From the pits of a champ

HOMESTEAD, Fla. -- One of my favorite sports moments ever came during the first round of the 2000 NBA Slam Dunk Contest when upon completing another "nobody else in the world can come anywhere close to that" jam, Vince Carter looked right at the camera and declared what everyone watching knew to be true -- that the event was indeed over. All other dunkers were vying for second place.

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These days whenever I'm absolutely sure of the outcome of any sporting event I simply pull a "Vince" and mentally end any possibility of an improbable outcome. Unfortunately, I'm not Vince Carter and therefore this cavalier attitude has burned me in the past. Still, following his sizzling performance in the desert last week I gave Jimmie Johnson the "Vince" stamp of approval and decided to spend the hour before the Homestead race trying to wrest some sort of clue from the 48 team that would lead me to the secret of their success.

I posted myself at the 48 team's pit stall 60 minutes before the start of Sunday's race at Homestead and what follows is a moment-by-moment account of what I saw.

2:36 p.m. -- En route to the pits I see eight cameras huddled around one hauler and nary another camera in sight. Surprise -- it's the 48 hauler. Apparently, the networks have pulled a "Vince" as well.

2:47 p.m. -- I've walked past every single stall and each team has at least one crew member on site in attendance. Maybe they're sweeping the stall, or just stretching, but someone is there. When I arrive at the 48 team's pit box there isn't a person in sight. It's a ghost town. Are they pulling a "Vince" or perhaps this is just a ploy to intimidate the other teams?

2:48 p.m. -- "Maybe I'll just have a look around this place and see if I can uncover any secrets on my own [subtly look left, subtly look right]. Now seems like as good a time as any," I think to myself. Quickly I stumble upon a nugget or maybe it's just a nugget fragment or nugget dust, but if you want to clean your probe box like the two-time champ's team here are the step by step instructions -- and I am quoting here:

1. Clean off pressure lube.
2. Inspect top rubber seal.
3. Inspect bellows for holes.
4. Spray top and inside with silicone spray.
5. Lightly spray bellow with silicone spray.

Is this the magic formula for championships some sort of secret code? Could this be the type of thing Chad Knaus cranks out on a Tuesday at 1 a.m. in January from his dimly lit racing lair that pays off with championships in November? Somehow I doubt it, but for those of you who clean probe boxes, I hope you find this useful.

2:50 p.m. -- Next door in Jeff Gordon's stall four crew members prepare for the race, but there is still nobody in the 48 stall. What's going on here? Are they still in homeroom and haven't been dismissed?

2:52 p.m. -- With nobody to entertain me my eyes begin to wander. I notice that atop the 24 and 48 pit boxes all the seats are unmarked save one leather chair in each that bears the signature of the puppet master, Rick Hendrick.

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.

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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.