Alexander Rossi explaining how it All Slipped Away from him Sunday, during the Sonoma Post-race Interviews. (Image source: oilpressure.wordpress.com)
It's Football Night in Americre', Check. It's RASSCAR' Playoffs time Baby, Check. Uhm, it's Championship weekend for Indy Cars, is this thingy' On? Check 1-2-3...
It's funny the range 'O emotions I felt this past Sunday, after waiting in anticipation the whole day to watch; Err listen to the IndyCar season finale from Sonoma...
As I'm gonna try to write this story with only one web link included, since it relates massively to life in general for us Few Blind Motor Racing Aficionados.
Whale' Otay Race Fans, may be one Day I'll write; Uhm scribble a No Fenders story with zero links embedded in it. But not today, as there's actually two links that are intertwined with this story and the Cacophony of emotions I experienced over what Leigh Diffey Hammered into our Heads as Championship weekend, Spew!
As my emotional Rollercoaster syncs up perfectly with that oft, overplayed ABC Wide World 'O Sports TV Intro theme tease, Y'all know, "The Thrill 'O Victory, thee Agony of Defeat!"
As I began Saturday morning by listening to my NFB Newsline for The Blind telephone service, plodding thru my Daily News-trawl, including The Guardian's World News section, where I listened to a very poignant story about life as a former Refugee returning to the Camps three decades later...
As I found this a very sobering way to begin the morning, thinking to Thyself how lucky I am ultimately as an American, to have the luxury of living Solo in my very own Bungalow, and being afforded the luxury of having Cable TV to watch motor racing in general.
From there, after eating breakfast and cheerfully "surfing" thou morning away, awaiting IndyCar qualifying from "Sleepy Hollow," nee Snorhoma, or officially known as Sonoma, which I still recall the thrill of my first visit Thar', running outside from the Watering Hole we were frequenting to the rumble of FoMoCo' motivated cars, specifically cobra's rumbling around the town's square over two decades ago...
I marveled over the simplicity of basking in the ability of having the Indycar.com live Timing & Scoring webpage not Dump upon Mwah once and getting to enjoy listening to the unbridled enthusiasm of thee "Viking," aka Anders Krohn giggling thru the entire Quali' show over the Beatdown Patricio O'Ward was displaying during his IndyCar Debut.
As I spent the entire live Internetz' Broadcast crowing out loud to Thyself that O'Ward's simply a BAD ASS HOMBRE! And I was so excited over his outstanding debut, that I decided to watch; Err listen to the entire qualifying segment a second time via the delayed TV Broadcast upon NBC Sports, since I really enjoy 'Ol PT's, nee Paul Tracy's No Nonsense commenting.
As I was curious to see how they'd call the Qualie' vs. the IMS Radio Broadcast. For which I enjoyed how much more the IMS Gang was able to interview Drivers vs. cutting to the obligatory raft 'O television commercials. Ambling off for dinner with a glow upon thou face over how exciting the reigning Indy Lights Champion Pato' was for me.
Hence I spent all day Sunday morning waiting in anticipation, hoping for the unlikely to happen, Na, SHIT! I don't mean when I accidently didn't get Lucy', My ARSE-Steamed Screen Reader turned off before reading me the headline results of who'd won the Formula 1 race; SHEISA!
Nope, I was hoping for who Paul Tracy would later call a "Cat on a Hot Tin roof!" Nee Alexander Rossi pulling off the upset by defeating Scott Dixon for this year's IndyCar Crown, which my Gut told me wouldn't happen.
Yet my Foopah before noon seemingly was a Harvenger 'O Things to come, since I already knew it's never good to have an IndyCar race preceded by RASSCAR', SHIT! Ah FUCK! Here we go again, as gee Kiddies', Thar going long, since they cannot keep from running into each other for more than four laps at a time, ergo, playing Bumpercars thru the start of the IndyCar race; FUCK-FUCK-FUCK!
As I just sat Dumbstruck over the Freakin' Roundy-round Bombers runnin' late and causing us to inexplicably miss the start of the IndyCar season finale. Arguably the most crucial start of the season, Eh?
An being that my Cable TV Service is relatively brand new to Mwah, not even a month old yet, I simply didn't know what Bleepin' channel CNBC was on, and thus was stuck listening to the drone 'O NASCAR while the IndyCar race was in action... Before scamperin' to Thy Kitchen's 'Ol School telephone to hurriedly Dial-up my Zapp2it' TV Guide and find out what channel CNBC was so I didn't have to listen to any more of that aggravating NASCAR Dribble; SHIT! Since we simply bounced into the IndyCar race already in progress at 3:48PM Pacific BASTARDOS!
and then how much time, time, Deal with It! Uhm, how many laps did I miss whilst trying to find out what channel CNBC is on? fuming the whole time repeatedly saying you've got to be Fucking Kidding! As NBC definitely gets a 15-yard penalty and loss of Down for Intentional Grounding of the Indy Cars Season Finale!
But N-O Buckaroos', the Show didn't stop there, as I had zero interest in the encore presentation of the Singapore Grand Prix and decided to listen to Speed Freaks instead. but SHIT! Since we're in Football season now, they're relegated to Backwater status and only available on the Internetz' via tumbler, nee tune-in radio, which typically takes me seven or eight minutes of repeatedly refreshing the page's link in order to hear the tinny, crappy constantly modulating volume web broadcast begin. For which I immediately quit after hearing Scott Dixon's interview...
Yet even as my Angst, or what those Bloody Brits call Agro' simmered late into the night, I realize how silly I'm being compaired to everybody suffering from Hurricane Florence, so ironically named, since that's where I'm residing now.
Yet I simply am venting my frustrations as a Blind person, since it's Uber Annoying how much we're not able to See, and hence how much we Miss for a variety of reasons, since "My Gal" Lucy', my Screen Reader can only read me whatever websites are built robustly enough to allow her easy interface access...
which makes it even more impressive that a Blind female Paralympics Athlete's preparing to contest the upcoming Dancing With The Stars season, for which I was totally unaware of before Snowbyrd MJ' informed me of this.
You see, Danelle Umstead, a multiple medal winning Paralympics Skier suffers from the very same eye disease your Humble No Fenders Scribe is afflicted by. It's called Retinitis Pigmentosa, or RP for short. And I'm just super, super impressed by Danelle's courage and fortitude to agree to participate on Dancing With the Stars, and hope she and her Russian Dancing partner do well overall!
As I encourage Y'all to check out the link below, which gives just a brief insight to the challenges of life for Blind people in general, which somehow makes the whole Day's Bungled Motorsports Broadcasts outing a tad bit inconsequential, Eh?
Now if I could only S-e-E where the Bloody Speelchequor is; Oh Never Mind!