Page 97 of The Champion
“Sway, are you in here?” Emma called out as I heard hercome in the front door. Then I heard a loud crash followed by an “Oh shit.”
“You’re paying for that!” I yelled out to her making myway into the living room to see her frantically cleaning up the glass from apicture frame she’d knocked over with her suitcase she carried around as adiaper bag for the twins.
Noah and Charlie began running around the house lookingfor Arie. They’d be turning three next week and their temperaments showed it.That’s not to say my two didn’t throw fits because, Christ almighty at times itwas as though the devil replaced my beautiful rusty haired babies.
“I’m sorry...I’mrunning late.” Emma told me.
“For what?”
“Swim lessons—remember? We talked about this a few weeksago.”
“Right,” I nodded. “I just don’t see why we should putthem in swim lessons. I’m mean they’re not salmon. Why do they need to learn toswim anyway?”
“Sway, what happens if they fall into the water? You liveon a lake.”
“That’s what floaties are for. Besides, they’re too youngfor swim lessons. Arie wants nothing to do with the water. I have to bribe herto get her to take baths. And Axel, well if it doesn’t involve a race car—goodluck getting him into the water.”
Emma sighed knowing damn well she’d never get my kids toagree to this. Yet another trait they inherited from their father, extremestubbornness.
Catch Can – Jameson
For the first time in almost a year, the family and Iwere on our way to Elma for Macy’s, Andrea and Van’s little girl, firstbirthday party.
Returning to the Northwest always made me laugh. I wasoffered a key to the City of Elma this last summer. Anyone that knew me foundthis entertaining. The Sheriff was constantly sending me to traffic court forvarious speeding or reckless driving infractions when I lived here. I washardly a model citizen.
Not long after this while I was driving home to Elma as Ientered the city I saw a sign on the side of the Highway 8 that read:Home of NASCARChampion Jameson Riley.
Laughing at the irony of it all, I snapped a picture andsent it to Sway with a text that read:We used to steal this sign back in highschool.
Her response:You better bring that shit home so we can hang it onthe wall!
Every time we stole the sign, they replaced it withanother and added the last date I stole it. Eventually we lost interest instealing the sign but it was still entertaining that my home town cared enoughabout me to have a sign made.
When we entered the city today, the sign was still there.Sway chuckled beside me when she saw it had been replaced yet again.
“Pretty soon they’ll have to add Axel’s name to it.”
I laughed. “Probably,”
I had just started Axel in the USAC quarter midgetDivision. He turned four last week and was granted his USAC license sonaturally he got a brand new quarter midget all ready to go for his birthday.Justin and Tyler helped me get everything set up in time for him to race in the“Duel in the Desert” in Phoenix this coming March.
To say he was excited was an understatement. Axel hadbeen showing interest in racing since birth but now it was something similar tothe way I acted around racing. We started him out with a go-kart at one and nowhe’d out grown it. I should rephrase that—the yard outgrew him.
Just like me when I was younger, he had a track in ourback yard at the Mooresville house; quarter mile clay oval track. And just likeme, he threw a fit when it was time to come in at night. I made a point thatevery Tuesday morning, I went out there with him and we raced. It became hardonce winter came around so what did I do? I installed a covered roof over thetrack. I couldn’t have a crying little boy, could I?
Once we arrived at the house on Summit Lake, I snuck overto the track to test out the car we got for him. Sway knew it was only a matterof time before I took him to the track. I had to make sure everything turnedout, right?
So Axel, Van, Tommy and I made our way over to the trackbefore heading out to the birthday party. Van and Tommy wouldn’t have missedthis either. Over the past few years, Axel had become like a son to him and forgood reason. He spent more time around my kids than I got to these days. I alsoknew they were protected.
I would never regret the decisions and sacrifices I’vemade now because financially it has secured our future but those decisions andsacrifices has had drawbacks. I had missed Arie’s birth, which was extremelyhard on me, and I’d missed Sway’s birthday twice now.
It’s strange but something happens when you become aNASCAR Champion and people stop seeing you for you and instead some sort of arock star who isn’t bothered by fame. That’s not entirely true. I hated fameand more importantly, I hated that fame for my family. Growing up, Axel wouldconstantly be considered Jameson Riley’s son just as I was always Jimi Riley’sson. It’s an endless cycle in the racing community. Knowing all this, I shouldn’thave been surprised to see fans waiting outside the gates at Grays Harborraceway when we pulled in.
I have no problem with fans. They’re the reason my careerhas really taken off but when I’m with my family, I want to be with them andgive them the attention they deserve. Yeah that one fan only wants a fewseconds of my time but what happens when I give just that one fan a fewseconds? Well then the next fan wants a few seconds and then the next, beforeyou know it, you’ve spent the last 30-minutes giving each fan just a fewseconds while my 4-year old son patiently waits inside his race car for his dadto show him how to drive it.
“I’m sorry, but my son is waiting for me.” I told thelast fan that wanted an autograph.
“Just one second of your time.” He pleaded handing me thedie cast car.
