many of which have tried to level the playing
field but ultimately, fans complain, made cars indistin-
guishable. NASCAR drivers win races and dutifully thank
the corporate supporters. Dirt track racers win races and
make comments like the one Carpenter issued last year
after winning a big race: “I didn’t come here to f--- around.”
This same, shall we say, accessibility is obvious at events.
Weekend grounds passes go for $50 or so, to be amortized
over dozens of heats and races. Fans recognize one another
from races in other states. There is an unmistakable
warmth. Just as drivers swap parts and lend one another
BODY LANGUAGE
Just as the text on Sprouse’s bumper speaks
volumes, so does the lack of ads on his car.