Page 201 of Trading Paint
Alley caught up with me after my appearance on Trackside Live. “Hey Jameson, you have a meet n’ greet in about an hour.” She pushed her curly blonde hair away from her face—the summer heat was blistering today. Her porcelain cheeks flushed from the heat with Lane on her hip.
“Thanks...hey,” I flashed her with a wheedling smile.
My mood was never this good on the day of a race; this wasn’t lost on Alley either who looked at me as if she’d never seen me before. “Can you pick up Sway from the airport today?”
She nodded her head looking down at her Blackberry. “Sure...but don’t do anything stupid.”
“What are you talking about?” Lane squirmed in her arms to reach for me. His bright curious blue eyes scanned around the humming boisterous atmosphere of race day in the garage area.
“With Sway...just...don’t, Jameson.” She warned handing him to me.
“Huh?” Lane and I both looked at each other—he squinted into the sun shining on him over my shoulder.
Alley slapped at my forearm.
“I know you...you want...” her eyes focused on Lane as she chose her words carefully. “morebut I’m telling you right now, one of you will get hurt. Just don’t.”
Lane smiled at me, his expression strangely serious. “Mommy says no.”
Great, now a three-year old is giving me advice.
I knew what Alley was warning me about but I had to know if Sway felt the same way. I knew she hadfeelingsfor me but I needed to know for myself if there was any chance they might be more. I wanted more. I wanted it sobadlyit’s all I could think about right now. Understanding how long it took me to come to this conclusion that I wanted more, do you honestly think I’d be persuaded not to act upon it that easily?
I wasn’t sure how it would turn out once she was here but I had to try. I was done wasting time with her, I needed something, anything.
Every Sunday morning while I did my interviews and meet-n-greets; my car went through inspection at the far end of the garage. NASCAR officials picked over the car on an elevated platform. During various times throughout the weekend, your car was inspected. Usually before the first practice session, before qualifying, after qualifying if you win the pole, and just before the race.
They also do this after the race for selected cars, usually the top five finishers, the first car to fall out of the race not involved in an accident and one random car. You don’t know if you’re a random car or not until you’re pulling onto pit lane and the officialtellsyou. If something doesn’t jive after the race, you lose the points awarded for the win and you’re penalized. In most cases you do get to keep the win itself.
They inspect everything from ride height, angle or size of spoiler, weight (they must weigh 3400 pounds with at least 1600 pounds on the right side without the driver), engine specs (the car must adhere to compression ratios and displacement) how the car fits into the templates, and restrictor plates if it’s a restrictor plate race.
Now did I mention they check your fuel?
If I didn’t, it’s because I never thought about it,untiltoday.
Our team had no reason to cheat, so why would we?
Each week we were consistent, always had been. I’m not saying we didn’t bend the rules from time to time because every team did. You push and push until you get handed a fine. Then you know you can’t get away with that any longer and you push the next issue. It’s racing. With the competition levels they way there were, every team tried to “one up” the other. It was the name of the game.
So yes, we pushed boundaries, but we never messed with the fuel or tires. Two things NASCAR heavily enforced.
All things considered, when Kyle approached me after inspections and prior to my meeting with Simplex to tell me they found something in our fuel, I wasn’t pleased.
“What the fuck do you mean theyfoundsomething in the fuel?”
“I don’t know.” He threw his arms up. “Mason said they made the crew drain the fuel tank and they took the fuel for testing.”
Alley must have noticed my fuse was just about out to ignite as Kyle was talkingcauseshe stepped in front of me and her hands gripped my shoulders.
“Jameson,” Alley’s voice was full of warning. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” I was getting angrier and confused.
“Lose control right now.” She said sternly. “Just relax.”
I grunted and walked away from both of them heading to my meeting with Simplex. This was not the shit I needed or wanted today.
While I was busting my ass through the paddock to make it to the hospitality tents Simplex had set up, Spencer chose now to talk to me.
