Wow, did Anaheim 2 and Glendale serve this one up on a silver platter. A2 was one of the most basic, one-lined tracks we've seen in ages while Glendale was an amazing track—coincidentally a home run on a football field. Glendale was awesome for the second year in a row. Could this be a coincidence? For some reason, Glendale offers up good dirt and an awesome layout. It makes everyone happy.

Right?

This tough track-versus-easy track debate is an all-timer not only this sport, but in any racing, ever. The debate isn't just about tracks; it's about the bigger picture. What makes for better racing? Trying to make things different to create separation among the competitors, or trying to make things similar so everyone can go the same speed?

Every single motorsport has wrestled with that question. Just compare NASCAR to Formula One. NASCAR tracks are simple and the cars are all very similar, with the rules forcing teams into a small box of changes. The end result is parity and unpredictable outcomes. You can love or hate NASCAR, but on the morning of every Monster Energy NASCAR Cup race, there are always a dozen drivers/cars that can legitimately take the win that day, no doubt about it. Many purists say NASCAR isn't as exciting as it once was, but it still has huge parity, multiple leaders, and more close finishes than most other forms of racing.

Meanwhile, F1's rules are far more complex and the tracks are crazy circuits of lefts and rights, ups and downs, with each weekend different from the next. F1 creates separation, and that means that each year, generally only two teams nail the engineering formula right and can actually win races. Well, actually, sometimes it's only one team. Parity is not Formula One's calling card.

Here's what comes next. In NASCAR, every driver/fan/team/pundit asks for more separation between the cars. Make the engineering window and rule book wider. Make the tracks tougher. Make the cars harder to drive so you can separate the good drivers from the bad. More separation means better racing! It means one car/driver can be so superior to the other that it can make passes and mix it up. 

In that sense, separation seems like the Holy Grail. Just open it up and dudes will be passing each other like crazy! You can't pass if all the cars go the same speed! This goes on and on.

Yet in F1, you see what separation gives you: great cars separating themselves from good cars. Each year, F1 goes to work trying to figure out a way to level the playing field. Often, they do it by introducing... more separation. Like aerodynamic wings that retract, briefly, when a driver closes on the car in front him—with hope it will boost him right past. Or forcing teams to run several different types of tires throughout the race. These rarely actually work to create closer finishes or more winners. But boy, do they try.

Seeing two series pound their heads against the wall in pursuit of the exact opposite thing is strange. More sameness or more separation? That's the real essence of racing.

Onto our little world now, where a similar debate rages always on tracks. There's a theory that "easy tracks lead to better racing because it keeps the field close together" and also a theory of "I wish the tracks were harder so as to create more separation."

Well, A2 was of the easy category, and it produced worse racing. Glendale was harder and produced better racing. For one week, separation was a good thing, but only because Glendale offered a perfect challenge, with sections riders couldn't do perfectly every lap. It's possible that a difficult track will have a section only one rider can nail, and then the race is over before it even begins. Further, it's awesome that every rider asks for tougher tracks to create separation, even though there's the chance that separation will allow another rider to pull away by a larger margin. Everyone can't gain when the track is harder; the idea is that some riders will gain and some riders will lose. That's the idea of separation.

Hey, all the NASCAR drivers ask for it, too. They want harder-to-drive cars that create separation. None of them ever seem to think the separation will be between them and the leader. Nope. They all think they're the driver who is going to pull away and separate from everyone else in the rearview mirror.

Someone is gonna be the loser if the pack separates. That's what separation is. It means two things become further apart.

I asked Adam Cianciarulo if the tracks should have more separation and he said that if the tracks are too technical, we won't have close racing and full stands. But the Glendale track that was more technical made the racing better!

Another example: last year's best race in Lucas Oil Pro Motocross came in the first 250 Class moto at Thunder Valley. The track was so gnarly and rutted—it created so much separation—that guys kept making mistakes and passing each other. Yet when I asked riders about the tracks, they said that Thunder Valley's rut fest made things too one-lined and led to boring racing (Justin Bogle won the 450 moto right after the 250 mega-battle, and told me he just had to stay in his line to win the race fairly easily). 

Separation, by definition, means further apart. Is that good in racing terms or not? 

You want one more? Easy tracks are safer but they're faster so they're less safe from harder tracks that make you go slower but are harder. 

Go solve that one. I'll be here all night.