by Stahl, Shey
But most of all, I wasn’t about to be pushed around. I didn’t risk everything to just be just an average driver. I risked it all to be the best and that’s what I was becoming, temper or not.
That temper got me in my fair share of wrecks that summer as well, most of which I walked away from but there were a few I either crawled or stumbled away from.
At Eldora in the middle of September while racing a Silver crown car, I took a few flips on the back stretch coming out of turn two and landed on the guardrail upside down. I felt that one.
When they flipped me back over I was able to get out. It was apparent after a few steps that I was going to need to get checked out. I could barely put one foot in front of the other. I waved to the crowd when they started cheering but that’s about all I was able to do. Once inside the infield care center they had set up I collapsed.
My knees were sore and bruised from the impact; all the blood vessels in my face had broken and my arms and legs had no many bruises on them you’d think someone beat me with a baseball bat. I was a mess. I ended up spending the night in the hospital with a broken rib and a concussion on top of all that bruising.
I called Sway from the hospital that night to tell her what happened. I hoped they hadn’t announced it on the news or anything. She freaked out and told me she was skipping classes for a week to come see me but I wouldn’t let her. She just needed to finish college so I could have my friend back.
I knew where the failure went wrong. It was a combination of everything and to rebuild I had to do it right. Right meant focusing on what was important, racing, and Sway focusing on what was important for her, school. Later we could figure out where we stood. I hoped.
That season it seemed I wasn’t the only one doing rough driving. Justin and Tyler were making themselves known as well for being hotheads. Justin punched a USAC official after a race in Lernerville and Tyler sent a kid to the hospital when the kid pushed him.
You don’t push the beasts from the east and just walk away. There was a reason they were called the fire breathing beasts from the east, even I knew that.
The veteran drivers weren’t pleased with us and they had every right not to be but I understood them. Here these kids were coming into the divisions they had once been winning in and now all of a sudden they weren’t, the kids were.
Jimi found humor in it and joked that he was going to retire but other drivers, like Hank Feldman, didn’t like it. Hank had been racing in the series as long as my dad but he was not about to let the kids over run him.
I understood why Hank raced that way. He was a veteran driver but no one realizes the pressures put upon these guys to race, but not only race, to win. The longer they go without a win and shoddy performances, the harder it is for them. I knew why he raced that way and respected him and the other veterans. They made this sport what it is today and they deserved respect in my mind so that’s how I raced them. I raced them as if they were all my dad and I’d never rough up my own dad on the track for the simple fact that I feared him out there. If there was one driver who could fool you, it was him.
Sway took another break in October for Thanksgiving and Christmas so this meant she was there for the last few races of the season.
Having Sway back around also meant the women I usually found myself giving into, didn’t exist. I had all eyes on Sway these days and that scared the shit out of me after what happened to Justin and Ami. It didn’t stop us from kissing and touching but I kept it innocent as did she.
She seemed different, hesitant even. I wondered if she found someone at times but then again I thought she’d tell me. Tommy kept tabs on her and said she only hung out with girls at school that he could see. Tommy also took a break but was finishing his degree in Engineering. He wanted to continue working on my cars but also felt he needed to get the education to back it up. It made me feel better to know that Tommy was there with her and was ensuring the scum bags stayed away.
When she was here with me on the road, it was like she never left. We were back to our usual selves, flirting, touching, and teasing each other. That’s what I enjoyed most about her company. I could be myself for one but it was just easy. Even after months of separation, it was as though we’d never been apart.
Slowly my engine was rebuilt and now was time for maintaining it. Proper maintenance was essential. What maintains the life of your engine?
Proper maintenance and lubrication. It took me a long time to discover the cause to the failure, an entire racing season to be exact but it was me.
I let it happen and damn sure wasn’t about to let it happen again.
16. Tether – Jameson
Tether – This is a braided Kevlar double strap that is bolted to the wheel on one end of the chassis as well as on the other end which keeps the wheel attached to the chassis in case of an accident.
With a handful of races remaining in the 2000 season, we found ourselves in Williams Grove toward the end of October racing with the Outlaws before we finished out our USAC season the following week in California.
Here’s what you have to remember. You can’t expect a group of guys like us to just go out and ride around when we weren’t racing USAC because that wasn’t us.
All four of us were running in the top five in all three USAC divisions so racing was what made us. We lived for each race and to just go out there and hang back wasn’t us.
Ryder had been running up high on the cushion all night and at tracks like Williams Grove, that meant trouble.
“You better watch that,” Jimi told Ryder after his heat race. “That wall bites.”
Ryder just laughed and went about his way.
Half way through the feature Justin and I were up front battling with my dad when we saw the lights flash yellow and then immediately red. This usually meant someone crashed badly or something was wrong with the track.
They stopped us coming out of turn three. When you’re inside those cars cramped in small quarters, it seemed like hours waiting but when they landed a helicopter in the infield, I knew it was serious.
I had no idea who was injured or how badly. The outlaws don’t have radios so we couldn’t ask.
Sometime after about forty-five minutes, they had us make pace laps and then I saw the car being hauled away. It was the number two of Ryder Christensen. I groaned to myself knowing he was badly injured. I hated to see him get hurt but as I said, none of us did things half-assed.
That night at Williams Grove, the wall bit back hard and Ryder saw that.
From the time I was old enough to know better, I knew the dangers of racing. I was also too caught up in racing to be scared when I was inside the car. I’d seen first-hand the gnarly wrecks my dad endured and I’d had my fair share over the years as well but that night in Williams Grove scared me.
I knew Ryder well from our times racing in the quarter midgets together and now with racing USAC and seeing him airlifted away was not something I took lightly. I wasn’t naïve, I knew we could get killed doing this and I’d seen it before and I was sure I’d see it again.
Spencer, Justin and I drove up to the hospital in Pittsburg that night to check on Ryder while everyone else went back to Mooresville. They had him listed in critical condition but they said he’d be all right. Broken ribs, concussion, broken arm, broken leg, broken pelvis and broken back was bound to keep him out of racing for a while.
Dad and Bucky met us at the hospital as well to check on him and for the first time, I talked to my dad about the dangers of racing. It’s not that I didn’t know how badly we could get hurt but between racers, it’s not something you talked about, it just wasn’t.
I think that night shook Jimi a little as well because Ryder and I were around the same age.
He saw me walking down the hall with Justin and reached for me, pulling me into a hug. I didn’t pull away, I just stood there, part of me shocked that he was hugging me but also relieved that he was all right. That could have been him and that could have been me. I
t could have be any of us.
“How’s Ryder?” he finally asked pulling away.
“Pretty banged up but he’s stable. His dad is back there with him now.”
“Who’d he wreck with?”
Bucky cleared his throat beside us. “He and Tyler were in a close battle for fifth and Ryder came around the outside just as Tyler’s left rear tire blew.”
I shook my head remembering my crash just a month earlier when I destroyed the catch fence and myself doing that same thing. All of us loved the high side but it’s dangerous up there at times. It’s fast and sometimes too fast for conditions but in Ryder’s case, it was just bad timing. It wasn’t his fault and it wasn’t Tyler’s. It was the dangers of racing.
Dad and I flew back to Mooresville that night. They had bought a house there to make things easier on traveling and being able to sleep in our own beds at times. It was a nice change from sleeping in hotels and along the highway.
“Are you okay?” Dad asked when we drove from the airport to the house. I was in the middle of sending Sway a text to let her know I was on my way back to the Mooresville and was relieved to know she was there too.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I slipped my phone inside my jacket. “I feel bad for Ryder...and Tyler.” Tyler felt horrible afterward and left without saying anything to anyone. When dad and I left the hospital, Tyler was still sitting outside the ICU waiting for Ryder to come around.
“I know,” he agreed shaking his head. “I hate to see that sort of thing but when you race as long as I have...it happens...too often. I haven’t seen a wreck like that since O’Neil’s kid.”
We didn’t say much else after that, just rode in comfortable silence.
When we got home, it was around three in the morning but I wanted to see Sway. She was in the guest room so I snuck inside there. To my surprise, she was awake, pacing the room.
“Are you all right?” I whispered watching her pace. She was only dressed in one of my t-shirts and panties.
I prayed she was wearing a bra and then I silently hoped she wasn’t. God, I was so fucked.
I almost turned around and left but she didn’t let me before she was in my arms, hugging me tightly.
“I’m so glad you’re okay.” She wailed.
“Sway...shhh honey.” I stroked her head as she cried. “You knew I didn’t wreck.”
“I know but I was...worried.” She sniffled into my neck. I could feel her ragged heartbeat against my chest, her tears wetting my neck. “Seeing that helicopter...the crash...”
I held onto her tightly, trying to comfort her in any way I could. I moved to sit down on the bed in the guest room and she straddled my lap. That position did nothing for my self-control.
My breathing hitched, as did hers and I may have even groaned. One second she was crying and the next we were moving away from each other.
“Sorry,” I muttered pushing myself off the bed.
Sway’s legs fell from my waist and she let go, sitting back on the bed and then curling her legs up.
“It’s okay. I forgot I wasn’t wearing any pants.” She glanced around the room, found her sweatpants and thankfully pulled them back on.
“Thanks,” I whispered before sitting back down on the bed beside her.
She looked at me for a long moment before chewing on her bottom lip. “Do you...um...okay I’m going to be a total girl right now.” She sighed in defeat. “Can you um...hold me?”
I had to laugh at her expression, so I did, and then she punched me in the shoulder. “Christ...if you want me to hold you...don’t physically hurt me.”
“I’m sorry, get over here.” She patted the bed.
“One condition,”
“What would that be?” she rolled her eyes.
“One, you keep those goddamn sweatpants on and two,” I paused and laid down next to her. My hand came up and touched her cheek softly before leaning in. “You let me kiss you.”
She never answered, just leaned in and pressed her lips softly to mine. I just wanted to remember the feeling, see if the same electric all-consuming feeling shot through me when our lips touched.
It did. The kissing only lasted a minute, maybe less before I pulled away and tucked her head gently against my chest. I don’t why I tested myself so much with her. I didn’t want to but as soon as I was around her lately, all I wanted to do was be closer, kiss her more and never be away from her. That scared the shit out of me.
Over the years, I’ve met my fair share of cocky drivers, myself included. You needed a certain amount of confidence to go out and do what we do but there was a fine line to walk there. Too much one direction and it’s never good.
I’m not saying I was a saint, because really, there were times where I didn’t like myself, but I like to think I would never purposely wreck someone...unless they asked for it.
While running the last night of the World Finals for the World of Outlaw series at the Dirt Track at Charlotte in Concord North Carolina, I ran into a driver I’d heard a lot about these days, Darrin Torres.
He just started in the NASCAR cup series this last year. He thought he was hot shit whereas I had my own theories having seen him race before. Most of the cup drivers who started out in open wheel racing reverted to it in the off-season or on Saturday nights when they weren’t racing so I wasn’t surprised to see him there.
Dad was there since he was an outlaw driver but what caught me off guard was the conversation before my heat race.
“Listen Jameson, be careful out there.” The intensity in his voice was enough to make me look up from strapping on my belts. Everyone was still a little shook up with what happened to Ryder, so I wasn’t all that surprised but we’d talked about this already. I knew the dangers but I didn’t suspect this had anything to do with Darrin.
“Darrin isn’t someone you can trust out there. Hold your line but if he pushes, back off.”
I scowled. I never gave my line up. Why would he even suggest that? He wouldn’t lift if it were him.
“It’s just not worth it.” He muttered tucking his helmet under his arm. “I’ve seen too many guys wrecked by him.
I nodded and slid down into the narrow cockpit when he walked away. There wasn’t much I could say.
Sway and Emma came by with Lane prior to the race and said hello. I got a baby high-five from Lane. He was seven months old now and got more adorable every day. Sway hugged me and gave me a kiss on the cheek for good luck and Emma kicked me in the shin.
In the feature, Darrin and I lined up in row four, beside each other, with me on the outside.
Dad was right about Darrin. He was reckless on the track but I was faster, stronger and outsmarted him, taking every line he chose and pushed him up the track. I knew my abilities on tracks like Charlotte. He wasn’t even in the same league as me and judging by his movements inside the car, he wasn’t adjusting well to the difference in handling from the cup cars.
He was on my ass mercilessly though but I was satisfied to note that he was using his tires up just trying to catch me.
I ended up taking second. My car was no match for Justin’s and Darrin came in seventh. After the race during the cool down lap, he shot around and clipped my rear tire.
I think I’ve said this before but what happens when you clip the rear tires on these beasts? That’s right; you’re flipping quicker than you can blink.
It was a cheap-ass hit. It was deliberate and I lost my temper.
I jumped down off the wrecker tossing my helmet and gloves in the same motion once we were back in the pits. Rage roared through me. Fuck being calm and reasonable.
“What the fuck was that?” I snarled at him.
I didn’t give him a chance to answer. No way was I letting him get away with that shit. I struggled furiously against the hands and arms of crewmembers and officials fighting to separate us.
I was too caught up in my rage to listen to the officials that had a hold of me as I fought to get at him again. I lunged against
the restraining hands, wiping the sweat from my eyes, and suddenly I realized it wasn’t sweat but blood coming from my eye.
I growled doubling my efforts to get at him when my dad yelled. “Jameson! That’s enough!”
Getting light headed, I realized it was enough when the officials pulled Darrin away from me; either that or we were going to kill each other out here.
Stomping my way toward my pit I realized the blood was now pouring out. I had no idea he even got in a hit to do that damage but I was hardly paying attention.
Head wounds bleed like a bitch and I had enough sense to know this one needed stitches. I stormed back to the hauler with Tommy, Sway and Spencer following. Everyone that knows me, knows my temper is legendary and I proved it that night. It took me a good four hours and six stitches above my eye to calm down.
It was all over the papers the next morning that Jimi Riley’s son tried to teach the NASCAR Winston Cup series Rookie of the Year a thing or two about retaliation. I’d like to say that was our last run in with each other but it wasn’t. Far from that.
That night was the end of the racing season and once again, I was thankful. Not only for a break but my head was pounding and I had a feeling it would be for a while. I’d taken some hits this season. I was becoming used to double vision these days and after a while, it seemed normal.
I was heading to Turkey Night in a few weeks but this also left a little time for a vacation and then for the first time in my racing career, I was finally racing in the Chili Bowl in January. Schedules lined up with an open seat in Bucky’s midget car. I couldn’t wait.
Ryder was still in the hospital in Pittsburg so before flying home to Elma I decided to make a detour to see him. Justin came along with me and we spent most of the night there recapping the last few races for him. He was doing better, still not up and walking around but the doctors assured him eventually he’d be able to get back into a race car if he wanted. He was young, just a year younger than I was, so it meant he’d heal faster.