Page 106 of Trading Paint
Reed slipped coming out of four on lap thirty-one, Jameson passed him on the bottom for fifth. He went high for a few laps and came up on the Cup drivers fighting for fourth and they caught up with the lapped car of Russ Erickson. Jameson seized the opportunity and rallied by both Cole and Harris on the high side and was reeling in Justin and the kid from Australia, Levi with six laps to go.
He passed Levi with little effort and I honestly believed that if anyone was going to stop Jameson that night, it was Justin West.
Justin was strong but so was Jameson. He couldn’t pull away and slowly, Jameson began taking his line. One slip by either of them and the third place of Bobby Cole would be ready. They raced each other clean but they also never lifted. They both wanted the win just as bad.
Every time Justin came off three, his car would sputter. After two laps Jameson had the exact moment his car did that and passed him on inside. One thing about Jameson was he never passed on this inside, I don’t know why, he just didn’t. Jimi had just pulled his car to the infield and sat on the roll cage watching, by now with one lap to go he was standing on it waving his arms in the air.
Grandpa Casten, who appeared out of nowhere, leaned into my shoulder. “He looks like a fucking idiot out there.”
I assumed he was referring to Jimi at least I hoped because Jameson looked far from an idiot. Every move was smooth and control.
Justin didn’t give up though, stayed right on his outside but when they came out of four, Justin’s tire hit the cushion on the outside. And once again, Jameson was on it and pushed past him just enough to get his front tires over the finish line before Justin.
Jameson won the Chili Bowl Midget Nationals by less than a foot.
The crowd was in an uproar around me but I just sat there staring at him as he spun his midget around in front of turn three where we were all sitting.
Leaving his helmet on, he pulled himself from the car, stood through the top roll bars and pumped his fists in the air while Jimi ran over to him, as did Justin. They all knew how much a win like this meant to Jameson.
The sports announcers swarmed over to them after that and Jameson was still showing an extreme amount of excitement for his win, as was Spencer and Tommy beside me...Grandpa Casten...well, he was busy watching theRedBullgirls at the other end of the bleachers to care.
“Jimi,” the announcer tried to push his microphone in his face but he and Jameson were still hugging. It was sweet to see them so happy together. “Jimi,” he tried again. Finally, Jimi turned toward the announcer. “Did you give him advice?”
Jimi laughed.
“If he wants it, I give it.” he looked at Jameson tucked under his arm. “There’s not much I can tell him he doesn’t already know though. He’s been around racing since he was born. He knew what he was doing tonight.” Jimi looked around and motioned to the track. “Obviously,”
“Jameson,” the announcer turned the microphone toward him. Jameson wiped sweat from his face before nodding for him to continue. “How close was Justin to winning or did you have it all along?”
“He’s was pretty damn close! I didn’t think I had it until I saw his struggle coming out of three and saw my opening.”
“How does it feel to win your first Chili Bowl?”
“I don’t know...ask me tomorrow when I’ve calmed down...right now, I’m just in shock!”
Victory Lane was a mad house and I could barely see Jameson once we arrived. There were other drivers, reporters, crewmembers, sponsors, car manufactures...there were people everywhere.
Being a little over five feet tall, I couldn’t get close enough to see him when Tommy picked me up and carried me toward Jameson.
“I’m following orders,” he grunted and hoisted me over his shoulder.
I wasn’t amused.
He set me down in front of Jameson and then before I could move Jameson wrapped his sweaty arms of steel and pulled me tight against him chest.
“Can you believe this?” his voice was breathless and incredibly sexy.
“You did great out there.” I replied pulling back to look at him, his eyes focused on my lips for a second before looking into my eyes. I felt like he wanted to say something, Iwantedto say something but we didn’t.
After a moment, he tipped his head in Tate’s direction.
“He wants to introduce me to someone.”
I wasn’t surprised. Tate had big-time sponsors in the Cup series and had been watching Jameson’s every move this week.
Without a doubt, Jameson had rocked the Chili Bowl Midget Nationals. He was like a possessed man on the track racing with consummate skill and showing his immense talent and intelligence for racing.
He was making a name for himself and everyone was seeing that.
