I like road-course racing.
I don't mind taking chances. Sometimes those chances get me in a loophole that's hard to get out of, but that's just me. That's my drive. That's my fire. That's who I am. That's who I want to be and who I feel like I am when I'm fast.
My dream car is a Saleen S7. It's made by Saleen in California; it's basically America's Ferrari.
Some people tell you, 'I'm your good luck charm - I've been to eight races in my life and you've won six of them' or something like that. So it's kind of like, 'Well, you need to come to more then!' Other times, fans just want to talk about previous times they've met you.
I'd say the late 70s were probably pretty cool. Obviously the cars weren't safe and the tracks weren't safe and all that stuff, but I think back then it was more about the driver.
Those people that are close to me understand me and know me and know who I am outside the race track as a person and a friend, and that's why I'm able to continue to have the relationships and the sponsorships that I do.
Certainly, different people show their emotions in different ways. Unfortunately for me, mine has never been very gracious and I don't know that it ever will be.
Obviously, you have to have some luck on your side to be successful.
For as much as I tend to run my mouth sometimes, I would have definitely stacked up better in the 1970s or the 1980s when there wasn't as much media or there wasn't as much publicity and sponsorship around the sport that you had to be PC for.
Once you get on to the racetrack on Sunday and you strap your helmet on and you come down especially toward the end of the race, it's every man for himself. It's me against the world. It's me against everybody else. Sometimes you're against your critics, as well, too.
Even though Richmond is a three-quarter mile, it's a fast short track... So it gives you - maybe you could call it a false of security a little bit, but it seems to be working for me.