Page 208 of The Champion
Look at Bucky Miers, the man who took a chance on aneighteen-year old kid. He retired last year only because he had a heart attack.
Look at Andy Crockett. He’d been at the peak of hiscareer when he died. And Colin Shuman was a kid taken much too young. I didn’talways agree with Colin but still, the kid had talent and his career was endedsuddenly.
I don’t know. Maybe I couldn’t figure out where I wasgoing with all this but my point was that you’re going along in your life theway you know how and my way was at 200 mph.
I had a feeling that no matter what this would always bethat way for me regardless of if I retired.
Like I said, you don’t just walk away completely. Buckywas still at the dirt track every Saturday night except only he wasn’t in acar. You can take the racer out of the car but you can’t take him off the trackcompletely.
I knew the possibility, as a racer, that each Sundaycould be my last but I also couldn’t think about it that way. The moment you’rescared is the moment youneedto walk away. There’s no room for fear.
The race season had gone on much like it always did butthere was a void that year for everyone we had lost. With my team, it wasn’tthe same anymore. A part of Kyle was gone, a part of our family was gone andthat affected us in every way. We struggled each week in the pits though wekept it together. Our romance was gone and I knew it’d take some time to find agroove again.
In November of that year, right before the last race ofthe cup season, Axel raced in his first World of Outlaw race in Charlotte atthe World Finals. He’d raced outlaws before but never in a sanctioned pointrace.
This was also the first race where three generations ofdrivers ever started a World of Outlaw race together.
Nothing exciting happened. I started mid-way through thefield and ended up blowing a tire with six laps to go. My dad started fourthsnagged a third place finish but what really made the night for us was Axel.
He started last when he wrecked in his heat and charged throughthe field of twenty-four cars to win his first Outlaw race.
My dad and I let him have his spot light with the media,laughing when Lane dumped a cooler full of ice down his back.
“There was a lot of talk during the break on whether ornot we should change out the gears but it looks like the call was right.” Axeltold the reporter in his face.
I smiled.
My son had just won his first World of Outlaw race. Muchlike my own dad when I won some of my first races in my professional career, Ididn’t have many words. It was kind of like his first Chili Bowl MidgetNationals win.
My dad sighed beside me limping back to the haulers.
“Can you make it or shall I carry you old man?”
He pushed me knocking me sideways.
“Carry me,” he repeated with a snort. “Son...who finished ahead of you tonight?”
“I blew a tire.” I defended watching the boys in thedistance.
“Still, I beat you.” He laughed rubbing his shoulder hehad surgery on last winter. “I’m sure that’s all that matters.”
“Come on old man,” slinging my arm over his shoulders, Ipulled him into me. “Let’s go have a beer.”
Back at the hauler, we relaxed and threw back a few beerswhile Axel and his boys celebrated in victory lane. I enjoyed times like thiswith my dad. It reminded me of when I traveled with him when I was younger andwe’d sit around after the races and he’d tell me how he thought I could dobetter.
Now it was different though. Times like this we justenjoyed the company. That’s not to say we didn’t have the smart ass commentsfrom time-to-time but it was nice.
Jimi tipped his beer toward me, his eyes tired.
“I’m getting too old for this.” He rolled his neck to oneside. “It’s wearing on my body.”
“I feel you.”
Injuries have a way of catching up with you too. Insprint car racing you could get in some of the most violent wrecks and diddamage to your body. With Jimi pushing seventy soon, everyone expected him toannounce retirement any day now. I knew it was coming but as a fellow racer,you don’t bring up retirement.
As a racer, Jimi couldn’t just walk away. Not withoutregrets.
“Hey Jameson,” Tommy yelled from the back of the pit bikeLane was driving. “Can I get a ride with you back to Mooresville tonight?”
