Page 190 of Trading Paint
Darrin shoved Jameson (wrong move by the way), Jameson shoved him and then they were struggling against officials to get at each other. By now, Jameson had tossed his gloves and helmet aside, as did Darrin. His enraged glower at Darrin said it all. They were yelling at one another while the officials fought to keep them apart. With the announcers from the broadcasting station speaking, you couldn’t hear what they were saying but I recognized a few choice words like “Fuck” and “Asshole” or “Motherfucker” which was a standard selection of words when Jameson was upset.
They cut to commercial, so I immediately sent a text to Emma.
He’s going to get himself suspended!
It took her a moment but she finally responded.
I know. NASCAR is calling them both to the hauler.
When the broadcasting station came back on, theypannedto Jameson’s car making its way to victory lane as Darrin trudged toward the NASCAR hauler surrounded by officials and crewmembers.
“Darrin,” the reporter swarmed him. “Can you tell us what happened there on the last lap?”
“We both wanted the win. It’s a big payout and a race where you let go. I wanted to win so I took an opening where I could.” He replied with a shrug of his shoulders casually.
“What was the interaction there when you two came to rest there at the end?”
Darrin laughed with intent.
“He flaunts his talent out there like a brat with a trust fund.” He told the reporter and began walking again. “There’s a reason why he’s called “Rowdy Riley”. He’s out of control.”
Amazed that asshole suggested that was all Jameson, left me angry as they shot to the view of Jameson now in victory lane pulling himself from the car once again. If you thought this was all by pure luck that they suddenly catch the driver getting out of his car, it’s not. That’s all planned by the broadcasting stations. The driver gets the cue to get out of the car. If he doesn’t listen, he has to do it all over again.
Crossing between frustration, outraged and the thrill from the win, he pulled himself from the car. His eyes were hard, but he smiled despite the scrap he had just been in.
Without a moments rest, the reporters were there.
“How does it feel to win your first Winston race?”
Jameson chuckled sweeping a towel over his face. “I don’t think it’s sunk it yet.” He said of the win. “I’m really excited.” I knew he was excited for the win, but I knew him well enough to know the win wasn’t what he was thinking about.
“A millionaire now, huh?”
“Yeah, I think that’s the payout, right?” he looked around with a grin as the crowd cheered behind him. “Guess so...”
God did I want to be there to celebrate with them.
“What happened there after the race?”
“I feel bad we tore up the car there but it was racing.” He told him. “It’s a big deal to win this race. We’ve been fortunate for a new team that we have the best cars around. These fans wanted a show, they got that.”
“Was that planned?”
“No, I never plan to destroy my race car like that.” He said. “Tempers flare at these races. We both wanted the win.”
“Darrin said you flaunt your talent like a kid with a trust fund.” The reporter provoked.
Refusing to make eye contact with the camera, his head shook in a slow vexed movement. “He’s just pissed I’m one step ahead of him out there.” Jameson bit. “Every move he makes, I’ve already seen it and predicted what he’ll do.” He turned after that and faced his crew, evidently done with the interview. Couldn’t blame him, they were only setting him up.
The reporter started to sign off when he saw Jameson take the microphone from him. “I forgot to say one thing,” he smiled at the reporter. “I need to say hello to my best friend back home who just graduated college tonight. Congratulations Sway...this win is about fans and you’ve been my biggest one, thank you!” he winked at the camera and then turned back around to speak with the line-up of reporters waiting for their turn.
Mallory turned to me. “That was intense!”
I gasped. “You’re telling me.”
“Do you think he’s in trouble?”
“With NASCAR?”
