Page 19 of The Legend
Again, moreeye rolling.
“Jameson,”a reporter to my left shoved a microphone in my face. “This year you’ve alreadybeen fined $50,000 for the altercations made to your car and forced to startfrom the rear of the field today. What are you thought on making it to thefront and do you think you’ll get caught in the big one?”
Trying tokeep my composure for the media and their invasion into our privacy, I answeredpolitely, “It’s unfortunate that we’restartin’ fromthe back but that’s the way it is. I think if we keep out of trouble, payattention and make good stops, we have a shot just like anyone else. WithDaytona you can be leading and then next thing you know you’re last. Same goesfor last place. You just never know.”
I musthave answered with that same speech twenty times standing on the grid before Ifinally heard the call for us to report to our cars.
BrodyWilliams, a rookie this year walked past me, and my forty-third startingposition, to his pole position. I didn’t appreciate his brash walk past me.
Spencernoticed and looked over his shoulder before nudging mine. “He looks like he’sten years old.”
I gruntedbut said nothing. I gave Sway a kiss, she wished me luck, my team and I shookhands and patted backs. We all prayed for a day of good luck and a safe fivehundred miles when the outcome at a track like Daytona was far from ourcontrol.
Inside thecar, I got comfortable, pulled on belts and did the best I could to calm mypre-race nerves. Most of which were usually calmed but one picture that remindedme why I was here, my family. The picture was one taken when the kids wereyounger and my absolute favorite as it reminded me of the way we were. Itwasn’t your ordinary posed family picture. Instead, it was Sway and me standingtogether on the beach, both looking at each other. My right arm was hung out tothe side holding a two-year old Casten up in the air by his ankle as helaughed. Sway stood with one hand resting on my cheek with the other onegrabbing a six-year old Axel by his hooded sweatshirt. There, standing with herhands on her hips, was our little headstrong Arie wearing a ballet outfit, aJAR Racing sweatshirt and a pair of combat boots. It was my family and a familythat got me through this. Those that knew me understood this lifestyle wasn’tsomething I enjoyed but I enjoyed racing. I enjoyed being the best and withthat came this lifestyle.
Connectingmy helmet to the radio, I checked reception. “You copy Kyle?”
“10-4,”
All wasquiet as the field rolled from the grid and onto the track for our four pacelaps.
“Let’shave a good day guys.” I said over the radio. “Awesome pit stops and cleandriving.”
“Cleandriving?” Kyle laughed. “Who’sdrivin’ the car?”
“Whatever.”I mumbled tightening my belts.
“Two to goat the line,” Aiden announced, “I don’t have a good view in three so if youquestion it, don’t make a move there.”
“10-4,”
Once thegreen flag was waved, it was crazy. Every other lap we were being thrown thecaution. Cars were overheating and blowing engines. Tires were shredding. I’dnever seen it that bad before but when you’re trying to control our speeds aswe do, we get bunched together. If you bunch cars together, they overheat andengines blow. What did they expect?
“Clearhigh, there you go. Nice move.” Aiden said when I got past Brody Williams forfifth twenty laps into the race.
“Fuckman,” I looked up to see him still there, “he gets such a good jump off theother cars.”
Brodydidn’t let me off easy and came right back with Nathan Wise and Bobby behindhim. Since they changed the rules and we couldn’t communicate with otherdrivers I couldn’t tell Bobby what I really thought of him paring up with Brodyhere. He was supposed to be drafting with me.
For threehundred miles it was an endless display of yellow flags and swapping positions.
“It’s likea circus out here.” I laughed when the caution came out again just after werestarted with ten laps to go.
Aidenlaughed, “Lots of green, yellow and now red.”
“I’mheading home if they add blue.” I joked. “Why is the red out now?”
“Tate andSteve are getting into it.”
“Tate?”
“Yeah,Tate Harris,”
“Why isthe crowd going crazy?” I noticed the shift in the stands and the sudden drawto the start finish line.
“I toldyou,” Kyle sounded annoyed. “Tate and Steve got into it.”
“What doyou mean they got into it?”
