I’ve seen a lot of mind-numbingly stupid things in my time here at LwC, but I think this one beats them all. A NASCAR driver just lost one of his sponsors over some racial remarks. Normally, that wouldn’t be newsworthy, but there’s a couple of deets that separate this tale from the rest.
Those racial remarks weren’t the driver’s own. They were his fathers. Even better, the remarks were made years before said driver ever emerged from the womb. I kid you not:
Conor Daly is paying for the sins of his father.
Conor’s father, Derek Daly, on Thursday admitted he had used a racial slur in a live radio interview in the early 1980s. Conor Daly was born in 1991.
On Friday, Lilly Diabetes pulled its sponsorship decals from Conor Daly’s No. 6 NASCAR ride, saying that it didn’t want the distraction from their cause.
Lilly’s full statement, via NASCAR reporter Chris Knight: “Our sponsorship in Saturday’s race is intended to raise awareness of treatment options and resources for people living with diabetes. Unfortunately, the comments that surfaced this week by Derek Daly distract from this focus, so we have made the decision that Lilly Diabetes will no longer run the No. 6 at Road America this weekend.
“We remain committed to our mission of supporting people with diabetes.”
Yes, now we’re at the point where you’re not only accountable for your sins, but the sins of your relatives. God help you if your second cousin twice-removed on your mother’s side runs a farmer’s market and enjoys the outdoors.
It would be one thing if the driver himself made the remarks. Yet, here we are. A guy taking a bullet because of something his dad said. Years before he was born. Ladies and gentlemen, we’re going boldly where political correctness has not gone before.
Obviously using racial slurs is stupid. This goes without saying. Even more stupid is blaming people whose only sin is being related to the utterer of N-words. Up until now, blaming Person B for something Person A said wasn’t a thing.
Welcome to the future, folks. All you can do is cross your fingers and hope your relatives’ closets are skeleton-free.