Page 125 of The Champion
My eyes caught the papers scattered across the bedroomfloor from where the kids had been coloring earlier in the night.
“Someone is their hero.” I whispered in his ear andpointed to the dozens of pictures of Jameson and his race car.
Jameson chuckled softly.
“They’re young. They don’t know any better.”
Turning in his arms, I pulled back to look at him,running my hand down his jaw and saw the same worry I always saw when it cameto our children. He was constantly afraid he wouldn’t live up to the image theyhad of him. The problem was the he already had. They didn’t care if he didn’twin the championship every year. All they cared about was that he was there forthem. And he was.
“You mean everything to them. All they want in return isyour love.”
As your children grow, you do too...in a sense. We want to see what they will become but in thesame sense, they’re looking to us to see how we grow. You can’t tell them to bethe best they can be, all you can do is try to be that yourself.
“Is that allyouwant from me?”
“That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Pulling his lips to mine,I whispered, “What you are to the world means nothing to me. What you are tome; means everything.”
He leaned against the wall motioning with a nod of hishead toward are sleeping children. “I just don’t want them to know. I want themto stay innocent in all this.”
I knew exactly what he was implying. He didn’t want theweight of our world on them. They needed protection from it. Eventually wewouldn’t be able to do that but for now, while they were young, wewantedthat.
17.Yellow Line – Jameson
Yellow Line – Apainted yellow line that is used to mark the separation of the racetrack fromthe apron. In restrictor plate races NASCAR has decided if a car goes below theyellow line to make a pass the position will not be granted and you will bepenalized.
As with any year, the off-season flew by and before Iknew it, Speedweek was starting.
The 2008 season, I finished thirteenth in points. It wasthe lowest I had ever finished in any division I ever raced.
You can imagine what this did to my mettle.
When we left Homestead, I was depressed. Yeah, I won themost races that season but still, I hadn’t won the championship. I understood Icouldn’t win them all but I still tried. If I ever got to the point where Ididn’t try, I was retiring.
The off-season was hardly an off-season. From the haulerdrivers to the mechanics and engineers testing our cars, racing was a way of life.Just because it’s the off-season didn’t mean we were on vacation.
I usually took the week of Thanksgiving with my familyand two weeks around Christmas with them. Outside of those times, I was eithertesting, racing sprint cars, or working with our sprint car team. With threecars running in the Outlaw series, I had my work cut out for me.
Thank god for Tommy and Spencer or else I would havepulled my hair out by now.
Back at the shop in Mooresville, my cup team was workingon the cars for the next season. Whether it’s a new paint scheme or manufacturechanges, it’s busy. In the offices, new merchandise was designed and scheduleswere being finalized. I was paraded in front of sponsors and appearances allaround the county. So despite the NASCAR season only running from February toNovember, it never truly ends for us.
Then we had all the dealings with Grays Harbor. Luckilyfor me, Jen, Andrea and Mallory were wonderful and were able to get theschedule done, sponsors lined up for promoting the events and the memorial racefor Charlie we had each year scheduled. Without them, Sway and I wouldn’t knowwhat to do. With three kids and our busy schedules we hardly had time to run atrack but we would never get rid of it. That track brought everything about ourlives together. It would always stay in our family.
By the time I left for Daytona the first week inFebruary, I wasn’t even sure what day it was. The arrival of Sway and the kidsthe day of the Budweiser Shootout—improved my mood considerably. It didn’timprove my aggression though.
With the new season, new drivers came into the series.
The talk that season was Nadia Henley, a woman driver. Iwasn’t sure you could even call an eighteen year-old a woman.
She’d apparently gone through a driver developmentprogram from the same team Darrin came from. As you can tell, I was weary ofher from the start.
This year she had a full sponsorship with LeddyMotorsports and Lazer Energy.
I didn’t have anything against women drivers and racedthem just the same, for the most part. Now where I might rough up a seasonedvet, I wouldn’t do that to a rookie let alone a kid/woman rookie.
Nadia, with her spitfire attitude and red hair to matchhad one hell of a chip on her shoulder when Daytona rolled around. I wasn’tsure what to make of her so I kept my distance.
“Is that her?” Spencer asked when we stood on the gridprior to the duals.
