Yet, here I am on the couch, cup of joe in hand and glued to the telly. Why? It's the first Formula 1 race of the 2010 season - the Bahrain Grand Prix.
I've always had a strange relationship with this pinnacle of motorsports. Even after ten-plus years of viewing, I only have an elementary knowledge of half the drivers (except mein herr Michael Schumacher, of course), the politics off-track or the rivalries on it. I've never even made it to La Belle Province to take in the grandeur of a race weekend.
None of that matters though. There's something about F1 that draws me in. Yes, foremost it’s the sound, speed and skill on display each week. It’s chicken soup of the gearhead's soul.
But my attraction to the series, which celebrates its 60th birthday this year, goes beyond that. Though some detest it, I’m partial to the pomp and pageantry around the events - the air of wealth and ceremony around the paddock. In F1 - for better or worse - everyone acts as if they’re involved in the most important sport in the world.
I've always been taken by the exotic locales the series visits too: Australia, Japan, Brazil, Italy, Belgium, Korea. F1's ability to be truly global gives it a gravity NASCAR et al lack. Not to gloat, but I actually had the opportunity to walk the entire Monaco circuit a few February's back while on a press junket - a truly memorable experience, and yes that hairpin at Turn 6 is as just as wild in real life as it looks on TV - and it's a public road no less.
The far-flung venues also mean watching races at odd hours, which just adds to the appeal for me: no Blackberrys or telemarketers, just me and TSN. Actually, the latter is what inspired me to write this blog in the first place. Canada's cable sports network has been a longtime supporter of F1. This season it's even using an unconventional split-screen to air commercials without cutting away from the on-track action. A testament to how quickly things change at the circuit and how fanatical F1 aficionado are.
I rarely make it to the checkered flag these days. The demands of everyday life take priority: housework over Hamilton, shopping over Schumacher. I make no bones about this though - as long as, for a few fleeting hours each Sunday, I can immerse myself in a high-octane sport that continually fuels my automotive passions.








