by Stahl, Shey
The format for the race was a little different; they ran both midgets and sprints that night with a 98-lap midget main event.
I ended up qualifying sixth, Justin got fast time while Tyler got fourth and Ryder ended up tenth.
When the green flag dropped for the main, I was on a mission feinting my way to the lead.
Justin had pulled away to a good lead around lap thirty-five when I caught him. He seemed to be using up his tires because I passed him with ease and that wasn’t normal for him. Justin started strong and stayed strong. I should have known he wouldn’t stay back there for long and with ten laps to go he and Tyler were all over me.
I held my ground but with one lap to go, Tyler came on strong and passed us both like we were sitting still.
Now I can’t say I wasn’t pissed because I was. I wanted to win Turkey Night just as bad as the next guy but to have a guy like Tyler who struggled each weekend just to make it to these races for lack of sponsorship, win was fine with me. I was proud of him. He deserved it.
I ended up second with Justin third. Ryder blew a tire half way through and then pegged the wall so he finished near the rear somewhere.
Despite all this, we were all celebrating with Tyler that night and eating turkey. We put our own envy aside and showed respect and goodwill for the seventeen-year old kid from Birmingham, Alabama.
We all had a lot of respect for each other going back to our days racing quarter midgets. I think we all developed a real appreciation for our talents.
The hardest part about wanting to win so badly was that it would mean beating another guy, in this case a friend of mine, who deserved that same win just as bad. He got it that night.
I’ve said this before but a good showing at the Chili Bowl Midget Nationals or Turkey Night can make a huge difference in a racer’s career. It can mean leaving with sponsorship or searching once again over the winter for a seat.
Tyler left there with a full-time ride from Ron Walker, one of the biggest most respected owners in USAC. So even though I held some bitterness that I didn’t win Turkey Night, it was rewarding to see a guy like Tyler Sprague pull it off.
14. Redlining – Jameson
Redlining – The maximum engine speed at which the internal combustion engine or traction motor and its components are designed to operate without causing damage to the components themselves or other parts of the engine. The redline of an engine depends on various factors such as stroke, mass of the components, displacement, composition of components and balance of components. Redlining means it’s reached its maximum speed.
I was surprised at how quickly my winter filled up. I thought for sure I’d get bored at some point but never had the chance. I managed to go play around one weekend at Crystal Mountain with Spencer and Tommy on a pair of snowmobiles but other than that, I hung around the house and caught up on sleep for a good couple of weeks. Before I knew it Christmas was there and then soon I was heading east again.
The World of Outlaws started their season in February and then the USAC divisions opened soon after that.
I planned to make every race I could. I needed to be prepared and prepared meant racing anything I could.
I still hadn’t decided on what cars I wanted to run professionally. There were so many options I just moved from one division to the next testing my ability in each one.
My brother, like the dumbass I always knew him to be, was planning a wedding. I had nothing against marriage. I just didn’t think my brother was the marrying type.
When he was in high school, I was positive he slept with the entire female population and now he was supposedly settled down? I highly doubted that. He and Alley had been together for a few years now but still, it just didn’t seem like something he would do. I guess maybe the reservations I held for it had something to do with myself as I couldn’t see tying myself to someone or something other than racing.
Spencer was different though and he loved Alley. That was evident and he never showed any signs of regret.
They got married on January 2, 1999; the perfect date for Spencer because he couldn’t forget the date since it was the day after his twenty-second birthday and it was one-two.
At least we knew he could count that high.
Luckily, since I stayed so busy, I hadn’t seen anyone from high school, which was fine by me. I didn’t like any of those assholes anyway except for Tommy and Sway.
On the day of the wedding I walked over to Sway’s house to pick her up. She was my date and I silently hoped she was wearing the same tutu from prom. I smiled to myself thinking of her dancing around in it that night in the tree house.
The cool crisp winter air blew across my face, burning. It had snowed a few nights ago leaving a few patches on the frozen grass along with traces of ice along the sidewalks. Keeping my eyes focused on the pavement so I didn’t slip, I realized I had walked past her house and had to back track. When I got there, the front door was open and I could hear her and Charlie talking in the living room.
“I expect you to take the classes like we discussed, Sway. You can’t follow that boy around forever.” Charlie reproached. “He’s just using you.”
I stepped down off the porch and sat down on the steps resting my elbows on my knees.
Was I using her?
Well, yes, I was but I didn’t think it was using. I needed her.
After about five minutes of sitting there, Sway walked out wearing a short black dress with matching heels.
Instantly, I averted my eyes when all I saw were her long lean legs tempting me.
It was going to be a long fucking night.
“How long have you been here?”
“Long enough,” I mumbled.
“You heard?”
“Yeah,”
She sighed sitting beside me, shivered and scooted closer.
“I’m sorry...Jesus it’s cold.”
“Do you think I’m using you?”
She answered immediately, her voice sure. “No. Not at all. I go because I want to.”
I only nodded and she shivered again.
“You should put a coat on or something.”
“I would but I don’t want to go back inside.”
I knew exactly why she didn’t want to go back inside so I slipped out of my jacket and draped it over her shoulders.
“We should get going. I can’t look at your legs much longer without my self control wavering.” I admitted.
Sway laughed and I smiled. I’d do anything to hear that giggle. “Let’s go to a wedding.”
I found Spencer once we arrived and gave him my speech. “Are you sure about this?”
I wasn’t much of a best man so luckily he had chosen someone else for that duty. But I did feel it was my place as a brother to offer some words. Good or bad, I offered them.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
“You used to be a slut.”
Spencer shrugged and stared back at me analyzing my expression.
“People change.” His voice seemed to hold some warning but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what the hell he was talking about.
It might have had something to do with the fact that I was working on a 6-pack of Coors Light but that’s beside the point.
“How did you know she was the one?”
Spencer dropped down beside me on the couch as we waited for the wedding to begin.
He was a nervous groom. I was drunken groomsman and we were quite the pair.
“I’m not sure how I knew...she puts up with my shit, and for the first time, I wanted someone.” He intoned. “I want her, always.”
I just listened to him. I couldn’t say much. I’d never felt the way he did. He loved someone and while I had feelings for Sway, I didn’t know what love even meant to me or if I loved anything besides racing.
“Jameson,” Spencer turned to me removing the beer from my hands. “There will come a point when racing isn’t everything to you. Someday, you’ll understand the
way you feel about her.”
I’m sure my expression was slightly alarmed that he implied Sway. “It’s not like that with us. We’re just friends.”
Spencer laughed shaking his head and then stood. “Come on bro, let’s get me hitched!”
The wedding was simple. Alley planned everything perfectly with the help of Emma. Spencer didn’t have to do anything, which was a good fucking thing because you couldn’t expect him to do much of anything at a wedding besides be there and say “I do”.
Sway and Emma were Alley’s bridesmaids. I spent more time staring at Sway in her dress than listening to what the preacher said because she looked absolutely beautiful. It wasn’t fair to Alley to have someone like Sway standing next to her that’s for sure.
I started to get antsy standing up there when the words were finally spoken, “Spencer James Riley, do you take this woman to be your wife?”
To my surprise, his response was a tad emotional. “Yes,”
“Do you, Allison Nicole Dailey, take this man to be your husband?”
She said yes, they kissed everyone cheered and the reception was underway, so was I with the open bar.
I don’t know why I felt I needed to drink, I just did. My dad noticed around my fifth beer while I glared in Cooper’s direction as he danced with Sway.
That was another thing I couldn’t understand. Why was I so jealous over this? When someone else beside me touched her, I got a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach and a tight pain in my chest.
“What are you doing over here?” he asked over the blaring music. “Why aren’t you tearing it up out there on the dance floor with your girl? I know you got moves kid.”
“My girl?”
“Sway...she’s your girl.” He slurred.
Judging by his appearance, I wasn’t sure I wanted his advice tonight. He had just flew in from Australia this morning so I gathered he was jet lagged but he looked as though he’d had too much whiskey.
“She’s not my girl, dad.” I snapped cracking open another beer.
No, she wasn’t my girl. I had no claim to her but for some reason, I wanted to. I wanted to be the one out there holding her.
Dad snatched the beer away. “You’re not of age, give that to me.”
“Since when have you ever worried about me drinking? If I remember correctly, you gave me my first beer.”
“Yeah well I’m clearly not a good role model.” He held up his glass and tilted his head at Sway. “You’ve learned nothing when it comes to treating women with respect.”
That pissed me off. My eyes that had once focused on Sway shot to his.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
There was a double meaning behind his words and both meanings pissed me off, probably because it was true.
“You know all these tracks you go to and fuck around at?” he arched his eyebrow at me setting my beer down on the table in front of us. I watched as Cooper pulled Sway closer for a slow dance.
“What are you talking about?”
“You dumbass...those women, those trophy girls...yeah well, when I come around they want to know why my son hasn’t called.”
“And you say?”
“He’s an asshole.”
“Hmmm,” I reached for the beer again, this time he let me have it. “At least you’re not lying.”
Jimi stood and cracked his neck to one side.
“Go rescue her from him. There’s something not right about Cooper.” He motioned toward Sway.
Cooper’s hands were dangerously low and it made my stomach drop.
I could be that guy right now if I just pulled my head out of my ass. She did deserved better. I was an asshole.
I watched for a while before retreating. They seemed to be having fun and when he bent down to kiss her; I hated the jealous feeling raging through me, so I left. My brother’s wedding was the last place I needed to cause a scene.
Redlining – Sway
I hadn’t seen Jameson for most of the reception but when I did, I was surprised at his rigid posture and defiant stare my direction.
He came toward me but instead of coming where we were all gathered dancing, he bypassed us all and headed for the bar. I tried to grab him but he shook me off and reached over the bar taking the bottle of Jack Daniels and left out the back entrance.
It didn’t take long to find him. He was leaning next to the wall, his jacket thrown over his shoulder and the white sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to his elbows.
“I should have told you he’d be here.”
“Don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong.” He sighed with closed eyes taking a drink straight from the bottle and then sliding down the wall to sit on the cold pavement.
I contemplated sitting next to him but decided against it in this dress and the cold ground.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” he answered.
“Is this about what Charlie said?”
“No.”
“Cooper?”
“No.”
“You’re lying.”
“Yeah well, I’m an asshole so I guess maybe I’m a liar too.”
“You don’t always have to be an asshole. And being a liar is up to you but that’s not us.”
He simply grunted in reply and kicked his legs out to lean further back against the wall.
This was my fault. I shouldn’t have agreed to dance with Cooper but then again I couldn’t figure out why that was even a big deal.
Was he jealous? Nah, that couldn’t be it. I thought Jameson wasn’t the jealous type.
“So it’s not Charlie, it’s not Cooper...is it me?”
He threw his arms up in the air in frustration.
“I’m just...I’m...It’s nothing!” he snapped causing me to jump. “Drop it.”
We sat in silence for a few minutes before he sighed with a growl and pulled his knees up.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just frustrated with a lot of things right now. It’s not you though.”
I shrugged. I’d been on the receiving end of his temper tantrums long enough to know it wasn’t me. I should have been pissed but then again, I didn’t take it personally. He meant absolutely nothing by it.
I never did figure out where all the moodiness came from but within a few hours and half the bottle of Jack Daniels, we found ourselves back on the dance floor together this time. Jameson could barely stand let alone dance so he spent most of the time with me holding him up.
I don’t know why I let him take his frustrations out on me but if I had to guess these days, it was because to me that’s what friends were for. If he couldn’t show frustration to me, who could he show it to? To me, that’s the best friend I could ever ask for. He was one I could vent to and understood. He was one that never asked questions and was simply there because they wanted to be. That was us.
Redlining – Jameson
As winter passed, I found myself in Barberville Florida for the sprint car DIRTcar Nationals and then it was onto Ocala Florida for the USAC Sprint season opener in February with the rest of my team including Sway.
Judging by the conversation I’d heard from Charlie, Sway wouldn’t be traveling as much and by mid-summer, she’d missed an entire month of racing including the Knoxville Nationals and the Kings Royal which were two sprint car events she loved to attend.
It wasn’t the same without her. I found myself turning to other women in the hopes that they provided a blanket for the pain but it did nothing; it only made me feel worse and guilty but I still turned to them. And it was easy.
I didn’t even have to try. When the race was over, they were all over me. They knew what they wanted and I just wanted relief. They never asked questions and never expected anything from me. It was almost like a silent agreement and it worked well with my lifestyle.
My season started out shitty, got shittier and then ended shitty. It was by far the worst season I’d ever run but I took comfort
in knowing all the frontrunners struggled too. I ended up third in the Silver crown division, we struggled constantly with the asphalt tracks and when half the races are on asphalt—it did nothing for our points.
I did better in the midgets and ended up second in points but the sprint cars I placed fifth. I was not pleased with that at all. I was pissed actually.
I still raced in everything I could and won quite a bit but it wasn’t enough. It seemed that besides the asphalt tracks we struggled on the dry-slick as well. By winter, we did some serious re-structuring and even switched manufacturers of a few parts.
Something wasn’t right and I didn’t feel that my driving ability had dropped off because I could still compete at the same level in the Outlaw sprints, late models and the occasional modified.
Top five finishes in all three divisions wasn’t bad but I was a perfectionist and hated losing.
Justin and Tyler felt the same way so on the way back from Turkey Night, that I once again lost, this time to Justin, we vented.
“I can’t believe this fucking season!” I griped. “I’ve never raced this horribly.”
“I feel your pain man,” Tyler said. “I think I destroyed ten cars this season and a few concrete walls.”
“Yeah well,” Justin began tossing his bag in the overhead compartment on the plane we were boarding. “I got more fines than both you put together.”
“Tsk tsk tsk, Justin.” I taunted. “You should have learned pushing a USAC official.”
“Yeah, like you?” he countered sitting down next to me.
He may have beaten me in fines but that was only because I harassed them in ways I didn’t get caught. It seemed that I spent more time defending my actions on the track than I did racing but when you’re having luck like our team was and sponsors began breathing down your neck, you tend to get a little fired up at times. Those who didn’t understand that clearly didn’t understand the pressures put upon us.