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From the pits of a champ (cont'd)
2:54 p.m. -- Cool as a Malibu breeze, the first member of the 48 team sashays into the stall. It's Brandon Evans, an engineer followed closely by jackman Kenneth Purcell and catch can man Mike Knauer. Their walk is about as purposeful as my gait when taking out the trash. Clearly all work and no play makes the 48 team a bunch of dull boys -- or so they think. Somehow, I like their attitude though.

With little fanfare before his entry to Cup and now with back-to-back championships, David Caraviello says Jimmie Johnson may be the sport's most impressive discovery.
2:59 p.m. -- Rear tire changer Tim Ladyga fires up the Samsung HDTV while Knauer re-tapes the pit box in a fluorescent yellow not often seen in nature. I don my shades for protection.
3:00 p.m. -- Every tire in Jimmie's pit box is stamped with the numbers 5, 25, 24 and 48 in that order. New stamps will need to be ordered after the race but I don't worry too much about Mr. Hendrick's ability to fund this purchase.
3:02 p.m. -- It is hot, hot, hot out here. Evans admits to me that he wouldn't mind seeing it "a little cooler outside." I then ask him about any excitement or adrenaline that could be running through the team's veins. "It's just business as usual," he says fresh from a NASCAR PR training class. "We're not gonna change a thing." Then he smiles, indicating the obvious -- the day a team wins its second consecutive championship is anything but "business as usual."
3:05 p.m. -- As the latest rap tune that I can't identify blares from the 48 team's pit box, a cart with that same number strolls up bearing Oatmeal Creme Pies and Goldfish crackers. Obviously, the race is nearing.
3:09 p.m. -- Celebrity sighting: New Yankees manager Joe Girardi and his son Dante climb atop the 48 team's pit stand to see what a champion's view looks like. Perhaps this will come in handy in 11 months. Girardi stops by to chat and I ask him what he's doing at the track today. "I'm not working now and it's my son's birthday," he says. "Dante is a big Dale Jr. fan and he got to meet him so obviously it was a big day. He was a bit star struck at first but after a bit, he was good." This was all part of Dante's sixth birthday present so happy birthday Dante Girardi! The Girardis received some parting gifts from team 48 including some lug nuts. If I remember correctly, six is the tradition year for giving children lug nuts.
3:17 p.m. -- Gasoline arrives -- three tanks marked "Ford 400, J. Johnson, 260 GTX Unleaded." Good, we can race now. I'm told by a member of Kyle Busch's crew who's loitering in the 48 stall that each of the fuel tanks weighs 90 pounds.
3:26 p.m. -- The crowd goes bananas. It's Dale Jr. in the bed of a pickup riding around the track waving to the crowd. Someone from the Hendrick stalls says under his breath, "He won't be wearing that red much longer."
3:34 p.m. -- The team has finished half of a 4-pound bucket of "red vines." They appear to be some sort of plastic licorice that I would enjoy if I were, say, 4 years old. Perhaps these frightful red snack sticks are champion fuel.
3:39 p.m. -- It's getting packed with onlookers down by the 48 team's pit stall and the gang appears to be getting testy. Maybe they're champing at the bit or maybe it's the "red vines."
3:42 p.m. -- The national anthem is followed by a team huddle then on "break" the 48 and 24 teams give each other high fives and begin a friendly game of trash talking. This is getting good.
3:48 p.m. -- Time to practice changing lug nuts for Ladyga on a fake wheel attached to the pit box. It's like watching a ripped middleweight on the speed bag. Visually, it's stunning.
3:49 p.m. -- The lug nut practice was not as stunning, however, as the arrival of Jimmie's wife Chandra on the scene. The world is slightly better now.
3:52 p.m. -- The air cools as the genius (some would say evil genius) Chad Knaus arrives on the scene. His only words to his crew -- "Are you ready?" I'll let you guess what the answer was, but first I'll give you a hint. For two consecutive seasons the answer has been the same.
Knaus pumps fists with Chandra Johnson and the inevitable march toward history commences.
The opinions expressed are solely those of the writer.