“Oh shit,” I said.
“What the hell was that?” Ben asked. He was watching telemetry for Chaz. The wreck was a long way away from us, but it was so loud, it felt like we were standing right next to it.
I jumped off the pit box and ran to my truck, Ayrton followed. We arrived as quickly as we could. There was nothing left of the car. It was a massacre. I looked at the wall. Bryan hit it so hard, he split the solid concrete wall in two. My heart rate was through the roof. The emergency crew called for air support and extra backup. The car wasn't on fire, but the entire first turn was littered with smoldering debris. I looked toward the infield, Mary-Margaret was standing there with her hands over her mouth in shock. She had heard the wreck happen as she was driving into the track.
Ayrton looked lost. The way he was looking at the car, I could see what was going on in his head. He was blaming himself. He and I took a quick look at the interior of the car after Bryan was removed. Blood. Lots of blood. Something had to have punctured his fire suit for that to happen. It was like a murder scene, blood was spattered everywhere.
Ayrton and I packed into the truck and rushed to the hospital. I didn't know where Mary-Margaret was, I knew she'd be directed to the hospital soon enough. I was hoping she would forgive me for not looking for her. I was terrified for my friend. Bryan trusted his life with us, he believed in a better future with us. And not long after arriving at the hospital, we learned that he died because of it. Bryan Gatsberg was pronounced dead en route to the hospital.
I walked out of the ER and into the waiting area where Mary-Margaret was. She ran up and threw her arms around me. I held her as tightly as I could. Dale's death hit the whole team very hard. But this – This was our team. At the time, I didn't know how we could ever recover from it. I guess it's what anyone would think in that situation, right? How can we come back from this? How could I get back in that car in just a week and a half and drive around until my number is called? It's not fair to Mary-Margaret.
So many heartbreaks so quickly. No driver ever wants to see a peer die, no matter how hated a rival he is or how little he is known. Nobody wants to see a young man buried in a car. They say life doesn't give you more than you can handle. I was starting to question that.
Ayrton and I had to get back to the track to clean our stuff up. The cars and equipment were gone, but our personal stuff was waiting for us. The dark clouds had settled over the track. They literally descended on the track, they were so low. Ayrton was staring at them. I'd never seen him this unhappy.
“Do you believe in justice?” Ayrton asked me.
“What do you mean?”
“It was my fault.”
“Stop talking like that. This was a freak accident,” I told him.
“That car broke because of my work. I should have done better for Bryan. For all of you. You guys have no reason to ever trust in me ever again.”
I never thought I'd live to see the day. Ayrton was broken. Ayrton was defeated. Never in a million years would I blame what happened on him. I knew why he was blaming himself, though. He always took responsibility for his cars. Every car that came out of our shop was his. He expected perfection from himself, and he expected perfection from his product. He and I were always alike in that respect. We both expected perfection and pushed for it every second of every day. That style of life is extremely difficult to deal with. Eventually, something will let you down. Something will go wrong. And if you're an elitist like us, the first place you point your finger is at yourself. It's a rough way to live. But for us, it's the only way to live.
We got back to the hotel, Ayrton locked himself in his room and didn't come out. Mary-Margaret and I retired to our bedroom early. The next morning, we were set to fly out of Pocono and head to Bristol for more testing.
“What's the plan for tomorrow?” Mary-Margaret asked. I knew what she wanted. She wanted me to stop racing. She wanted me to retire, right there. She wanted me to tell her that she and I would return to California and I would figure out what the next chapter of my life would be.
That wasn't an option. Racing was in my blood. I couldn't get rid of it. One thing I believe she really underestimated was how it all weighed on me. The thought of what Bryan would’ve said if I quit. He would be pissed. He would support the decision, no doubt, but he would be disappointed in me if I walked away because of his wreck. Still, it would be one of the hardest things I'd ever do. I have to get back in that car knowing that I hadn't been in it since one of my own died.
“We're heading down to Bristol, remember? Chaz and Greg have more testing to do,” I responded after a moment.
“Ryan, you can't be serious. One of your best friends just died!”
“You're exactly right. That's why we've got to continue. We have to test for him. His car can't sit there and not be used.”
“It isn't about the racing! It's about your life! It's about keeping that heart in your chest that I love so much going! I don't know what I would do myself if you ever died,” Mary-Margaret exclaimed.
“My love, I am always coming back to you,” I responded. She never replied. I thought she believed me. I hoped she believed me.
Things only got uglier for Ayrton from there. He never showed up in Bristol. I had no idea where he was that day or the rest of the days that week. Life got dark very quickly for him. He started drinking heavily, locking himself away in his cave in the Beach House. I'd never seen him like this. He always put a bunch of pressure on himself. He always expected unobtainable perfection. But this time, he was doing himself in. He was giving up. It seemed as though he was on the verge of complete mental collapse. He was so much stronger than he showed in this, the worst time in his life.
Going out and getting hammered for a couple days after a severe experience like Ayrton had, being the mechanic who set up the car that Bryan died in, is okay. What isn't okay was when that person continues to drink more and more to the point that it starts eroding away at his life. And that's where Ayrton ended up.
“Hey man. Hitting it kinda hard?” I asked Ayrton when I found him at the bar.
“Everybody has their 'fuck it' drink. But once in a while, you need a night where every drink is a 'fuck it' drink. That's where I'm at.”
“It's one in the afternoon. Ayrton, you just missed an entire race weekend. You need help.”
“I just need a few more days. A few more,” Ayrton slurred.
“I've given you three months. Have you been sober at all in that time?” I asked him.
He shrugged. “I'm sure at some point around 4AM I was sober. Not sure what day.”
“Where's Seratti?”
“I dumped that bitch. She was bringing a brother down.”
I knew Ayrton was in a bad place, but I didn't realize it was quite this bad. He had no concept of life. None. No understanding that he was hurting himself and damaging his reputation, not to mention he was ruining his relationships with his friends.
“Ayrton, you gotta stop this,” I said. Ayrton slammed his drink down on the counter and stormed out of the bar. I had Chase waiting outside just in case this happened. I guess you could say this was our attempt at an intervention.
I followed Ayrton out and Chase stopped him. Ayrton drunkenly fought him off, and it was at that point that Chase and I became focused on keeping Ayrton from stumbling into the street.
“Ayrton, come on man. It doesn't have to be like this,” Chase told him.
“You will understand, you cannot beat me, you will never defeat me. And I shall spend my every last day on this obscene planet mortifying you in your sleep if you don't leave me alone. I am not here for your entertainment and I shall not be made a fool of. Breathe your hate into me and I shall show you what true terror is like. Come now, I dare you. Feed the beast!” Ayrton yelled at us.
Chase and I were stunned into silence. Who were we talking to? Who was in Ayrton's body? I'd never heard him talk like that. He was so beyond smashed it was ridiculous. Ayrton slipped by us i
n our stunned state and he walked into traffic. The perils of true life struck again. Chase grabbed for him but was too late. A car moving about twenty miles an hour hit Ayrton. He did a ton of damage to the car, but he was lucky. The car didn't kill him.
Chase and I followed the ambulance to the hospital. We knew it wasn't going to be life threatening so we weren't too worried. Still, it was a silent trip. We both wanted to get the old Ayrton back. He was going downhill and fast. Maybe getting hit by a car was the best thing that could have happened to him.
We showed up at the hospital and someone beat us to his room. Seratti was in there talking to him. Chase and I stayed outside the room, but we could hear the entire conversation.
“I’ve kept my heart closed for so many years, just knowing that I could guard it for my entire life. Well, you disproved that theory. I now know that I can’t guard my heart from true love. True love is a stubborn, stabbing, sinister little twit that just tugs and tugs until there isn’t anything there to tug on anymore. And it's the greatest feeling in the world,” Ayrton told her.
“I believe you, Ayrton, but do you realize what it's like? I mean, I've been standing right next to you and I realized a long time ago, I missed you. And you were right there. But I was never going to get to you. I was never going to have you,” Seratti responded.
“What can I do to keep you around? What can I do to make it up to you?” Ayrton asked.
Seratti paused a moment before responding. “I want all of you. The good, the bad. The beautiful, the ugly. Everything. It's not going to be easy, I know that. There's going to be a lot of arguments, a lot of fights, a lot of learning to do. But there will also be a lot of great times. I will do everything I can to make you proud to be with me, but I will not stand for missing you while you're right next to me. I've put up with so much already and I'm not ever going to be okay with that.”
“Want to know what scares me? Love. That dream coming true. It terrifies me. But I need to let you in. I can't do this alone anymore,” Ayrton told her. I was so proud of Ayrton. He finally manned up and let the girl in. I wasn't sure if he could keep it up, but at least for once in his life, he showed vulnerability to somebody.
“Well that's a good sign,” Chase whispered to me.
Seratti came out a few minutes later and we went in. Not much was said. Ayrton was going to be in rehab for the rest of the year. That was the important part. But Chase said the one thing that meant everything.
“You know what they say, man. In prosperity, our friends know us. But in adversity, we know our friends. And where I come from, we take care of our friends.”
- 5 -
The Blood Runs Thin
Four straight championships, we wanted another. Vector Motorsports was known for many things. On track, we were known to be very greedy. And that wasn't an incorrect assumption, honestly. Greed always kept our efforts together on the tarmac. Since I started racing, I always went out of my way to make sure that same greed never carried over to off-the-track life. But in 2002, I started to realize how badly I was failing at that.
On the track, I was so powerful, so strong, so unbeatable. Invincible, even, while still withholding my mortality. It consumed me, the feeling that I could not be beaten, I could not even be challenged. But off the track, I was vulnerable, or at least I should have been. I was defeatable, or at least I should have been. I was humble... Or at least I should have been.
I was a man. Or at least... I should have been.
January 7th, 2002 was one of those days I will always look back on and wonder what the hell I was thinking. The day started out in the most mundane manner. Mary-Margaret got out of bed before me, grabbed her shower. I followed and met her in the kitchen about an hour later.
“Good morning, pretty lady. How are you?” I asked her.
“I'm good. No kiss?” she responded. I had completely forgotten to give her the obligatory kiss on the cheek. Normally, it was something I would never forget. As in, no chance. I couldn't forget something so important to her, and to me. The simple things, that's what I always prided myself on. Remembering the simple things. Not on this morning though. The fact that she demanded a kiss from me set me immediately on edge. Perhaps I awoke on the wrong side of the bed, or perhaps I knew just how badly I was about to screw up.
“When are you leaving for the 500 next month?” Mary-Margaret asked.
“First of the month, why? You wanna get there earlier? Do some promo work with your foundation perhaps?” I asked as I smeared my bagel and avoided all contact with Mary-Margaret. Why was I doing this? Why was I so disconnected from her? I don't know. I couldn't begin to tell you.
“No, unfortunately I'm not going to be there. I signed up to go to a conference in New York to help expand my foundation. My application was accepted and I'm going to head up there on the 29th. I'll be back by February 20th,” she responded.
I was pissed. Beyond pissed actually. “Mary-Margaret, are you kidding me? This is the first 500 since Dale died. I need you there. What the hell made you think it was a good idea to schedule something else during Speedweeks?”
“I don't know, maybe the thought that I have my own life to tend to and it's about time I stop putting my dreams off just to stand at the side of a race track waiting to watch you kill yourself!” This was a side of Mary-Margaret I rarely saw. She was angry, like really angry. She went into this knowing it was going to be an argument. I think in many ways, she planned this. She planned to make this an argument. This was her stand to make sure I was being fair to her, and I completely let her down. She wanted me to support her. Instead I ruined her.
“How can you be so selfish? How can you be so callous and immature? I need you during those weeks! What the hell do you think I'm going to be doing for those two weeks? I'm going to be having nightmares every night about what happened last year!”
“Then why are you going? Why are you putting yourself through that?” she asked.
“It's my job, Mary-Margaret! It's my career!”
“Well, maybe you should put your career on hold for me once in a while! Maybe you should put what you want to the side and support me!” Mary-Margaret was getting aggressive with this one and I was short on patience.
I walked out. I left. I called Ayrton who was in Reece City with Seratti. We went out to lunch as the storms rolled in. The storm was said to be unprecedented for this time of year. A full scale lightning storm with the potential for tornadoes. It was a mean storm, a dark storm.
We watched it inch closer and closer from the diner. We sat there for about three hours before it finally hit. And it was nasty. Hail, rain, and high winds at first. The hail subsided but the wind and torrential rains continued.
“Dude... This storm reminds me of...” Ayrton said without finishing. I looked at him, he looked at me... We were on the same page on this one.
“You got a football?” I asked.
Ayrton and I went out to the local park and threw the pigskin around for hours, just like we had done as teenagers during a similar storm in Ohio. The storm was so dark, it seemed as though the sun was setting around 4PM. It rained, it hailed, lightning was striking everywhere around us. We didn't stop once.
We had been out there for almost five hours. Something was telling me that things had gone down between Seratti and Ayrton. He hadn't been up to his normal tricks on that day, but he was busting balls on the field, which meant one thing -- Inner angst.
I saw Mary-Margaret's Acura drive up next to Betsy. I was lined up at QB, Ayrton was at wide out. I stood there, football held out in go position. I stared at Mary-Margaret as she got out of her car.
“Would you hike the fuckin' ball already?” Ayrton yelled as lightning struck just off the field. He noticed Mary-Margaret walking onto the field at that point. “Okay, I'm out,” he said as he walked off.
Mary-Margaret approached me. “What're you doing out here? You could be killed.”
“I'm sorry, Mary. I don't know what I was thinking this m
orning,” I replied.
“No, you were right. I don't know what I was thinking. Those weeks are going to be tough and I need to be there for you. But Ryan, you're not invincible. You can't be out here putting your life on the line for nothing like this. Do you know what it would do to me if you were hurt?”
I nodded. She was right. It was very reckless of me to be out there in such a storm. When I was single and Ayrton and I did this kinda stuff all the time, it wasn't a big deal. I didn't have anyone counting on me. I was never going to be a safe person, it just wasn't my personality. But I needed to use discretion if only to appease Mary-Margaret's conscience.
Hail had left welts all over my body. My hair was coated in blood from several large pieces of hail hitting my skull. Mary-Margaret drove me home in her car, I hadn't even realized that Seratti was in Mary-Margaret's Acura when she drove up. Ayrton drove Seratti home in my truck.
When we got home, Mary-Margaret led me to the bathroom and turned on the shower. She took my shirt off and her expression dropped. She saw all the welts on my chest. One by one she ran her fingers gently over my bumps and bruises. She knelt down and kissed a welt that was right at my hip. She took my athletic pants off and examined the marks all over my legs. She kissed one on my thigh. This situation was turning oddly erotic quite quickly. We got in the shower and she shoved me up against the wall. I always knew why she got aggressive with me... It was her way of showing that she wanted me to get aggressive with her. So I turned her around and threw her up against the shower wall. It wasn't the first time that we made love in the shower, but it was definitely the most intensely sexy time that we did.
The Legend: The Love of Ryan Sumpter Page 6