The Legend (68 page)

I set out
to win the championship and I did.

That’s all
that mattered to me.

Like
grandma tells me, “It doesn’t matter how you get there, just that you do.”

She was
talking to Spencer at the time but still, the words could be applied to
anything.

All that
mattered was that I did it and I did it my way.

Now it was
time to head to Homestead with the rest of our family to watch my dad’s last
race. Deep down it bothered me that he was hanging it up because for so long we
shared this one thing together. Racing, now what would that mean?

Inside Line – Jameson

Leading up
to my last race in Homestead was nerve-racking. It was hard to think that in a
few days, the life that we had lived for so long would be changing again.

I wasn’t a
contender for the championship since our first half of the season was driven by
a back-up driver. Not that Easton didn’t do well, he did. But it wasn’t enough
to put us in championship contention.

Remember
when I said I’d give it everything I had, well I most definitely did that last
race.

I really
enjoyed Homestead, always had. But then again, that was before my accident and
whether I wanted to face it or not, I had some setbacks physically from it that
caused me to feel uncomfortable at times. Homestead wasn’t any different.

Once the
physical therapy was done, it took some time for me to really feel comfortable
in the car again without the occasional cramping or aching midway through the
race. The problem was my shoulder.

Dave, my
personal trainer/physician these days that traveled along with our team and not
only helped
me
but he helped the crew members if they
needed it on the weekends. So he made this device that I wore inside the car
that helped take the pressure I felt off my left shoulder on the longer races.

Thankfully,
this wasn’t a shifting speedway. I was in an untold amount of pain after
Watkins Glen this year where we shifted constantly.

Cup cars
have manual transmissions and slowing down and speeding up involves shifting
gears—depending on what track you are at. Most of the times you’ll change the
gear ratio around so you’ll have either low or high gear and then of course
reverse but at Watkins Glen with the hairpin turns, straightaways and sweeping
corner you need three or four gears.

Ordinarily
you’d let off the gas and push in the clutch coasting through the corner in a
street car. In a cup car, you do not want to do that. Why? Because the clutch
is engaged, this means you’re simply idling. Getting up to race speed again
will make the car buck because the engine goes from idling to thousands of
RPM’s. Not only is this bad for the transmission but it makes the car
considerably harder to control.

This is
where “heel and toe” come into play. Most drivers, the good ones, have this technique
down. Others, it takes some getting used to.

As you
approach the turn, you begin to break. Your right foot is on the break while
you engage the clutch with your left foot.

Then you
pivot the heel of your right foot, keeping the ball on the break. Pressing the
accelerator to raise the engine RPM’s even though the car is decelerating.
Because you still have the clutch engaged you’re not actually increasing your
speed, just the RPM’s. Instead, it revs the engine enough to match the RPM’s to
the wheel speed.

Now
imagine doing all that in less than a second and then ten seconds later,
repeating that for four hours. You’re just a little sore by the end of these
races.

So by the
end of this season, retirement was looking good.

Going into
the race I was confident as always but the race wasn’t a sure shot. Fuel
mileage was the talk of the weekend and if I was honest with you, it was for us
as well.

Fuel
mileage over the years had become something else entirely with the harder
compound tires we were using. Every driver has their own ways of saving fuel
and very seldom shared those secrets. Most, me included, will lay-off the
breaks at times going around the corners and then hold in the clutch to let the
car roll through the corner. Other times you will only go half-throttle on
straight shots. Going wide-open, you burn more fuel. So if you shut the engine
off and then fire it back up in the front stretch, you can save fuel. This is
only in instances when you
know
you’re going to run out or you’re
really
taking a gamble.

Most
skilled drivers can actually save 10% more fuel on race days than others.
Calculating this can be the biggest conundrums for a team. It’s a fucking
nightmare at times. Kyle and Spencer definitely earn their keeps on these days.

Half way
through the race, Kyle announced the dreaded words. “Save some fuel bud.”

I did my
usual. Laid off the brakes, turned the car off on occasion and coasted when
needed.

I’m not
sure what lap we were on but the caution came out and I was hoping this was our
savior to make it on fuel. There’s nothing worse than wondering if you’ll spend
the entire race saving fuel only to run out with a lap to go or worse, on the
last turn, I’ve had that happen a time or two.

“Will we
make it now?” I asked eagerly.

“Yep,
we’re good.”

“What
changes are we doing?” I was running third at the time behind Bobby and Shelby
who were both strong cars today but I knew I had a car to contend with.

 “You
know what the car is doing.” Kyle said. “You go ahead and make the call.”

Kyle never
had a problem with me making the calls so I thought about it for a moment
before saying, “Let’s do a half round down on the right rear. Don’t change
anything else.”

“All right
you heard him.” He told Spencer who then began relaying the orders to the crew.

“Come this
time,
come on
!” Kyle said suddenly. “Pit road is open.”

“All right
...
4400 watch your speed.” Aiden reminded me.
“The six is pitting in front of you—go around the eleven.”

I managed to
squeeze myself in between the two cars and the crew swarmed me, flying around
doing what they did best and got us out in a 12.3 second pit stop to take over
the lead.

“Go hard,
go hard
...
all clear bud.” Kyle said. “Remember your
blend, cross over on the outside. All clear,”

“Fuck
yeah! That’s how it’s done.” I shouted to the boys. They needed to hear just
how much this meant to us.

“Nice pit
stop guys.” Both Kyle and Spencer told the crew. Though most had changed over
the years, our team still prided itself in excellent pit stops over the past
twenty years. They deserved a win today and that’s what I intended on giving
them. So far, I hadn’t won a race since I came back. I got second a few times
but no first place yet. Part of me wondered if I could still do it.

After that
pit stop, we hit more lapped cars but managed to get clean air after that.
Gradually a race shifts, drivers feel it, and time gets shorter. When the last
time you looked there were fifty laps, now there’s only a handful. It’s a time
when a race can be won or lost.

“Still
even
...
all clear.” Aiden said when I passed the last
lapped car.

“Seriously,
how many more laps?” I complained when I felt my shoulder aching.

Kyle
chuckled. “Sixty seven bud, almost there.”

“There’s
still some lapped traffic ahead of you.” Aiden said.

With
around ten to go, we hit a good bunch of cars and I felt pressure from behind
by Brody who was coming strong.

I made the
pass coming off four and then blocked him at the line. It only pissed him off.

“See if
the six and ten will help us out.” Kyle asked him fervently. He was getting a
little amped up of this.

“Already
talked to them, he’s got you.”

As Aiden
said, the six and ten moved up so I could get around them with five laps to go.

“It is all
clear up there, hang on.”

“Just tell
me to shut up.” I finally told them when I kept asking questions. “I know that
I can get a little excited here.”

“Don’t
worry. I will. The track is changing out there. Just be prepared.”

Now I was
getting amped. I could feel my heart pounding with the excitement of the win in
sight. I mean really, how cool would a win be on my last race, right?

If I was
retiring, I wanted to retire winning. That’s just me.

“Oh man
guys, we forgot to get Kyle off that box to perform the last pit stop.” I said
to the crew. Since I had announced my retirement, it had been an ongoing joke
that Kyle needed to perform that last pit stop with the guys. He thought
otherwise.

“I don’t
think so,” Kyle replied quickly.

“Oh I
think I remember you saying something about Spencer being able to get the job
done and that you could do it better.”

Garbled
chuckled came through the radio.

“I said
nothing like that.” You could actually hear the shaking in his voice. “Stop
putting words in my mouth. He’s sitting right next to me and I would like to
keep all my limbs today.”

“I think
you did.” I teased again.

“Nope,
didn’t.”

Needless
to say, even in my emotional state, it was ridiculously entertaining listened
to Kyle sweat like this.

“Stop joking
around and go for it bud,” Kyle said with three laps to go. “You got this one.”

Knowing
this might be my first win since I returned to racing, and my last, I got a
little worked up and then needed a distraction. “Give me lap times.” With the
anxiety rising in my chest, my hands, arms and legs were trembling. I was
amazed I could hang onto the car.

Kyle
laughed, “26.80 with a 27 flat behind you.”

“Bring it
home buddy!” Aiden said as though he was leading troops into battle.

“Got it
guys,” I laughed.

Then I saw
it, the white flag. Over the radio I heard the words I had been waiting on.
“One lap to go.”

I felt
like crying, not just any crying. I felt like body wrenching sobs.

This would
be the last white flag I took in a series I spent twenty years racing in. Words
couldn’t really describe what I was feeling in that moment.

As I came
out of turn four, everything turned to slow motion and I saw the flag in the
air. I literally closed my eyes when I crossed the line wanting to keep that
vision in my head.

“Whew!
Yeah
...
awesome
job boys!”
I pumped my fist out the window simultaneously screaming with
excitement, “Yeah!”

Every
single driver out there on the track pulled up to me to congratulate me on the
win. That’s a community right there. I actually felt bad for Shelby who won the
championship that night because really, his first championship was outweighed
by me winning my very last race.

“Impressive
...
nice burnout.” Kyle said when I destroyed the
car.

There was
so much smoke inside the car I couldn’t see any longer.

“And there
went the engine.” Aiden teased. “Heck why not, I bet Harry won’t ride your ass
on this one.”

I chuckled
into the radio waving my hand around to try and see clearly. “I got one last
question for you, Aiden.”

He laughed.
“What’s that bud?”

“Where’s
victory lane?”

“Left man,
just turn left.”

Drivers
tell you it’s just for fun, or maybe it is they just want to have fun. Remember
one thing, drivers are a different breed. They say it’s just for fun but they
don’t care if they win or lose. But they’re wrong and most that I’ve ever known
never say those words.

There’s
bragging rights, trophies, money, and once again, bragging rights. It’s never
just for fun. And as much as I said that season would be just for fun, it wasn’t.
I had something to prove once again that season. Did I mention I had some
bragging rights now?

Once I was
in victory lane, I don’t remember much. There were cameras, people screaming,
my family was there, it was insane
...
more so
than any race or championship I’d ever won.

Sway
lunged into my arms once I freed myself from my team who attacked me after I
got out of the car.  Her legs wrapped around my waist, her head buried
against my neck as she cried.

“I can’t
believe it!” she sobbed.

“I know.”
I’m not sure what she couldn’t believe but knowing myself, it was probably the
unreality of it all. Who has a season like this right before retirement?

Well, I
did. Because I gave it everything I had.

When the
announcers finally got my attention
...
you want
to know what I said right then?