As drivers’ hopes of making NASCAR’s Chase for the Cup dwindle, many of them are joining the Chase for Tail, an unsanctioned series in which NASCAR drivers with nothing better to do with themselves scramble for as much sweet action as they and their devoted lady-fans can handle in the final weeks of the season.

Trojan condoms, Jeremiah Weed sweet-tea vodka, and the family law practice of Preen, Upshall, Greenmints and Avorces are long-standing sponsors.  Wrangler jeans are the official jeans on the floor of the Chase for Tail, and climbing out a second story window is the standard conclusion to a CFT event.

Dale Earnhardt, Jr. is widely expected to win the Chase for Tail, despite switching his focus from the Chase for the Cup over to the Chase for Tail so late in the season.  Handicapper Butch Billingsley put it this way: “Only one guy at a time can get his lap back on the track, but at every bar, club, and senior high school he visits, Dale Jr. is a Lucky Dog.  Despite his late entry into the Chase for Tail, Junior has been pulling out early more than anyone on the circuit.”

Rules of the Chase for Tail are pretty simple, according to CFT superfan Fat Sandy Dirtburger.  “Instead of pouring ethanol into a racecar, you’re pouring it into a horny woman with a thong pulled so tight you could cut a pretty nice slice of Velveeta with it.  She teases a key to the ladies room from deep between her fake cleavage and away you go.”

Drivers qualify for the CFT by falling out of contention for the Chase for the Cup, but staying in the top 35 in owner’s points so they don’t have to worry about qualifying or practice conditions.  One driver confirmed, “You can’t be worried about your qualifying set-up when you are trying to get a bartender named Sheila to set up a round of Jager-bombs for girls whose first names all end in the letter ‘i’.  I can only focus on one Chase at a time.”

“That’s a delicate balance you have to preserve,” said Butch Billigsley.  “You have to be a good enough driver that you are recognizable even in the low lights of the local cougar hangout, but you don’t want to be so dedicated to your racing career that you never take the old unicycle out of the garage unless it’s for an Armor-All advertisement, ahem, Tony Stewart.”