Page 71 of The Legend
Money,like other motivations, comes from the mind and has nothing to do with it.Money can’t change it.
Over theyears, I wasn’t surprised to find drivers just like I was. Rager Sweet, driverfor my No. 99 Solar Seals sponsored sprint car, was one of them. Did I mentionhe was driving one of my sprint cars? Yeah, he was. He was gritty, hotheadedand downright arrogant at times.Just like I was at his age.Who am I kidding, I’m still that way. I like to think I have a little reservethough. Rager did not.
When hewas suspended for the final two races for fighting once again, I had to sit himdown. It was entertaining to me that I was talking about fighting when Imyself, struggled with this one. It’d been years since I took a swing atanother driver though.
So Istarted by saying what Tate told me one afternoon when I shoved him after theBristol night race for a pass I didn’t feel needed to be as dirty as he madeit.
“Thissport doesn’t need you.” Harsh I know, but it’s the truth and back then, thatwas what I needed to hear.
He laughedas I thought he would but listened. That was the one thing I appreciated aboutRager was that he did hear you out. Whether he followed the advice was yet tobe seen.
“You needto realize that this sport doesn’t need you. You don’t make sprint car racingand I guarantee it will go on without you. That’s the harsh reality of it all.”
“I neversaid it needed me. But I do providea certain...appeal.”
“Sure youdo. But there’s a point when you become a liability to me.”
“Are yousaying I’m fired?” Rager asked leaning against the wall in the shop, his hatpulled down so all I saw were the shadows of his eyes.
“No, I’m notsaying that. But this...” Imotioned to the paperwork in front of me from Solar Seals stating they hadenough and would consider pulling out of the No. 99 sponsorship. “Thisstupidityis a liability to me and the team.You need to control your emotions.”
“Like youdo?”
“Thisisn’t about me kid.”
Ragershook his head. “What is it then?”
“Let meask you something...” I leanedback in my chair relaxing. “What kind of appeal do you think you provide tothis team?”
“Winning,”he snorted. “I won more feature events then all your other drivers, includingyour prodigy son, last year combined.”
I laughed,I had to or I was about to give this kid a taste of my own gritty side. “Youknow, winning helps, and you’ve got that sure. But that’s not everything.Sponsors want consistency and how do you suppose that will happen when youcan’t stay in a race?”
Ragerdidn’t say any more, just stared back at me. He knew if he didn’t win, he wasin the wall or being towed back to the pits. And though having a driver thatgave it everything was great, sponsors wanted a driver who was consistent.
“You haveto look at what you want to do. You spend more time in the faces of the otherdriver than racing. Racing is what you’re paid to do. Me, your sponsors, we payyou to finish and unless you run up front, win, snag top five’s and beconsistent, you’ll be looking for another job. That’s just the way it is inthis sport.”
He noddedbut said nothing more. My final piece of advice was something my dad told meoften in my rookie season.
“There’s afine line, Rager.” My head tipped to one side. “Averyfine line,”
When heleft, I sat in my office enjoying the quiet. My thoughts went back to thegnawing feeling the offseason brought with it each year. I felt like I wasalways going somewhere but where? Pinched against the wall?
Theoff-season was always the same, only now I had more responsibility between theteams. I understood how my dad felt back in 2003 and trying to control me whenI had to deal with Rager. I also understood how Simplex felt now seeing fromthe outside.
Simplex isa family owned business and had been from day one. They didn’t like anynegative impact. If a driver representing them was suspended for a race, thatdidn’t look good.
Allsponsors are image-conscious and want themselves represented in a certain way.
That neverchanges.
RagerSweet was just a driver, a twenty year old kid really. He had no idea that ifthat car wasn’t on the track, Solar Seals andPowerPluswere not getting the publicity that they paid for. In turn, I wasn’t holding upmy end of the bargain. The guys back at the shop suffered because they spenthundreds of hours preparing the car only to have it destroyed by him. ComeMonday or whenever it was they saw the car again, they repaired everything hebroke only to have him destroy another one the next week.
That’swhere the real eye-opener came for me when I was his age. You don’t realize howmuch of a team effort all this is until you walk through one of our shopsduring the week.
Theeye-opener came for me when that race with Tate, the night race at Bristol. Wehad been battling hard allraceand the car was prettymuch destroyed when we left. There wasn’t a straight piece of metal on that carand the engine, I ran it hard. Brakes were destroyed and the gears were shottoo.
Well whenthe car got back to Mooresville, I watched how it got pulled from the hauler,tore down, inspected, each part carefully checked for wear. New parts were putback on, mechanics put in a new engine and new suspension. A new body wasput on, painted, polished and put back in the shop for our next trip to Bristolor Martinsville. What I never realized, until then, was how many guys touchedthat car afterward. When I destroyed a car, something like twelve differentguys back at the shop spent Monday fixing it. When you think about it likethat, everyone had a job to do, everyone was paid from that money that thesponsor provided, you understand what a team effort it was. You understood thatyour actions dictated others.
