Page 119 of The Champion
“It’s not helping. What did you change, anything?”
“What’s it feel like now?” Kyle asked.
“Forty-two at your door...clear.”Aiden guided me through a pack of lapped cars.
“The same. It feels like it’s dragging and my right frontis way too high.”
“On entry, middle or exit?”
“Entry and exit,”
“Your last lap time was a 32.30. Bobby is running a 50 infront of you.”
Another twenty laps went by and the car got worse, if thatwas possible at this point. “I’ve never felt anything like this before.” Icomplained.
“Just hang in there bud, we’ll put some air in the rightfront.”
“That’s not the problem. The right rear actually feelslike it’s coming off the ground. We have to get the front end down more.”
Kyle was quiet for a few moments, probably contemplatingwhat the hell that meant and what would fix it. The hardest part of his job,aside from my frequent mood swings, was trying to decipher my explanations ofthe way my car was handling.
“Let’s go with a 32ndround out of the rightfront and a 16thout of the left. Do you think we should change thesplitter?”
“I wouldn’t just yet.”
Before we had the chance to make the changes, Colin triedto make a pass on Bobby for the lead and pegged the outside wall hard sendingdebris flying everywhere bringing out the caution.
“Cautions out—stay high,”
The twenty-four of Andy Crocket checked up and sent therest of the field fishtailing to avoid hitting him and the debris slung out overthe backstretch. This would have worked in my favor having Colin out of themix. Only problem was that when Andy checked up, the seventeen of Nathan Weisewas not paying attention and clipped the back of my car sending me into Andy’sbumper.
“Damage to the front end,” Aiden announced.
Accessing thesteamingsituation, it was apparentthe radiator was shot along with my hopes of the chase this year. This was notgood. I was never satisfied with anything other than a win and neither were mysponsors.
“Son of a bitch!” I yelled flashing a hand gesture atNathan. He flashed the same gesture combined with a few words that I couldn’thear. Whatever they were, it pissed me off even more.
“It blew the radiator out.” I told the crew. “Where’s thegarage?”
Pulling the car past the pit wall I realized that I hadno idea where to turn.
“You can get there from where you’re at.” Aiden told mefrom his position on top of the tower in turn one.
“Tell me where to go. I can’t see shit and there are nosigns pointing toward the garage.”
“Down the hill. Turn right after the gate.”
“Was that so hard?”
“Listen!” Aiden snapped. “I’m up here with god knows whatkind of bugs crawling on me. I’m sweating like a fucking pig and you wantdirections to the garage. Don’t be an—”
I had no choice but to laugh when Aiden started coughingfrom the “god knows what kind of bugs” that he apparently swallowed.
My crew did what they did best and got me back on thetrack but the damage to the points was already done. I missed the chase bytwelve points, yes, twelve fucking points.
It was an unbelievably dejected feeling. Since I startedracing, I had never finished outside of the top ten in points for any series Iran in, ever.
After the race, I made my way toward the motor coaches tochange and get my bag before heading home to Mooresville. Colin and Nathan werewalking the same direction. Colin Shuman and me tolerated each other. Iwouldn’t, by any means, say we were friends but it was easier than fightingwith him. An occasions, we would have a beer. Hell he even came camping with usonce. But like I said, we were not close like I was with Bobby and Tate.