America is all about speed. Hot, nasty, badass speed.”

— Eleanor Roosevelt, as quoted in 2006’s “Talladega Nights.” This is a scene guaranteed at least several times a week on any given stretch of road.

Cars are backed up, moving slowly to catch a glimpse of the mangled, freshly wrecked automobile ahead.

Our love for twisted metal is no foil to the ancient Romans’ love of bloody combat in the afternoon at the Colosseum. It also explains the nation within a nation that is the NASCAR nation.

Earlier this week, I was handed my biggest and most important assignment of my young journalistic career: Go and cover NASCAR’s goings-on this weekend at the Kansas Speedway.

What will transpire likely will not be a black-and-white, who won-who lost ordeal, but instead will be a field study of one of the United States’ biggest sub-cultures.

According to its Web site, NASCAR is our country’s second most popular sport behind the NFL in terms of television ratings. It is also broadcast in more than 150 countries.

Seventeen out of 20 of the most-attended sporting events in the United States are NASCAR races, and 75 million fans purchase more than $3 billion in annual licensed product sales. There are only about 300 million people in this country.

As many as or more than 82,000 people will be on hand at the Speedway Friday, Saturday and Sunday — a speedway located in a county (Wyandotte) of about 155,000 people.

This ever-growing fanaticism for motorized speed continues even after Dale Earnhardt — arguably the sport’s biggest icon — collided into a wall at 150 mph in Daytona seven years ago and died as a result. But the question here is: Has the sport grown in spite of that tragedy or because of it?

It’s an unpleasant thought, that much is certain, but a necessary inquiry.

Go to any given sports bar where NASCAR denizens congregate and you’ll likely hear, at least once, this exchange upon returning from the restroom:

“Did I miss anything? Did anyone crash? No? Damn. This race is boring.”

Earnhardt’s death was the fourth in a nine-month period dating back to May 2000. NASCAR eventually decided four deaths were enough to warrant a change in safety measures, and mandated that all drivers use head and neck restraints and continue to implement further safety measures — including the new Car of Tommorow that will be used during Sunday’s race.

The COT has foam inserted between the sheet metal and the driver’s cage to help absorb the shock of collisions, and the driver’s seat is farther from the door to minimize injuries sustained from side impact.

Because of these necessary changes, NASCAR has significantly cut down on the number of fatalities or serious injuries sustained during the Chase to the Sprint Cup.

We can now enjoy the wreckage free from guilt.

Really, for every racing purist out there, there are as many if not more casual fans who are attracted to the sport’s capacity to produce awe-inspiring stock car carnage.

This allure is nothing new, as mentioned above. People will always flock to football games to witness spine-crunching hits or claim they like to play rugby — until a strategically placed finger enters one’s eye socket.

What I have examined today is merely an aspect of the sport. The sheer magnitude of these events is what deserves appreciation and will no doubt get my attention this weekend.

Fortunately, the Jayhawks are on a bye week, so I don’t have to fret about their sorry running game or the Big 12 schedule ahead just yet. I can dive full bore into this crazed phenomenon of stock car racing.

Say what you want about NASCAR — It’s for hillbillies! — but its eighth venture into Kansas will most likely be the area’s biggest sporting draw of the year.

Best regards, and wish me luck for I am about to enter a world unknown.

— - Edited by Kelsey Hayes