My Addiction.

Hello, my name is Chris. I’m addicted to racing t-shirts.

I don't know how many I've had, probably hundreds. I can't count the number of times I'd come home from a race and seeing my mom shake her head at the sight of a bright, audacious, new shirt. To her, it meant yet another one of those ugly shirts to wash. For me, no race trip was complete without the purchase of a new shirt.

What would racing be like without the apparel? Certainly not nearly as colorful! My wardrobe would be a lot smaller. Even now, at least a third of my closet is taken up with race apparel.

There are the traditional brightly colored driver shirts. You know, the kind where the driver's first name is regular size, but his last name takes up at least a quarter of the design. Steve Kinser...The King...Bloomington, Indiana, or Doug Wolfgang...The Wolf...Sioux Falls, South Dakota, something about that just looks cool. Of course you need to have a sprinter or midget on there, doing a wheel-stand, with a rooster tail of dirt and flames shooting out of the headers. Complete the look with the driver's nickname, hometown, and state, and you got yourself the basic ingredients to a handsome shirt.

The louder the design, the better. Neon yellow? Yes! Hot orange? You got it! Does the green glow in the dark? It does? Perfect. That's not a joke, my dad and I have both purchased Steve Kinser shirts that glowed in the dark. Over the years the King has offered some of the best looking shirt designs.

There are those shirts that list past event winners. Growing up, I knew every Knoxville Nationals champion. It was easy to memorize because I could look at the back of the person in front of me, and memorize those names listed on his shirt.

I'm not quite as good as I used to be, but on a good day, I can still recite every Nationals winner. Who won the Nationals in '68? Glad you asked, it was Ray Lee Goodwin. What about '83? Why that was Sammy Swindell's only Knoxville Championship. Who was it in '97? Easy, Dave Blaney. Somewhere, my mom is rolling her eyes, and she's not sure why.

The Knoxville Nationals was like the Mecca of race t-shirts for me. The big teams would bring out fresh designs just for that weekend. For many years, my “first day of school” picture showed me in a bright, new shirt, purchased at the Nationals.

If I were to catalog my shirt collection, it would be a close race between the Lewis 9 midgets and the Casey Luna Ford teams for the title of having the most shirts. Sadly the days of watching those Ford powered machines are over. Casey Luna retired from owning cars, and Lewis racing switched to Toyota.

Is there such thing as owning too many race t-shirts? Never! In addition to my closet here in Lincoln, I have several totes filled to the brim back home. I was even given a quilt made from old t-shirts that proudly adorns my bed. You just can't get away from them!

Now that I've grown a little older, it's almost embarrassing to admit that my addiction has gotten worse. While my tastes have changed somewhat, I am a seasoned expert at finding shirts without which, I cannot survive.

I leave for Tulsa on Thursday, and it's a safe bet that I'll return home on Sunday with a couple more shirts to add to the collection. The addiction continues. Can’t anyone help me?