COLUMN: A look at the fans from someone who's forgotten how to be one

DARLINGTON, S.C. - Every now and then, it's nice to take a leisurely walk on a gorgeous, sunswept day, the better to bond with the people who form the foundation of NASCAR.

No, not the motorcoach drivers.

The fans. The little people. The great unwashed. The heart and soul. The hoi polloi. The bread and butter. The meat and potatoes.

Or, in the words of NASCAR's gentry, the core audience. That's probably because the folks who run NASCAR no longer actually eat either bread and butter or meat and potatoes. Behind the scenes, they probably refer to the fans as "the wine and cheese." Maybe the artichoke hearts.

Here's what I learned:

Most fans wouldn't be caught dead wearing "gear" that is outdated. I truly was shocked at the incredible absence of year-old Dale Earnhardt Jr. Budweiser T-shirts. Fashion trends are actually important to NASCAR fans, even though they buy off the rack. There were families where the daddy wore National Guard, the wife wore Amp Energy Drink and the kids wore Mountain Dew. Junior leaving Budweiser could actually put a dent in alcoholism rates.

Unless, of course, the Kasey Kahne fans start running amok.

The cost-conscious NASCAR fan should consider sponsor longevity when determining the object of his manly affection. Jeff Gordon (DuPont) and Tony Stewart (Home Depot) have stood the test of time and given their fans the timeless luxury of wearing T-shirts and caps that don't become worthless overnight.

On the one hand, maybe you think Gordon is a pretty boy. On the other, it's OK to wear one of his T-shirts that isn't that pretty anymore.

Gordon fans, by the way, are loyal. Some wear Nicorette clothing ... while smoking.

To put it mildly, I think there were a few people wearing South Carolina and Clemson "gear" who didn't actually graduate from those institutions. Just a hunch. The fact that they were cooking speed in a bathtub had nothing to do with it.

It's a joke. A joke! My nephew is graduating from Clemson in December, and he's a fine young man. Coincidentally, he wasn't at Darlington Raceway on Saturday night.

Even if it hadn't been my job, though, I would've been. As much as I make light of the fans, I miss being one of them. Once upon a time, I came here just as defiant, just as unruly and just as boisterous.

I'm 16 years into writing about this sport for a living, and I barely remember what being a fan was like. That's to my detriment, not theirs.