The Legend (29 page)

“You need
to realize that this sport doesn’t need you. You don’t make sprint car racing
and I guarantee it will go on without you. That’s the harsh reality of it all.”

“I never
said it needed me. But I do provide
a certain
...
appeal
.”

“Sure you
do. But there’s a point when you become a liability to me.”

“Are you
saying I’m fired?” Rager asked leaning against the wall in the shop, his hat
pulled down so all I saw were the shadows of his eyes.

“No, I’m not
saying that. But this
...
” I
motioned to the paperwork in front of me from Solar Seals stating they had
enough and would consider pulling out of the No. 99 sponsorship. “This
stupidity
is a liability to me and the team.
You need to control your emotions.”

“Like you
do?”

“This
isn’t about me kid.”

Rager
shook his head. “What is it then?”

“Let me
ask you something
...
” I leaned
back in my chair relaxing. “What kind of appeal do you think you provide to
this team?”

“Winning,”
he snorted. “I won more feature events then all your other drivers, including
your 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. “You
know, 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 you
can’t stay in a race?”

Rager
didn’t say any more, just stared back at me. He knew if he didn’t win, he was
in the wall or being towed back to the pits. And though having a driver that
gave it everything was great, sponsors wanted a driver who was consistent.

“You have
to look at what you want to do. You spend more time in the faces of the other
driver than racing. Racing is what you’re paid to do. Me, your sponsors, we pay
you to finish and unless you run up front, win, snag top five’s and be
consistent, you’ll be looking for another job. That’s just the way it is in
this sport.”

He nodded
but said nothing more. My final piece of advice was something my dad told me
often in my rookie season.

“There’s a
fine line, Rager.” My head tipped to one side. “A
very
fine line,”

When he
left, I sat in my office enjoying the quiet. My thoughts went back to the
gnawing feeling the offseason brought with it each year. I felt like I was
always going somewhere but where? Pinched against the wall?

The
off-season was always the same, only now I had more responsibility between the
teams. I understood how my dad felt back in 2003 and trying to control me when
I had to deal with Rager. I also understood how Simplex felt now seeing from
the outside.

Simplex is
a family owned business and had been from day one. They didn’t like any
negative impact. If a driver representing them was suspended for a race, that
didn’t look good.

All
sponsors are image-conscious and want themselves represented in a certain way.

That never
changes.

Rager
Sweet was just a driver, a twenty year old kid really. He had no idea that if
that car wasn’t on the track, Solar Seals and
PowerPlus
were not getting the publicity that they paid for. In turn, I wasn’t holding up
my end of the bargain. The guys back at the shop suffered because they spent
hundreds of hours preparing the car only to have it destroyed by him. Come
Monday or whenever it was they saw the car again, they repaired everything he
broke only to have him destroy another one the next week.

That’s
where the real eye-opener came for me when I was his age. You don’t realize how
much of a team effort all this is until you walk through one of our shops
during the week.

The
eye-opener came for me when that race with Tate, the night race at Bristol. We
had been battling hard all
race
and the car was pretty
much destroyed when we left. There wasn’t a straight piece of metal on that car
and the engine, I ran it hard. Brakes were destroyed and the gears were shot
too.

Well when
the 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 put
back on, mechanics put in a new engine and new suspension.  A new body was
put on, painted, polished and put back in the shop for our next trip to Bristol
or Martinsville. What I never realized, until then, was how many guys touched
that car afterward. When I destroyed a car, something like twelve different
guys back at the shop spent Monday fixing it. When you think about it like
that, everyone had a job to do, everyone was paid from that money that the
sponsor provided, you understand what a team effort it was. You understood that
your actions dictated others.

It was a
full circle effort and when the driver didn’t hold up his end of the deal, that
wasn’t good.

The sooner
Rager realized that, the better. I knew enough about being an owner to this
team that no two drivers were the same nor were your kids the same. There were
lines that needed to be followed though when you’re dealing with multi-million
dollar contracts.

When
pinched against the wall, everyone reacted differently and responded as such.
There’s times when you get sped up and take the position, stand up when people
try to convince you to douse yourself in baby oil, or you can slow down, and
let them take the position when you’re drivers need a reality check. Put the
move in their pit and see how well they can race.

Once the
racing season had ended, we made some time to get together as a family. We
weren’t all together enough and my parents decided to host Thanksgiving dinner
at their place.

Big mistake that was.
It was also the first time in ten years that I had seen my cousin,
Rex, my uncle Randy’s son. Randy Riley, my dad’s brother, was the vice
president of Riley-Simplex Racing so I got to deal with him more than I cared.
Though he was never approachable, I could tolerate him. Rex I could not.

“Don’t be
surprised if I get arrested tonight.” I advised Sway as we got ready to go over
to my parent’s house next door.

“Hmmm
...
” reaching for the door, helmet in hand, she
smiled and looked contemplatively back at me. “It wouldn’t be the first time I
bailed you out of jail.”

“True.”

Stumbling down
the driver, she headed over to my Triumph Speed Triple I had purchased a few
weeks back. “Throw me on the back of your bike and ride away in the sunset.”
Sway said to me flipping her hair.

“Are you
drunk already?” I asked with a laugh and set her on the back of the bike.

She
giggled. “I may have had a drink
...
or two
...
but don’t judge me. It’s a holiday and we
drink on the holidays, remember?”

“Oh I
remember.” I put the helmet on her and kissed the visor. “I’m just jealous you
didn’t share.”

Sway
reached inside her bra and pulled out a flask. “Have at it.”

“I just
fell so much more in love with you that you brought a flask, and that you carry
it in your fucking bra.”

She
winked.

When we
got to my parent’s house, all hell was breaking loose. Casten and Arie were
already over there. Lily and Axel were making out in the corner.

“Jeez,
they act like newlyweds.” I groaned looking away from my son.

Sway
pushed a drink at me. “We need this.”

“How did
you get a drink that fast?” Looking around I understood. Lexi was making her
bartending skills, no doubt a product of Spencer and his ability to have his
children make him drinks, carrying a tray of what looked to be eggnog and
whiskey. “I’ll take that.” I said reaching for my own and peered back at my
wife. “Remember those photo’s?”

She
nodded, her lips wrapped around her straw. I glared.

“Well,
what’d you say you show me how much you enjoyed them tonight and give me some
love?”

“
Pft
,” she flipped her hand at me as she reached into her
shit, pulled out her flask and added more alcohol to her eggnog. “Like I’ve
said, I’m a sure thing. Think of me as a guaranteed sponsor.”

I gave her
a nod and a wink of my own. “We could skip dinner and get straight to the
race.”

“You’re
here!” My mom squealed and I knew my attempts of getting away were over.
Although she did shove food my way and it was all I needed to get distracted.
Spencer was there too, eating of course, so I rolled my sleeves up and sat next
to him for a little while. We talked about the last race in Homestead and parts
breaking.

That’s
about the time I ran into Rex, my cousin I didn’t care for. “Hey Jay,” he said.

I didn’t
like being called Jay. My name was Jameson and I didn’t appreciate people
shortening it just because it was easier for them. Jay wasn’t my name. My wife
didn’t even call me that. The only person who ever got away with it was my
grandpa Casten and Lane when he was little because he couldn’t say Jameson.
Everyone else I was quick to correct.

“It’s
Jameson.” I replied. My eyes met his. “I’m sure you remember.”

“I do. I
just don’t care,” was his reply.

Without
another word, I looked at my feet and walked away. If he wasn’t going to treat
me with respect, I wasn’t going to talk to him.
Simple as
that.

Arie found
me next and for once she was smiling. “Why are you smiling?”

“Well,”
Arie sat down next to me at the table beside my dad who was drinking right
along with Sway and my uncle Randy. “I was wondering if I could go to Chili
Bowl Nationals with Axel and the boys this year.”

“Why would
you want to go with them? You hate that race.”

“I never
said I hated it.” Aries’ eyes darted around the room as if she was avoiding
what she wanted to tell me. “I just think he needs my help. The whole team
needs my help.”

“Fine,
okay.”

Arie followed
Lexi who walked past and I caught the last portion of their conversation and
knew I had been worked over. “
...
so he
agreed to it?”

Aries’
eyes widened when she saw me watching them.

I didn’t feel
like knowing what they didn’t want me to. Arie was seventeen and was doing
good
these days. She wasn’t getting into trouble anymore and
for the most part she was making smart decision.

“Hey, Uncle Jameson?”
Cole called out from the family room holding a DVD in his hand with
excited blue eyes. “I finished the video.”

Sway and I
moved to the family room to watch the newest video he had created. Cole was
into photography and making movies. Throughout the season Cole had been
capturing video and photographs in an attempt to create a video for JAR Racing.
When he told me he what he was doing I figured it would be something like a
slide show. I had no idea Cole had the talent that he did.

The screen
was black first with just our JAR Racing logo splashed across the screen before
you heard thunder cracking and the sounds of a rain storm. After a few seconds,
cheering moved the video along followed by the beat of a heavy metal song. The
screen flashed between black images and action shots of in-car footage of me,
Axel, Justin and all the other boys manhandling sprint cars at Knoxville,
Eldora, Williams Grove and Lernerville. There were clips of the boys working on
the cars, shots of us at the shop, video of wins for Justin, Rager and Tyler.
Images of Axel’s win at Knoxville Nationals. Cody sweeping Four Crown Nationals
and numerous other shots all detailing the season. It ended with a video of
Axel and my dad walking back to the hauler after the World Finals.

“Wow!” was
what most of us said to him. I knew Cole had talent of some sort, but most of
the time I often wondered if his talent was causing trouble. Now at least he
had a future in making videos.

“At least
he made a decent video this time.” Lane said sitting next to my dad. “The one
from the party was—”

Casten
pummeled Lane.

“Jameson,”
Sway captured my attention before I could question my youngest and the video.
“I don’t like the fact my son is getting married. Go pull them apart.”

Glancing
over my shoulder, Axel was still glued to his bride to be. “No. I’m not going
over there.”

“You’re a
horr
—” she began but stopped.

Shit move
or not, I kicked my wife.

“Asshole.”
She
mouthed.

I winked.

Soon
dinner was served, more alcohol was consumed, my dad was shit faced, and my mom
couldn’t be happier that we were all together.

“Jay,” Rex
began again clasping my shoulders as he walked past us raising his eyebrows
suggestively as if he knew what to expect from his comment.