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I doubt anyone is reading this column from the summit of Mt. Everest, or the Marianas Atoll, or the Sargasso Sea, and assuming this to be the case, I'm going to assume you know the Super Bowl is this Sunday.

With the exception of various and sundry NASCAR drivers, owners, crew chiefs, spotters, PR reps and media members jockeying for position in the pecking order of who loves the Carolina Panthers the most, the racing scene is pretty dead around here this week. Of course, there is one team, Furniture Row Racing, in Denver, so the Broncos have roughly as many adherents as Martin O'Malley in the Iowa Caucus.

Depending on the results of Sunday's Fiftieth Roman Numeral Classic, I'm expecting a prominent NASCAR driver to kidnap the Panther slogan, "Keep Pounding," any day now. Pit crews will "dab," which no longer means they will use Brylcreem. A victorious driver will dash across the track and give a tiny kid his crash helmet, and TV will record the awe-inspiring sight of the kid thinking, what do I do with this?

My experience is that race-car drivers are obsessed at least eighty percent of the time with driving race cars. Otherwise, they become vaguely aware of there being some big commotion about the local football team. Once the NASCAR season is over, they get offered suite tickets and have a good time yelling what the message boards suggest.

A few NASCAR drivers are genuine fans. The Busch brothers, I believe, genuinely pay attention to the Chicago Cubs. Matt Kenseth really loves the Green Bay Packers. Tony Stewart is bullish about all things Hoosier.

In general, racers gather around football teams in the same way they gather around presidential candidates whose policies the France Family endorses, with some allowances for one-race sponsorships in the Truck Series.

If the Panthers win, a brief period of Twitter celebration will be advanced by all NASCAR parties en route to Daytona Beach, and then Cam Newton becomes odds-on favorite to be the grand marshal of the Coca-Cola 600.