About Us:

Motorsports have been part of my life for as long as I can remember. After losing my mother at the age of six, much of my childhood unfolded without her presence. It was my father who stepped in—doing everything he could to raise us right. A devoted motorsports enthusiast, he brought us to local races nearly every weekend. Saturday nights meant dirt tracks; Sundays were reserved for the dragstrip. That’s where I caught the racing bug—and I can assure you, there is no cure.

I still remember losing my first tooth at a racetrack, somewhere between the roar of the engines and the smell of burnt rubber. Today, as a lifelong fan and seasoned spectator, I’ve seen nearly every form of motorsport on the planet. But drag racing? That’s where my heart lives.

Over the years, I’ve watched the sport evolve—and not always for the better. Many of the elements that once made drag racing a visceral, unforgettable spectacle have quietly disappeared. Fire burnouts, dry hops, sharp throttle pops, and those long, smoky burnouts that used to light up the track and ignite the crowd—they’re fading fast. And with them, the soul of the sport is slipping away.

I get it. Performance is king now. Every second, every fraction of a second, matters. But here’s the uncomfortable truth: the relentless pursuit of speed is what’s killing drag racing.

The show has been sacrificed for the scoreboard.

If the sport continues down this path—where precision and numbers matter more than the fan experience—it risks becoming a spectacle without spectators. You can run a 3.5-second, 350 MPH pass, but if no one’s in the stands to see it, does it really matter? Once the crowd checks out, the money leaves with them.

That’s why I advocate for bringing back the long burnouts—not for nostalgia’s sake, but for the fans. Burnouts, unlike dry hops, are relatively easy on the clutch since the tires are spinning under little load. If a rule mandated extended burnouts past the 60-foot mark, the playing field would remain level. Tuners would adapt. And the fans? They’d go wild.

I’d bet anything that a half-track burnout would draw louder cheers than the cleanest record-setting run. If you’ve ever seen one of those fearless independents light it up, you know exactly what I mean. Give me a 4-second pass with showmanship over a sterile 3.5-second run any day. Sure, I can find that on the nostalgia circuit—but if enough spectators head that way with their entertainment dollars, where does that leave the big leagues?

This isn’t an attack on drag racing. I love this sport deeply. But it’s losing its magic. I don’t want to see it fade away in pursuit of perfection. I want to help bring back the fire—not just under the hood, but in the hearts of the fans.

It’s time to put some show back into the show.