by Shey Stahl
I nodded quickly as I was getting a little choked up now.
Her eyes moved to Axel who let out a loud laugh as him Casten and Lane danced around. “Those three kids right there held a very special place with him as well. He loved all his kids and grandkids but I knew just as well you have different bonds with each one. Lane, Axel and Casten were always close to my dad, more so than the others.
“He was so proud of you Jameson.” She said as a tear slipped down her cheek. “I don’t know that you will ever understand the pure joy he got knowing that everything you set out to do with racing you did.”
“I knew. I always knew.”
Eventually the party around us was in full swing and our intimate conversations were drowned out by the rowdy bunch dancing around us.
I was not happy with my brother and Aiden when they made the band play the AC/DC song You shock me all night long while my daughter danced with her new husband. I conveniently found that time perfect to get some fresh air.
When I made my way back inside, they were now playing a song that had me pulling my wife into a slow dance, whispering the lyrics slowly to her.
“If I didn’t know any better...I’d say my dirty heathen is looking for some.” She said against the skin below my ear as she kissed along my jaw.
“Honey...” my voice was purposely low for the sake of sealing the deal. “I’m looking for more than some.”
She giggled. That same infectious giggle that made everything centered. My hands slipped lower but she caught them. “All right Mr. Riley...it’s time you take Mrs. Riley home.”
As we were leaving, Casten was on his way to four sheets to the wind when I grabbed him by the collar. “That was nice of you back there for your sister.” He smiled, his eyes glazed over from the alcohol. “No driving.”
Some think that it was wrong that our sixteen-year old son was drinking but it wasn’t like he was being irresponsible about it. Casten knew his limits and never drove.
His date, who was not drunk, pulled out her keys. “He’s not...I am.”
“Good.”
“I can drive just fine honey.” He told his date throwing his arms around her laughing.
“Make sure he gets home okay, please.” I told her. “And you,” I slapped his shoulder, “show some respect for this girl. Stop molesting her on the dance floor.”
He grinned and winked at me. “Oh don’t act so innocent. I saw you with your hands all over mom.”
Sway laughed and started pulling me away. You never won a conversation with Casten, it was impossible. The kid always thought of a way to spin it.
On the way back to the hotel, Sway smiled at me, the headlights of passing vehicles shined on her porcelain skin. I couldn’t keep my hands off her.
“Do you ever feel guilty knowing how much sadness is all over the place to be happy now?” she asked.
“No. I don’t honey.” Giving her hand a squeeze, I brought her fingers to my lips to kiss them. “I don’t because of how much sadness we’ve experienced firsthand. I’ve lived that way for years, felt regret, wished away any hope but not now. This is the race I was meant to have. Every pit stop, every caution flag, every lap led was for a reason and I know that.”
“That’s a Jimi answer if I ever heard one.” Sway laughed.
She was right. That was exactly what my dad would say.
There’s always a time, a race, a lap, a penalty, or a victory that you’re going to remember more than the next. It’s etched inside of you and the breath you need. It speaks to you and reminds you that you have what you did to a sport that consumed your life.
You remember everything about that moment and can account for even the smallest details when asked about it. You remember how you felt, noises, smells, feelings, and reactions. It’s programmed into you.
I didn’t want to feel sadness anymore. I wasn’t over my dad nor would I ever be over losing my biggest fan to a battle he never should have had to fight. The thing was, life changes, rearranges, and you’re left with a choice. Remember that there’s a time, a race, a lap, a penalty or a victory that you’re going to remember more. There’s nothing wrong with that either.
32. Spark Plug – Jameson
Spark Plug – A device inserted in the head of an internal combustion engine cylinder that ignites fuel mixture by means of an electric spark.
Since I retired, a lot had changed in our lives. Aiden and Spencer had retired too and our mission in retirement seemed to be one upping each other. Currently I was in the lead.
Easton, having just married my little girl, was doing an amazing job racing my car and living up to the big footsteps he had to fill in the number nine car with Kyle there to guide him. Kyle claimed he wanted to see that kid get a championship before he retired. After watching him race at Bristol and Texas, it was only a matter of time before it happened.
Arie traveled with him now along with Lexi who was together with Brody Williams. Yeah, Spencer wasn’t happy about that one but there wasn’t much he could do. She was eighteen.
From what I gathered, Arie was enjoying herself and found the lifestyle interesting. I wasn’t sure how long that would last as Easton still had a heavy involvement with sprints cars like I did. Part of me hoped that he would come race again so we could spend more time with them.
Axel was well onto his second championship in the World of Outlaws. Justin, Tyler, Rager and Cody were all heavy competition for him this year but Justin swore it was his last season. He was doing an amazing job at handling the success and having a family. He did a lot better than I did at his age.
Van and Clint weren’t needed as much so Van moved back to Washington to run Grays Harbor with Andrea and be around his daughter more. That was a good thing. Clint stayed around and kept us all in order. We needed it from time to time.
Tate took over most of the Cup team and merged it with his but kept the Riley Racing name in honor of Jimi.
I merged my sprint car team with dads and ran them all under JAR Racing. It was so much easier that way and for tax purposes, was ideal.
Alley was able to relax too. She no longer had to keep me in check at the track so she finally got a chance to be with her family as did Emma. Both were still active participants in our fan clubs, publicity, and charity events but it was a lot more relaxed these days. They spent most of their time traveling around with us just like our summers together. The only problem I had with all of us traveling now was the pranks that didn’t swing in my favor and Rosa. She was still with us. We did manage to get her to cook though. It was a fucking miracle.
Casten, our only child still at home, managed to graduate his sophomore year at sixteen and then started working full time for my sprint car team and CST Engines. Some thought it was strange but aside being full of wit and charm, Casten was extremely smart. We always knew he was intelligent when he was younger but never thought much of it when he decided he didn’t want to be potty trained until he was damn near four-years-old.
Though it was incredibly hectic at times, Casten, Noah and Charlie made a good team with CST Engines.
Lane ended up coming to work for us too and worked primarily with Rager’s team as his crew chief. Willie moved over to be Tyler’s crew chief when Justin decided to retire and Tommy stayed with Axel. Cole, the delinquent, when he wasn’t in trouble, he did most of the web designs, videos and social media for JAR Racing which I appreciated because I knew nothing about it.
We were doing well that year and back to traveling with the sprint car team. Being back around all the tracks that I grew up racing at was like reliving our summers together. Only difference, I could finally show my wife just how much I wanted her in the back of my hauler or the bed of my truck. I didn’t have to think about how this would change our lives or interfere with the Triple Crown. I was retired and racing the way I wanted to race, for fun.
And my mom, well she went with us and we wouldn’t have had it any other way. It was the perfect setup for all of us. I missed Arie
and wished she was there too but she had a good thing going with Easton and with me still partial owner of Riley Racing, I still saw her a couple times a month if not more.
Some probably want to know when that first win came for me now that I was back to racing sprint cars. The first win came at a track I knew well in Banks Oregon called Sunset Speedway.
I loved Sunset Speedway almost as much as I loved racing at Grays Harbor.
Spencer always missed the turn to Sunset Speedway. Every single time, he missed the exit and every single time, we turned around and he would say, “Damn, I thought it was down further.”
With thick red clay and grandstands inches from the front stretch, it had some of the most exciting racing on the West coast. On the front stretch there’s a rut right under the flag stand. As soon as you came out of four and got back on the gas, you went straight into that trench.
Walking the track prior to the main that night, I remember so much about that track and our summers here. I remember the time I blew the engine in my late model outlaw and Sway convinced some guy to give me his engine so I could run the main. I remembered watching my dad break the track record here countless times and following him around as a kid wondering if I would ever be as good as he was.
After walking the entire track, I made my way to the pits to see that Sway was doing the very same thing, staring at the truck.
Sway loved Sunset because you can get within feet of the cars on the front stretch if you were brave enough. You can see straight in the cars, watch the drivers movements of their aggressive driving styles and the pop of the throttle, sheet metal vibrating and all the thick sounds of racing you don’t usually hear ten rows back.
When I got back to the hauler, they sounded the horn for the drivers to return to their cars and line up. All the usual outlaw guys were there tonight including my son.
At times, it was still hard racing with him. Mostly from fear but it was easy to get over when I realized how much it meant to him having me with him.
Before that race at Sunset, he came up to me as I was getting my suit on and making sure I had plenty of tear offs on my visor and wished me luck. He was hard to beat these days so I knew it wasn’t going to be easy but I also knew I had this track and setup figured out tonight. After all, I broke the track record tonight, which was still held by my dad, until now.
Tonight, you could feel the excitement in the air and it was impossible not to feel the energy around us. I knew tonight might be the night I pull off a win. It wasn’t like me to not get a win already but then again I had only raced in a handful of races so far this year.
There was about a ten minute delay when a couple cars got caught up in a wreck that drew the red flag in the B-Main so I pulled Sway inside the hauler when I heard a familiar song from our past.
When Alabama’s Dancin’ Shaggin’ on the Boulevard came on, I reached for her hands and spun her around, one hand on her hip, the other holding her hand. Whispering the lyrics, I get in tune with the song and even pegged the higher lyrics.
The team around me laughed as I serenaded my wife loud enough for the entire pits to hear. Some took pictures, others taped it and Willie sang with me.
Sway giggled almost the entire time and then looked up at me, her hands in my hair. “I’m gonna tell you the same thing I said the last time we danced to this song at this same track...” she paused leaning in to whisper in my ear. “Win for me.”
I smiled. “Will do honey.”
Spark Plug – Sway
I absolutely loved the feeling that washed over me when I sat in the stands of a local dirt tracks and Jameson came rumbling onto the track. It was different from any NASCAR race. This, with the dirt spraying up and the thick lingering methanol was us.
Tommy and Willie took a seat next to me along with Casten and Lily, Jack sitting securely on Spencer’s shoulder’s as Jameson tested the grip up high drifting up there in the pace laps and blipping the throttle. The action sent his rear tires into a spinning drift.
Arie, who we hadn’t seen in weeks, showed up as they did pace laps with Easton, Kyle, and Tate close behind her. She’d brought the Cup team out to watch her daddy.
I nearly cried.
We immediately hugged and the guys started making small talk. These days Arie was traveling with Easton and living the lifestyle that Jameson and I had for so many years. Most of the team aside from Spencer and Aiden was the same so I knew they had a good thing going there.
Knowing my daughter and her personality, I had a feeling that she didn’t care for the lifestyle but she did care for Easton and that’s all that mattered. Like me, she wasn’t a jealous person either, which was also important.
Easton wasn’t sitting in front of us two minutes and he already had kids and women surrounding him, all looking for the same thing they wanted from Jameson for all those years. A piece.
Arie watched the crowd carefully but her eyes were on her dad’s sprint car as they lined up side-by-side. “I really miss this.” She said bumping my shoulder. “I miss you guys.”
I wrapped my arms around her kissing her hair. “We miss you too sweetie.”
My heart still leaped anytime I saw that four wide salute. In honor of Jimi they modified this to a three wide, and the butterflies still danced when I saw him drift up the track and pass cars on the high side.
Just a few laps into the race, you could see the guys moving the wings back searching for traction. I don’t care how good of a driver you are. Setting these cars up is hard and a guessing game because the track is always changing. What may have worked the last time you were here won’t tonight. What worked in the heat races suddenly doesn’t in the main. You’re fighting wheel spin pushin’ the wing back and battling for everything you’re worth just to hang onto fifth.
Taking a place near the fence, I could feel the dirt pelt my face every time he flew by me. I watched his hands in the car, smooth movements and the pop when he let off the throttle halfway down the front stretched. Then he blipped the throttle just once to drift into the corner and back on it until he reached three and four. He had the lines figured out and was working on second place with three laps to go when they called a caution.
I thought for sure he wouldn’t be able to pull it off since Tyler Sprague, one of his drivers with JAR Racing, was getting a good jump off the line every time.
When they threw the green flag, Tyler got that same good jump on him but lagged on the backstretch for some reason. Jameson caught him and threw the car hard into one and two the following lap and then crossed over to take the lead from him.
Next flag was the checkered and my voice was gone. I’d never screamed so loud for him to win in all my life.
Jameson brought the car to just below the flag stand and got out to do the wing dance. It was also the first wing dance I had seen since his win in Williams Groove three years ago.
I lived for those wing dances. The wing dance had always been my favorite. I have this photograph at our house that has Jameson standing on rear wheels of his sprint car, beating his hands on the wing, at seventeen and Axel at that same age, same track, doing that very same thing.
After they got my energetic husband down off the wing, I went down onto the track to celebrate with him and Axel who had pulled his car alongside of him.
“I’ll be honest here,” Jameson laughed when the announcer pushed the microphone in his face after asking how he felt winning again. Running his hand through his hair and then across the back of his sweaty neck, his smile was breathtaking. “I wasn’t sure I could win again and to do it at a track that I grew up racing on, it is exactly what I needed.”
It was the happiest I had seen him after a race in long time.
Turning to me, he patted the back of the car on the roll cage. “Wanna ride?”
“You know I do.” Climbing up there, I rode on the back of his sprint car back to the pits.
Best win ever.
When he brought the car around to the pits, Jameson
was all grins again when he heard the song his dad played for him after his last Knoxville Nationals win, Chelsea Dagger.
Axel and Lane stood by the stereo and turned it up dancing around.
It was just like our summer only now we had a little bit bigger celebrations.
I know what all of you want to know. When was the first pit fight with Rowdy Riley and who got that left handed pop from the southpaw first?
The night he got his first win and it was from a driver he knew pretty well having raced against him when he was younger. Parker Dunn. Jameson’s feelings still hadn’t improved on Parker and Parker was the same trash talker he was when he was eighteen. You’d think being damn near fifty he would have mellowed out but no, he didn’t.
The fight didn’t even start over racing. Naturally, the same as it was back when we were kids, was because of me.
Parker made some smart ass comment about my ass when he walked by and Jameson wasn’t letting him get away with it. He shoved him, Parker shoved him back and then before I knew it, swings were being thrown.
Parker didn’t talk much crap after that. Or maybe it was the broken jaw that seemed to mute his obnoxious ass? Either way, I was okay with that and celebrating my husband’s win with him.
Drivers and crews stood in a line all clapping as we coasted past to his pit near the gate. It felt good to see him being accepted by a crowd that thought he came out here to show off. That wasn’t what it was about at all.
Some thought Jameson had lost his spark but looking at him now, face flushed from the heat of the night, sweat covering the majority of his body, his green eyes dark with anger, he hadn’t lost that spark. He hadn’t lost himself one but. If anything, he found himself here.
When he spotted that Arie and the rest of the Cup team had come out, he smiled grew wider. For two hours he stood there talking with them, fans, other drivers, anybody who wanted a piece of him got it. After three hours, I wanted a little piece two when his racing suit was tied around his waist and the heat of the night got to me. It wasn’t helping that his muscles were calling to me in ways only he knew.