The Weekend Starts on Wednesday: True Stories of Remarkable NASCAR Fans is not your typical racing book.  Instead of analyzing our nation’s second-most watched sport through historic races or champion drivers, author Andrew Giangola explains the history and popularity of NASCAR through the eyes – and the converted school buses – of the fans.  Giangola scoured the NASCAR Sprint Cup Series circuit, sleeping in those buses, and finding fan stories that are hilarious and heart breaking. 

It’s no surprise that Texas Motor Speedway is the setting for some of the book’s most memorable tales of over-the-top fandom. 

Col. Doug Hurley, pilot of Space Shuttle Endeavour, went online for race updates – while moving at 17,500 mph in zero gravity 250 miles above earth.  When his feet are planted solidly on dry land, Hurley, who lives in League City, Texas, is a season ticket holder at Texas Motor Speedway.  Every time the circuit visits TMS, he enjoys Saturday night steaks at the motor coach of Joe Gibbs Racing crew chief Greg Zipadelli, who is married to his cousin Nanette. 

“I like being around Doug because he simply a great guy, fun to be with, and just incredibly passionate and intense about what he’s doing with the space program,” the two-time champion crew chief said. “He’s incredibly smart and could have done anything he set his heart to in life.  I have to say, going into outer space is probably the coolest thing he could have picked.”

Another passionate Texas Motor Speedway season ticket holder who is a resident of the Lone Star State and has led an extraordinary life is Dr. Diandra Leslie Pelecky, a Professor of Physics at the University of Texas at Dallas. 

“Watching a NASCAR race with Diandra is an experience I’d image to be like sitting in the stands with Albert Einstein,” Giangola writes.  “She is a human kaleidoscope of mathematical explanations, colorful observations, and travelogue commentary shedding light on the fascinating science behind every aspect of stock car racing.  At a race, Diandra is the proverbial kid in the candy store, if the owner had turned over the keys to the kids and bolted town.  NASCAR races are a large, loud science experiment, and the eagle-eye, sharp-as-a-tack professor has the run of the lab.”

In “Cookin’ on the High Side with Mario Batali and Rachael Ray,” the globally renowned uber-chefs take a late-night jaunt through Texas Motor Speedway infield prior to the Dickies 500, gunning a golf cart through the track’s throbbing shantytown of RVs, trailers, motor homes and repainted school buses. 

“We’re on a mission to find the real Americana,” Batali said, while on the back of the zigzagging cart, Rachael Ray laughed and blew kisses to fans shouting, “We love you, Rachael!”  Batali, a gregarious man with a heavy foot and military-strength radar for locating a good time regardless of the hour, eventually leads them to an amazing saloon constructed right in the infield near turn three. 

The following day local celebrity chef Tim Love joined Batali and Ray for “Ashphalt Chef,” a culinary battle at the track’s luxury condominiums.  The chefs were paired with Bobby Labonte, Juan Pablo Montoya, and Carl Edwards, respectively. 

Let’s join the story of our Asphalt Chefs in The Weekend Starts on Wednesday:

While a band played light Texas blues and well-heeled corporate guests and friends of the speedway settled into their chairs at the Lone Star Clubhouse, the cooks were told the secret ingredient – hot chili peppers.  A 20-minute time clock was activated, and the teams scrambled for their ingredients, fired up the grills, and began chopping and marinating.  Batali was paired with Juan Pablo Montoya, the Formula One superstar who had shocked the motorsports world by jumping to NASCAR.  Montoya looks sharp in his chef’s smock, though he’s not smiling, probably because he hates to lose, whether it’s the Daytona 500 or tiddlywinks, and who wants to get up in front of a group of rich people, out of your element, not  only losing but appearing foolish in the process.  Juan’s eyes are locked in concentration on a pepper he’s slicing.

Rachael Ray was matched with Carl Edwards, who informed his partner he doesn’t grill, can barely prepare toast, and pulls the cheese off his pizza as part of a health kick ruling out nearly all foods outside of soup.  “Carl tells me all this with a big smile on his face as if it’s good for our team,” Rachael later explains. 

Tim Love, toting a bottle of Crown Royal, cooked with fellow Texan Bobby Labonte.  The duo’s rib eye steak marinated in Coca-Cola with shrimp, cannoli beans, basil and chili peppers drew strong reviews. Bobby earned extra points for working his sponsor into the recipe.

The judges swallowed any concerns that blood from a grater-induced cut on Carl’s finger might have made it into his team’s dish. There had been a catch can at the bottom of the grater Carl didn’t see.  The driver was grinding the cheese with a strong sense of purpose but nothing came out. So he ground the cheese faster and harder.  Carl is one determined dude, and he finally just bore right into his finger.  The judges overlooked that and thoroughly enjoyed Carl and Rachael’s chili and spicy quesadillas, heavy on the onion and garlic.

But Mario and Juan Pablo ruled the night. Their winning dish was an impressively presented Vietnamese-Colombian surf and turf consisting of a flank steak with red curry and a summer roll featuring Napa cabbage with shrimp, chili peppers, scallions and cilantro cooked in orange juice.

Batali denied that the dish’s fancy name and multitude of ingredients contributed to yet another Iron Chef triumph.  “Juan Pablo and I won for three simple reasons,” he said in accepting a faux gold medal for his efforts.  “Tim was drinkin’, Carl was bleedin’ and we were cookin’.”

Despite Edwards’ cheese-grating mishap, the professional cooks were impressed by the NASCAR drivers’ determination and sportsmanship.  “These guys are not just danger mavens. They’re cool, and they’re real people, not like many celebrities today,” Batali said.  “I don’t care where you live or how much money you earn, I judge anyone by two things.  First is your attitude toward food – the ability to enjoy and share delicious things.  Second is the way you treat busboys.  I look at a lot of celebrities and they don’t make the cut by that standard.  NASCAR drivers do.”

Just as a friend introduced Mario to NASCAR, he was able to sell his good friend Rachael Ray on the sport. “I sincerely had the best time of my life at the track,” Ray said in the shred of her voice remaining.  “I’m just upset it took me 40 years to discover all this.  I’ll be back.”

Mario Batali and Rachael Ray are world-famous figures, wealthy beyond the dreams of most NASCAR fans.  Yet, they are celebrities of the people.  In the morning, they arrived at the racetrack in a private helicopter.  But by nightfall, they were among the fans, passing good jokes and better bottles of wine, and tearing it up in a golf cart on the way to the most extraordinary western saloon imaginable. They found the geometric center of the sport and are now proudly part of it.

“The Weekend Starts on Wednesday: True Stories of Remarkable NASCAR Fans” (Motorbooks, 304 pages with 99 color photos) will appear in stores Feb. 10.  It’s now available for preorder on amazon.com and the NASCAR.COM SuperStore.