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Given the prosperity of a NASCAR team based in Denver, Colorado, it’s not nearly as outrageous to buy a jar of salsa made in, uh, New York City!

I assume you’ve seen the commercials.

Given the success of Barney Visser’s Furniture Row team, and how it turns upside down what most other turns have learned over the past two decades, I can’t help but wonder if the Pettys now wish they’d never left Level Cross, the Wood Brothers Stuart, and the Elliotts Dawsonville.

It’s fashionable to answer every question by claiming times have changed. Oh, yeah, sure, the shop may be in Denver, and the engines may come from Toyota Central, and the cars may have to be delivered from Charlotte, but there’s something extra in Denver.

Maybe Adolph Coors really did find something mystical in the pure spring water he discover when he was prospecting for gold in … Golden. It’s been alleged there is creativity in all that legal weed.

This is all speculation, mind you, but what in the name of the late, great Dan Fogelberg is going on here?

Last Sunday in Sonoma – it’s Wine Country, you know – NASCAR’s Finest looked up after Martin Truex Jr. pitted, and they didn’t, and did the Homer Simpson.

D’oh!

As rednecks used to wear on the fronts of their caps in the Carolinas, Damifino.

In an age in which we are regularly assured that laser inspection, standardized air wrenches, everything controlled except the tires, and lugnuts that run for $10,000 a pop if they’re not properly tightened, it’s slightly refreshing that a team plying its trade in shocking isolation can not only win but induce head scratching.

Cole Pearn, a crew chief who apparently possesses the rare knack of being able to think clearly, might as well be Albert Einstein, or even Dave Chappelle.

Barney Visser built a team that has gone rogue. It’s roaming the territory that’s off the maps. The biggest unwritten rule in NASCAR is that if you try something new, it had better not work.

At least for now, NASCAR can’t do a damned thing about it.