Page 195 of The Legend
Until now,my life has been one long continuum, and racing has been its link. From agefour to forty-three, I have shared one passion, one preoccupation, having thesame pattern over those years.
For a while,you’re always older than you seem and then suddenly one day, you’re youngerthan you feel. You feel old or maybe it’s the illusion about yourself fueled bythe public life sent soaring then crashing. But you never lose what thatpassion was for.
The trackwas quiet but you could hear the rumbling in the pits as cars heated theirengines and prepared for a night of racing in honor of a man that made thistrack what it is now. Dirt track racing, the smells, the tracks, throwing thecar sideways, that’s what I loved. It may have nearly taken my life, somefriends and my dad, but it was still home to me.
I lovedthis place. I fell in love here. I found my family here. It was my home foryears, a place my heart knew.
My heartbeats a little different these days. It beats for the rhythm of the speed, therumbling of an engine and the grooves that move the line to the victory Itaste. It beats for the methanol, the adrenaline and the speed. It beats forthe passion that defined my greatness. It beats for the place I called home,where two hearts were secured within a cushion and a rail. It beats for a dirttrack.
It beatsfor a home cooked meal, a cold beer after a win, and a place I called home.
Walkingaround the track, I made my way to the flag stand.
I musthave stared at that flag stand for close to twenty minutes when Spencer foundme.
“Do youremember when we crawled under here and watched the race from right here?”
“How couldI forget? You broke my nose that night.”
“Oh, yeah”
Spencerlaughed looking over his shoulder when he saw Sway coming toward us.
His handclasped my shoulder as he smiled. “I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you for thislifestyle you’ve created for all of us but...”emotion crept over him, his eyes shined. “Thank you.”
“No man,thank you.” I said pulling him in for a hug. “I couldn’t have done it withoutyou guys.”
Sway foundme sitting on the back stretch wall, her hands wrapped around my shoulders.Twisting around, I moved her onto my lap.
Looking ather now, there was something about this woman that controlled me.
Sway had apower that no one else could ever have. She healed the scars over time.
I staredat the ring on her finger lighted by the burst of lights high above the clay.Here she was our entire lives behind the wheel with me supporting me no matterwhat. Even when she left me for lying to her, or the months following my injurywhen the guilt and depression pushed a void between us, she had never trulyleft me. No matter what I put her through, she stood by me. So many times shehad been put second in this life but not now, not anymore.
Wrapped inthought, her hands mapped the lines of my face as I stared at her.
Sway wasmy prayer. She was my untold answer in all of this. She held the key toeverything without even knowing.
My edgesmay have been rough, she knew that, but her touch created a surface strongerthan any metal.
Afteryears of never thinking I was good enough for her, she never let me forget thatI was.The expression I saw on her face took mybreath away. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t speak. I just stared, transfixed intoher eyes. Mesmerized by the depth of the passion and caring at the love I sawthere. The same I was sure that was reflected in mine.
The thingis, you can be the greatest driver of your time, be a champion, a legend. Youcan walk through the fire or you could be the difference between seeing it riseand making it rise. You could be a kid that no one thought would make it andthen, twenty years later, you’re standing in the hall of fame looking at yourname etched in the wall of the greatest racers of all time. You could be thatbecause although you may not have believed it would happen, you made it happen.Whether it was my relationship with my wife or the things I’ve accomplished, Imade it happen.
To me, thegreatest feeling I knew was that I didn’t do it for revenge. I didn’t do it forsomeone else, although at times it may have seemed that way, I did it for me. Idid it because it was a dream I believed in and refused to let go of. It was anunwritten legend that I scripted to fit me.
We werestill that same couple we were back when we threw ourselves into whatever itwas that drew us together. That connection, that unbelievably magicalconnection between us was stronger than ever and always would be. My wife mayhave never been the type of wife that had time to go to PTA meetings or hostPampered Chef parties but she was a racers wife. She planned schedules, droveour kids to various tracks and made sure the night before a race I had myfavorite meal, her fried spaghetti. She wasn’t comfortable in heels but she wasin flip flops. She hated Los Angeles but loved to the local dirt track. She wasmy counterweight and balanced every imperfection my life had.
There wasa time, a place, or maybe just a passing memory of this life when I oncethought, would I ever say when? Eventually, maybe without warning, your life,your body or maybe your mind has a way of saying it for you. I guess right nowI was simply…saying when.
I tookcomfort in knowing that a reflection, a memory, if only just a glimpse, couldlast forever.
Overlookingthe track, I cuddled up with her, relieved to know that what we had was wortheverything we had been through.
We hadn’tsaid anything, nothing needed to be said, a comfortable silence just holdingeach other.
For closeto an hour, nothing was said before she let out a chuckle leaning her head backto look up at me.
