The Champion (Racing on the Edge)

by Stahl, Shey

  “You’re going to fit in nicely with this family.” She told Lily.

  The rest of the night seemed to go smoothly which was a nice surprise. With Speedweeks just around the corner, I need smooth and relaxed.

  The rest of winter went by quickly as usual. Sway and I managed to sneak away to our other home in the Florida Keys a few weekends but most of the off-season was spent restructuring Riley-Simplex Racing.

  Jimi Riley was hanging up his helmet after forty-five seasons with the World of Outlaws. Though he was keeping his position as the owner, he was no longer racing in the outlaw series.

  So he said at least. We all knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t be able to stay away completely. I had a feeling if it was me, I wouldn’t be able to either. He would still be the owner of the cup team and his sprint car team as well so no, he wasn’t walking away completely. He’d still be around to tell us how badly he thought we were fucking up his business.

  I wasn’t retiring though, no, I was on top of my career right now. Having just won my fifteenth career championship, I felt like I could still give this sport a run. I was a champion and in my mind, I could be that legend everyone was pegging me to be.

  With Jimi retiring, guess who he hired to take over his position?

  Yep, the kid and my son, Axel.

  Axel would be racing his first season in the World of Outlaws.

  I had mixed feelings about this. Though USAC resembled NASCAR with its frequent rule changes and drama the Outlaw series was where the big money was at in sprint car racing. When drivers entered into that series, they usually stayed. Axel and I had a long talk when my dad came to me with his plan.

  “Did you know what series you wanted to run in right away?” he asked me one day when we were at the sprint car shop. I was finalizing the schedules for appearances for the guys and going over any sponsorship appearances we needed to attend.

  “I knew I wanted to race. That’s all that mattered to me.” I told him pushing my laptop aside to look at him sitting in front of my desk. “I did look at everything from Indy to even drag racing. In the end, I looked at where I could get the most exposure and that led me to NASCAR. It wasn’t about the money for me, it was about being me. My dad raced sprint cars and while my love for racing will always be related to sprint cars, NASCAR gave me the opportunity I was looking for.”

  “Was it hard for you being his son?”

  I thought about this for a moment because any pressure I ever felt from being Jimi Riley’s son, Axel felt but doubled. He not only had everyone telling him how good his grandfather was but then they told him how great his dad was.

  “It was hard but I think if anyone, you understand that feeling.”

  Only another racer can understand that feeling put upon you during a race but then you add who your family is. That legendary bloodline just adds that much more pressure to what you already feel.

  Axel sat there in the leather chair across from me twisting a spark plug around his fingers. “I want to race sprint cars.” He said after a few minutes of silence. “I think that’s where I’ve always belonged.”

  I knew that already. Even when USAC went to asphalt, he hated it. Much like me, his love for dirt would always be there. Both for different reasons. Asphalt scared Axel, I don’t know why and neither did he but some of his worst wrecks occurred on asphalt tracks. Dirt felt comfortable for him.

  For me, dirt was home. It reminded me of the greatest summer of my life, both frustrating and exciting. When I got inside a sprint car on dirt, to me, it was like coming home.

  “Do you think I can do this?” Axel asked when I smiled at the picture on my desk of me and him when he won the Chili Bowl.

  “I do buddy. Without a doubt, I know you’ll be good in whatever series you run. Go with your gut instinct.”

  His gut instinct was to race.

  “Have you ever felt pressured to race?” I asked him after a moment.

  Sway and I always worried the boys felt as though they had to race given my profession and my dad’s. While we knew where Casten stood in all it, I wasn’t sure about Axel. Maybe that’s why he constantly needed reassurance that he could do it.

  “No, I’ve always wanted to race.” He smiled remembering why he did. “I don’t remember how old I was but I think mom was pregnant with Casten. I just remember watching the memorial race for grandpa Charlie...I remember standing in the flag stand holding the flag when you, grandpa, Justin and Ryder came by on the front stretch four wide, engines rumbling...From then on, that’s what I wanted to do.”

  “That sound gets most people.” I nodded with a smile remembering the thunderous rumble from my childhood and watching guys like my dad and Bucky Miers.

  “What made you want to race?” he asked glancing at the other picture on my desk on Sway and me on our honeymoon in Rio right after he was born. I had to chuckle as it was one with my leg bleeding and her with the jellyfish sting.

  “Same as you,” My gaze shifted to the photograph beside that of Sway and I at Elma last spring. “I grew up watching grandpa race, just like you.” My eyes shifted to a photograph of my dad. It was the one of us singing Barton Hollow by The Civil Wars at a bar outside of Williams Grove after a race. That’s when I felt the pain in my chest that he was hangin’ up his helmet, something I thought he’d never do.

  “Racing has always been there for me and after a while, it was just the natural way to go.” I smiled at my son. “I could never imagine my life any other way than inside a race car.”

  Axel knew exactly what I was trying to say without me needing to go into any more detail. Like I said, racing was his gut instinct, just like mine was.

  He left after that and I sat there in my office looking over the pictures Sway and framed in there over the years. It’s hard to believe how quickly that last twenty years had gone by but I never regretted this lifestyle. It was me.

  A racer can’t be labeled or molded.

  Most guys in the garage area would agree with that statement.

  A racer doesn’t race for anyone but himself.

  Another statement most would agree with.

  Some have different theories but really, the victory was what you raced for. Now that victory can be, and was, owed to more than yourself but to get there, to get inside the car and decide to race, comes from within.

  At some point, you’re nothing until one day, you’re suddenly something. Worshipped by millions for something you did for yourself. Why is it that they suddenly thought you were different?

  What made them love you now when they didn’t before?

  I’ll tell you why. You had the balls to do what they never did. You got inside the car and pushed yourself to be the best. You did that. No one else did.

  What they don’t understand is that there will always be confessions that bared no sound and lived inside my head, my heart, and were my own desire. They were my own aspirations and something they never took the time to discover.

  I race for me. It’s not selfish. It’s me being me.

  I do it because that’s what I am and what is embedded into every fiber of my being.

  I race for the adrenaline, the power, the rumbling in my chest when behind the wheel. The sense of belonging in a sport that’s quick to prove you’re nothing but still, I race for me. That is what defined me.

  I can’t say every racer is the same but for the most part, they are.

  So now, with time, as one career was ending, another was just beginning in a sport that was forever changing.

  Throughout death and despair, our family had once again kept it together. We were, just as we always had been, a woven mesh window net holding it together.

  In my mind, we were a championship team.

  First they ignore you, then they laugh at you, then they fight you, then you win.

  ~Ghandi

  Turn the page for more than just a taste.

  Behind the Wheel

  Outtakes from

  Racing o
n the Edge

  Force

  Jimi Riley

  Force – In physics, a force is any influence that causes on object to undergo change in speed, a change in direction, a change in motion, or a change in shape. In other words, a force is that which can cause an object with mass to change its velocity (which includes to begin moving from a state of rest). For example, to accelerate, or which can cause a flexible object to deform. Force can also be described by intuitive concepts such as a push or pull. A force has both magnitude and direction, making it a vector quantity.

  I’ve seen a lot of race car drivers in my time, and they’re all addicted to the same things

  Speed.

  It comes before food, sleep and time with their families. It becomes the most important thing to them and nothing else matters.

  It controls them.

  What they don’t realize at the time is living on that high doesn’t last forever. Eventually you come out the other side and you’re forced to go through life just like everyone else. But the problem is that race car drivers don’t have the option to be normal.

  Even after retirement, you’re not normal. You are constantly searching for what will give you that same adrenaline rush that speed gave you because only then do you feel like yourself. After all, that’s what you’ve associated yourself with all these years. You literally don’t know yourself without it.

  I thought for the longest time that I was the only one who felt this. I was wrong. My son felt the same thing and then eventually his oldest felt it too.

  There does come a time when racing isn’t all that matters and you find yourself wanting to provide your family with the same support they show you.

  For over forty years, my wife showed me support, unconditional love, and friendship above all else. I knew if I had a bad night at the track, I could come home and Nancy would, as always, be there waiting for me with open arms.

  When Jameson came to me and told me he wanted to race, I had mixed emotions because for one, this lifestyle isn’t for everyone and secondly, I knew if he did race he would put everything he had into it. He was so young when he started that it was hard to imagine what he’d become. I was the same age when I started racing but for me, I had a childhood. I raced when I wanted but it wasn’t everything, I was still a kid. I got into trouble, played baseball, did all the normal childhood things.

  Jameson was different.

  While Spencer and Emma messed around, played sports and interacted with their friends, Jameson did not outside of Sway and occasionally Tommy. He was at Elma any chance he could get, outside in my shop or out back on the track. There were no boys being boys or sleepovers with his friends, Jameson was all about racing.

  Up until he was eleven and when he wasn’t in school, he traveled with me for a lot of the races. Nancy was worried but at the time, I didn’t think much of it until he got into high school and I saw how different he was from the kids he went to school with.

  While most kids enjoyed graduation activities and even graduation itself, Jameson didn’t. While the other kids mingled with their friends and talked about what their plans were for post-graduation, Jameson stayed against the wall with an annoyed look on his face that he even had to attend the ceremony. And once he got his diploma, he left to go racing without another word to his classmates.

  The day they left was hard for Nancy and me. Here we were letting our children, two of whom were under eighteen, travel across the country to support a dream. But it was a dream all of us believed in. We all knew he could do it because once Jameson set out to accomplish something, he did it and with such entrancing poise you were left in awe that a kid could do that. At barely eighteen he dominated the premiere USAC divisions against veterans, rookies, and legends of sprint car racing. My kid, the same little shit who would sneak out in the middle of the night to race on the track when the full moon was out because he knew he could see. And the same little boy who used to ask for race car parts for Christmas when other little boys wanted trains and Legos. Clearly he wasn’t your normal kid. But I think that’s why he was able to do what he did.

  Sway was good for him because I think she kept him from going insane. The pressures put upon racecar drivers are unlike any other sport in my mind. While there is a team effort just as any sport, the pressure put a driver is arduous. I also knew, if anyone could, it was him.

  Whereas I wanted time to myself at times, Jameson never showed interest in that. The time to himself was on the track. I was thankful for Sway because in more than one way, she was the force that made him who he was. I honestly believed that if they hadn’t come together, Jameson would have eventually walked away from racing and in turn, regretted it. You see with Jameson, as many know, his all or nothing attitude can destroy you after a while. And that’s exactly what it would have done to him. It’s hard to explain if you hadn’t witnessed it with your own eyes but the force was there and strong between them.

  I liked to think Nancy and I had a bond like them and in a way we did. But it wasn’t perilously as vital for us. I knew if something happen to Nancy, I would be miserable but I could go on for the sake of my children and our family, as could Nancy.

  I also believed that Jameson and Sway could not.

  I witnessed it first hand when Jameson almost lost Sway when she was pregnant with Axel. If she hadn’t made it, I would hate to think what would have become of my son as he would have been a distant, even more callous version of himself and probably would have been in prison.

  Not that the rest of our families wouldn’t have been hurting because Sway was just as much of a part of our family as anyone but the bond between those two was stronger than something you’d see it identical twins.

  When they brought their first born son into the world, I was in absolute awe that he resembled Jameson as much as he did. It was like looking into a mirror not only in their physical appearances but their mentality on life in general. It was hard to imagine someone could be so similar to a person who was so uncannily rare and was now imitated in this little guy.

  He wasn’t exactly like him once he started racing. Jameson never showed nervousness or hesitation on the track whereas Axel did. He constantly needed reassurance that he could do it. I never had to tell Jameson he was great, he knew it. There again was a vigor very few had.

  I like to think Nancy and I had a hand in this but I don’t think it was us. We never told him to race nor did we encourage it really. Spencer never showed interest in it but with Jameson when he first saw me race he was around six weeks old and from then on any time he heard a sprint car, he was captivated and that’s where the fire in him came from.

  The rest of us, well we were just there for support.

  Galvanized Steel

  Nancy Riley

  Galvanized Steel – A specifically zinc-coated steel used on many major painted panels and in key unpainted areas of a vehicle to help prevent rust and corrosion.

  If you asked me to describe my family, I’d give you one simple answer, loving.

  They may have been slightly unstable at times but all of them brought love to this family in their own ways.

  Jimi and I married when I was eighteen and soon along came Spencer James Riley. He was the sweetest little boy. He smiled a lot, ate a lot and enjoyed the simple things in life. It never took much to please him and if you needed him for anything, no matter what you needed, he was finding a way to help you.

  Once Jameson Anthony came along, Spencer was in heaven having a little brother. The only problem was that Jameson, even as a newborn wasn’t thrilled with having Spencer around. He also hated to be touched and prodded; two things little boys love to do.

  Even as a baby, Jameson was independent. By one month old, he was holding his own bottle, that’s how determined he was.

  All this independency from Jameson and lovingness from Spencer caused it’s fair share of complications between them but eventually they found middle ground, as long as Spencer didn’t touch Jameson he was
tolerable of him.

  Jimi was in heaven having two little boys. Though he never said it, I knew he hoped they’d follow in his footsteps.

  One cold winter night while Jimi and I were in Vail Colorado visiting friends, we left the boys with his parents. Let’s just say we made use of the alone time.

  That resulted in Emma. Jimi was not excited about a third child, as it was right around the time when his career was really taking off with the Outlaw series. At the time, it was a 96-race schedule which allowed little alone time. Now we had three little ones and no alone time at all.

  When Emma Lynn was born at the end of August, Spencer was once again very excited at the new addition. Jameson was not.

  She loved to chew on him and he was not one to enjoy this. He used to scream at the top of his lungs if you put lotion on him while Emma would bath herself in it.

  All three of them were completely different but Jameson was by far the most steadfast of the three.

  Spencer finally crawled at one and didn’t walk until he was eighteen months. Jameson on the other hand was crawling at four months and walking by the time he was eight months—right over to Jimi’s sprint car.

  That never changed.

  He spent hours out there just sitting in the car playing with steering wheel. He never needed toys. Didn’t like them. All he wanted was a sprint car.

  Spencer just went with things and wanted to help in any way he could. He, just like the rest of us, saw early on Jameson’s passion for racing. I remember asking him why he didn’t care to race when Jameson, at just four, showed such strong interest.

  Spencer’s response, “That’s his thing. I don’t have the talent he does for racing.”

  I’m not sure that it was a lack of talent in racing or if it was just that Jameson was that focused on one goal. Spencer lacked the attention span for that.