I loved my first memory of the patch. Whatever that old diner's name that's down the road through the orchards from the track, I remember sitting there with my dad, eating breakfast at a tiny table. The place was wall-to-wall people. Big was at a table behind us. Prudhomme was across from us. I'm sure there were many more icons of the sport sitting around, but we were all just eating, laughing, and getting ready for a day of loud cars and horsepower. Good stuff. Hope the old tracks hang around forever.