NASCAR town pride strong outside of Charlotte area

KOKOMO, Ind. -- A few years ago, 2005 to be exact, Tony Stewart told me to grab a pair of tennis shoes and he would show me what real racing was all about.

Well quite honestly, I thought covering the Allstate 400 at the Brickyard for the first time felt pretty darn real to me, but looking back ... yeah, I guess I didn't know much.

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Real racing, according to Stewart on that day, was in Kokomo.

Wait, Kokomo, Ind.? The town that's widely known for a strip club called the Hip Hugger; the same town that made national news for the "Kokomo Hum," an unexplainable, mysterious noise causing headaches in residents?

Yep, that was the town. Stewart was talking about the town that keeps a record-sized stuffed steer in its city park affectionately named Old Ben.

I never went to Kokomo that day; I had no interest, but I could've gained a greater appreciation for where many of NASCAR's Cup stars come from.

Anyway, I recently moved from Charlotte, N.C., clearly NASCAR's main hub, to the Midwestern town of Kokomo. Nervous I would lose touch with the sport, I've learned that's hardly the case.

In fact, I feel more connected to the sport's fan base than I did living in the self-proclaimed NASCAR capital of the world where I could see the sanctioning body's headquarters from my mid-rise condo and could hear construction crews building NASCAR's new Hall of Fame.

I say that because in uptown Charlotte, I felt fans were a bit closeted living in the bright and shiny banking community. They had to maintain the metropolitan attitude the city boasts and wouldn't be caught dead with a NASCAR decal in the rear window of their foreign import.

Kokomo emits a different feeling for a few reasons. A traditional factory town, it is home to some of the largest Chrysler plants and producers of the Dodge Charger transmission, so the NASCAR pride is outward. You'd be hard pressed to drive down U.S. 31 without seeing at least five vehicles not sporting a NASCAR decal. Numbers 20 and 12, of course, are prevalent, but the No. 88 still wins out.

Once word got out the town was hosting a NASCAR.COM reporter, the deputy sheriff hit me up for Bristol tickets, my doctor wanted a Stewart autograph and I received a second invitation to Kokomo Speedway.

More of that same outward pride and excitement is on display at my gym. I could hold an official drivers' meeting from the various Cup faces on T-shirts the members wear. (Continued)