Page 211 of The Champion
“Yeah...uh buddy...Ryder didn’t make it. He died this morningfrom head injuries.”
There was a sharp intake of breath from him followed by adeep shaky sigh before he asked, “Are you sure?”
“Yeah,”
I wasn’t positive but from the sound of the television inour family room, it was all over ESPN right now.
“You’re coming to Homestead, right?” Axel asked after amoment of silence. I could hear Lily crying in the background.
“Yeah, I need to leave now.”
“I’ll meet you guys there.”
“You don’t have to come buddy. Just...enjoy some time off.”
“No, I need to be with my family right now.” He said thisas though it was the only option.
I think I’ve said this before but on the track,everything is up for grabs. Tempers flared, friends you thought you had nolonger gave you room and would do anything to get a jump on you.
Off the track, the racing community is like your family.They’d do anything for anyone. That never changes. With the plane crash earlierin the year, we had all pulled together and did what we could do to go one andnow with Ryder, I knew we’d go on but it didn’t stop it from hurting. We neededeach other.
When Bobby cheated on his wife, multiple times, and noone agreed with it. But when she left him, who do you think was there to offerhim a beer?
Yes, guys like me and Tate who were fellow racers.
Or when Wade Simmons, a 19-year old rookie NASCAR driverwas killed in Texas last year during happy hour. We all gathered together andmade sure his young wife and little girl would forever be taken care of.
Tate, Bobby, and me made sure that those families, wholost their loved ones in that plane crash in May, were taken care of and hadnothing to worry about financially. The heartache alone would be enough. Theydidn’t need to worry about trying to make a home for their family and deal withthat. I guess what I’m trying to say was that when tragedy strikes like this,we pull together. That to me was us being champions in our sport. Sure winningthem defined the trophy but being a champion, there’s a difference betweenearning the title and being it.
Now wasn’t any different. After the Homestead race, aboutfive hundred fellow racers attended Ryder’s funeral in Knoxville to pay theirrespects for one the greatest drivers the USAC division had ever seen. Not onlyhad Ryder won the USAC Triple Crown ten times, he’d won events like Chili BowlNationals eight times, Turkey Night, The Hut Hundred and the Cooper Classicjust to name a few. Basically, every race I’d ever won in a sprint car ormidget, Ryder Christensen had done too, only multiple times.
As a racer, you never want to attend another racer’sfuneral.
Why?
It made the possibility of it happening to you and yourfamily real. You see it. You see the family suffering and know that it couldhave been you. Death is suddenly right there in your face, taunting you. Itreminds you just how precariously you’re balancing on the edge of disaster.
Here’s the thing about a warning to a race car driver. Wedo not listen.
We never listen, or I shall say ninety percent of thetime, we don’t listen. Just like an engine light in your car. Most wait untilyou’re left stranded on the side of the road cursing yourself for not takingthat damn orange light seriously. We were no different when racing. Dangers,well, they didn’t exist to us.
A few months after Ryder’s death, a little too late Ithought, he was inducted into the National Midget Auto Racing Hall of Fame.
Too bad he wasn’t around to give his standard humbleresponse of, “Ah well, I’m not that good. I just know how to go fast.”
I heard those exact words from him a lot over the nearlythirty years I had known Ryder.
Losing a fellow was never easy, losing a friend wasworse. I’d had to deal with a lot these days and every time it never goteasier.
Ryder’s death took the biggest hit on Casten actually. Hequit racing all together after that. Casten never really showed as muchinterest as Axel did anyway but after Ryder, he just said it wasn’t fun for himanymore. He never set foot in a race car again. I think part of the reason wasbecause the midget he’d been racing was one that Ryder owned. It didn’t feelright to him anymore.
I respected his decision because like I said, if you’rescared...you got no business strappinginto that car.
For the past few years, it seemed our entire family wasspread across the states and even into different countries for the holidays.But that Christmas after all the loss we’d suffered, everyone was home.
This was both a good thing and a disaster.
Sway loved having everyone together at our place. Icouldn’t understand why it always had to occur at our house but I kept my mouthshut when I saw how happy my wife was.
