Page 195 of The Champion
Racers are not born racers.
Sure, you may have some innate ability within you thatdrove you down this career path, but it’s not a gift. It’s a naturalinclination for speed, competition and tact—for pushing yourself beyond yourcomfort zone, taking risks, and striving to be the best.
Over time you nurture these to become a champion in thesport that has consumed your entire life. Success and respect in the industryisn’t just handed to you.
I was a champion. The racing community was looking to mefor answers. They wanted me to help them through this tragic time.
But could I?
Lisa approached me and the tears in her eyes reflectedwhat the racing community was feeling.
“Jameson, can you speak to the media?”
This was something that countless hours on the track andin the garage never prepared me for. Consequently, I realized that titles,trophies and driving abilities, were not, in fact, what set a champion apartfrom other racers. The true test was now.
You see, every now and then, a racer comes along and histalent isn’t defined by the trophies or by his ability. What sets him apart iswhat defines him in the blaring spotlight.
It was ordinary men doing extraordinary things.
Still, the questions remained.
Could I?
I thought back to what my wife said to me this morningabout speaking the truth and realized I should just speak the truth.
My dad stood next to me, his head tipped to themicrophone. “It’s all you Jay.”
I smiled when he used the nickname my grandpa used tocall me and then I thought about the words of wisdom old Casten used to provideevery now and then. In a time like this, he would probably tell me, “It’s notthe fiery disposition of the driver that can rattle even the toughest. It’swhat he does with that fire that defines even the dullest.”
With grandpa, and my dad, you have to look between thegaps in their statements and decipher what you could and now I could understandwhat he meant.
“I was hoping that I would never hear this. I feel like halfmy family was on that plane and in reality, they were. I’ve known Wes my entirelife, and those boys on my team, well, they were like my brothers. It’s a verysad day for me.”
I wasn’t lying when I said that. This was and alwayswould be a very sad day for me.
The media, as they always did, wanted every side theycould get and if there was a story to be written well they were there to findit.
“Jameson, do you think this could have been pilot error?”
I wanted to scream at them and tell that not to push theblame on something they didn’t know but I went for the subtle but harshapproach.
“The National Transportation Safety Board isinvestigating the accident. None of us were there. Don’t place the blame forsomething you don’t know.”
And with that, I walked away for the podium. Was that achampionship speech? Probably not but I spoke the truth. Something they knewvery little about.
Tate and Bobby stood to the side not wanting anyinteraction with the press. Tate had lost his teammate, pilot and cousin inthat crash. Little words were spoken between us or between anyone.
Kyle had lost his younger brother, Gentry, and wasn’there to be at the press conference. I couldn’t blame him. I couldn’t blameanyone who was with their families today and not here.
For the first time ever in the history of NASCAR asidefrom September 11, 2001, they cancelled all three divisions that weekend inNASCAR as well as other NASCAR sanctioned tracks around the world to payrespect to those who were lost.
In my mind, that was a championship call by NASCAR. Everysingle one of those people who were lost that day deserved to be rememberedwith dignity and in a way that was respectful. They didn’t need to be askingwho did what wrong.
As for my team, I lost Wes, my pilot, two members of mycrew and fellow drivers.
That doesn’t just go away. You remember in ways you neverthought you would. When I looked at a spark plug, I thought of Ethan and himbuying lawnmower spark plugs. Every time I made a pit stop, I thought ofGentry. I saw a plane and immediately thought of Wes. Looked at the number fourand saw Andy’s face. It was hard. So many lives were lost that it felt wrong tobe here.
Was I afraid to fly after that?
