Now Casten, he was in it for fun. If he wasn’t havingfun, he didn’t do it. He was blithely carefree and loved everyone, just likeSway. You rarely saw that kid without a huge smile. Even when he was sleeping,he was smiling and he had the negotiation skills of a politician, no lie.
Arie listened to my in-car audio on the pit box andprovided her own commentary on the race and her thoughts. Much to my surprisebut not hers, I did win. After ten years of trying, I finally won the Daytona500.
Arie was there to greet me in victory lane along with herbrothers and my wife who must have shown up sometime throughout the race.
I smirked when I saw Sway jumping up and down with thesame excitement our kids showed owing that their father was a Daytona 500winner.
“I knew you could do it.” Sway whispered in my ear when Ipulled her hard against my chest. With our schedules, it’d been weeks since Ilast seen her. “You behave dirty heathen.”
I winked. “I love you honey.” I whispered back before ourkids were climbing on us.
All those times away; the late nights, the early risesand the sacrifices were rewarded at times like this.
The only thing I ever hoped for out of all this was thatthose who helped me along the way understood they were a part of what I do andalways would be. When I won a race or a championship, it’s not just for me ormy dad as the car owner or even Simplex as my sponsor. It’s foreveryoneand I hoped that they felt the same excitement I felt winning. I’m sure no onefelt like I did but I sure hoped they realized what they meant to me to havethat support. Yeah, I was a 6-time NASCAR Sprint cup Champion and had won113-cup races, but I owed to everyone else.
My tenth season in the cup series was by far my best yearyet. Not only did I win the Daytona 500, but I also won the All-Star race andmanaged to pull off my seventh Cup championship.
It was a good year.
One of the most closely guarded secrets in NASCAR,besides the rulebook, is how much each driver is paid. You see it with the NFL,NBA, NBL; most nationally recognized sports flaunt what a particular athlete ispaid each year, aside from NASCAR.
Word gets out on occasion but you’ll never see a driversay, I made “this” amount. Not only do we receive a base salary from ourowner/sponsor, but we also get outside money from prize money, contingencyawards and endorsement contracts. It’s not uncommon to see a veteran driverraking in around $15-25 million in a season.
Without a doubt this seemed to be one of the best yearsof my career with a record number of poles and wins and the championship titleonce again. Financially, I was also on top of the sport. Along with my $900,000salary from Riley Simplex Racing, I received 40 percent of my winnings and thenmy endorsement deals from clothing companies, safety gear, shock companies, thelist went on and on. Then you account for my owner profit for JAR Racing andthe twenty percent I took home from each time Justin, Cody or Tyler pulled intovictory lane, I really wasn’t hurting for money.
But all that didn’t matter. Sure it was nice but I wasn’tin it for the money. I was in it to race and you know what happened because ofthat?
I became the best driver in the series.
20.Back Out – Sway
Back Out – When adriver takes his foot off the gas pedal (all the way or part way) he “back out”or “lifts” the throttle.
Despite my sanity, I agreed to let Logan and Lucas comeout for the fourth of July the summer of 2013. Why they wanted to come out herewas beyond me. They were sixteen. Didn’t they have more appealing things to do?
I just knew having sixteen-year old half-brothers aroundmy spaz children was a bad idea.
Their plane got in the night before we were set to leavefor Daytona’s night race.
When Spencer to get them from the airport, I was relievedthat Lucas had stayed home. I could handle one of them.
“We’re here!” Spencer announced slamming the door behindhim. Jameson wasn’t home yet from the shop as they were apparently making somechanges to Justin’s sprint car before it headed to Dodge City Kansas tomorrowmorning.
“Sway—you in here?” Spencer’s booming voice echoedthroughout the downstairs.
“Yeah,” I sighed removing the cookies from the oven. Icouldn’t figure out for the life of me why I decided to make cookies. It wasn’tlike I wanted Logan to feel welcomed and want to stay. “I’m in the kitchen.”
Spencer and Logan came around the corner, standing nextto the island. Logan laughed. “Since when do you bake?”
“I bake a lot asshole.” I shot back throwing a cookie athim.
“Really, judging by the number of kids in the movie roomfighting over a movie...I’d say you dootherthings in your free time.”
I noticed the kids came into the kitchen to see what allthe commotion was about.
“Where the hell is Jameson?” Logan asked looking around.
“He’s at the shop. He’ll be home later.”
