Page 29 of The Champion
If you’re passing, when you’ve gotten momentum, you canswing out and pass. Sounds simple but it’s not. Drafting is mysterious game.You either know it or you don’t. It takes practice to learn how the air movesover the cars and the feeling of the way the car moves through that air. Somenever figure it out just like some never figure out the grooves in dirt racing.It’s a talent or an art if you will. There are times when you think you’ve gotit figured out and one wrong move of just an inch and you’ve been schooled bythe superspeedway. You know nothing.
Kyle and Mason talking strategy interrupted my thoughtsduring the warm up laps.
“Stick with Cole and Harris. It’s our best chance at gettingto the front.”
“Green flag this time by,” Kyle told me. “Push Harris infront of you, line up behind him.”
Once the green flag dropped, I was on a mission. Tate andI worked together to move to the front. Daytona was a track that requireddrafting. If you fell out of line, you were hung out to dry.
I was running third, behind Shuman within a few laps andI’m not all that surprised we went from our nineteenth starting spot to thirdin twenty laps. My car was awesome and I was ready for him. He was too obviouswith his movements so I could tell he was going to block me high. His movementswere jerky and predictable, he was nervous being his first cup race and he knewI was faster.
Tate, who was lined up behind me, tapped into myfrequency, “I’m with you when you go,”
I could feel beads of sweat trickling down my face undermy helmet, even with my cool air system; I was sweating like crazy. My entirebody felt like it was on fire.
“Outside at your door,” Aiden announced, “Middle two. Theten and the ninety are with you,”
I could see Austin Kennedy in my periphery but I was justa fraction of a second quicker and that was all I needed to pull in front ofhim going into turn two.
Austin darted in behind Cole two positions back in thedraft leaving Shuman out to dry.
Every muscle was burning from the exertion of racing atDaytona as I fought each second not to fall out of line.
“Fourteen coming strong behind you,” Aiden said.
Have I ever mentioned how much I hate seeing that numberfourteen again? I’m sure with my dislike for the actual number, you can gatherme and Colin would never be friends.
Some five laps later, I was not expecting Shuman to takethe air off me some and send me into the wall with his kamikaze drafting.
“Fourteen never lifted. Hit the wall in turn four, rightside flat.” Aiden told the crew. “Twenty-nine outside...clear...keep it low.”
Way to start the season!
I immediately thought to myself. Nothing was worse thanspending the entire off-season preparing for the new season only to wreck thefirst race out.
Of course, this pissed me off. I flashed a few handgestures and pushed against him when the caution came out with my mangled car.I was amazed I was able to drive it away after that.
“Motherfucker!” I yelled and bumped him once more, hepushed back offering his own hand gestures.
It wasn’t a friendly hello.
I was almost positive this would result in some wordswith NASCAR after the race and possibly some words with Shuman, which I’d beready for after his earlier comments.
Kyle came over the radio as I pulled onto pit road, “Calmdown bud, we can still pull through with a decent finish here.”
Aiden was also yelling something about me being out ofcontrol that I couldn’t make out because of all the commentary on my behaviormy dad was now contributing to the conversation.
“I wonder if I could drive without the radio?” I askedmyself during the pit stop.
“You copy Riley?” Cole asked once I made it back up frontafter pitting twice to repair the damage.
“Fourteen at your door...clear.”Aiden interrupted.
“10-4, I think we should hold up.” I said to Bobby. “Thetrack’s changing out here,”
“I agree. I was tight and now I’m loose. If we could getsome momentum we could stretch it out.”
“Stay with me, I think we can make it to the front if westick together.”
