Imagine walking through the tunnel at an NFL stadium and casually spotting Roger Goodell deep in conversation with a fan.
Or picture yourself on the concourse at an NBA game, watching the commissioner chat with arena staff while players sign autographs just a few feet away.
It’s hard to imagine.
But in NASCAR, moments like that feel almost routine.
A walk through the NASCAR Cup Series garage before the eero 300 at Chicagoland Speedway reminded me why I love this sport. It also reminded me what sets NASCAR apart from so many other professional sports.
Passing through the garage, the biggest crowd had gathered around Carson Hocevar’s hauler. Towering above everyone, the charismatic driver smiled as he signed autographs, posed for photos, and spent time with fans. Everyone seemed genuinely happy, and Hocevar looked like he was enjoying every minute of it.
Scenes like this unfolded throughout the weekend. NASCAR fans have come to expect this kind of accessibility from drivers on race weekends, but it’s something that should never be taken for granted.
As I paused to take it all in, a thought crossed my mind:
“How many professional athletes can offer this kind of interaction with fans on game day?”
Continuing my walk, I noticed two people standing quietly beside a hauler, talking over a stack of racing tires. One wore a crew uniform. The other was dressed in khaki pants and a button-down shirt.
At first, I simply walked by.
Then I stopped.
I recognized one of them as Steve O’Donnell, CEO of NASCAR.
This wasn’t small talk. I passed that same spot more than once, and each time they were still engaged in a conversation that clearly mattered to both of them.
Again, I found myself thinking:
“Now that’s something you don’t often see in other professional sports.”
As I continued through the garage, engines roared to life while crew members worked beneath the hoods making last-minute adjustments. Fans watched with excitement and anticipation, knowing race time was drawing near.
Walking back toward the Fan Zone, I recognized another familiar face—Elton Sawyer, NASCAR’s Senior Vice President of Competition. He had stopped to chat with a fan. They were already walking away before I could take a photo, but witnessing the interaction made just as much of an impression.
Everywhere I looked, people were connecting.
Fans helped one another find their favorite drivers. Families shared stories while waiting in line. Crew members answered questions. Photos were being taken in the Fan Zone, around the merchandise haulers, during driver introductions, and even on pit road before the race. Enthusiasm seemed to fill every corner of the speedway.
By then, the significance of these seemingly small moments had begun to sink in.
Every one of these interactions—and countless others I witnessed throughout the weekend—takes place at NASCAR events across the country. For those of us fortunate enough to spend time in the garage, it’s easy to let these moments become routine.
But they aren’t routine.
They’re remarkable.
Yes, fans come to watch their favorite drivers compete. That’s an important part of the experience.
What I was reminded of at Chicagoland Speedway is that NASCAR represents so much more than racing.
It is a sport built on relationships.
Unlike any other major professional sport I’ve experienced, NASCAR embraces the people who make it possible—from the fans filling the grandstands to the drivers, crew members, officials, executives, media members, and volunteers who bring each race weekend to life.
No sporting experience is ever perfect, but what I witnessed at Chicagoland was something special: a culture built on accessibility, mutual respect, and genuine human connection.
As I left the garage that afternoon, I wasn’t thinking about lap times or race strategy.
I was thinking about people.
And that’s what NASCAR is really about.
