Black Flag (Racing on the Edge)

by Stahl, Shey

  I quickly sent her one last text before tucking my phone away.

  I will. Wait up for me tonight.

  Watching driver’s wives and girlfriends wish them luck was hard because Sway wasn’t there to do the same. But the reason she couldn’t—just fueled the fire inside me to win.

  All morning everyone had been asking me how I felt coming into this race, how I was feeling. Though I’d given them the standard answer of great, was I great? No I wasn’t.

  Was I nervous? You have no fucking idea.

  Talk about pressure.

  But with everything that’s happened, I deserved this. My team deserved this—my family deserved this. After all the shit that’s happened, all the shit I’ve put them through...they deserved less shit for once and a championship.

  Even the biggest races of your career can play out the same way. You’re stopped a few dozen times for cautions, debris, wrecks, rain, but for the drivers and their crews who have worked so hard just to get to that last race, it never stopped. It was a constant race, one stop to another, a call to a change and a turn to a finish. For those miles in between the green and checkered are what decided the fate of one team. Forty-two others were left wondering what might have happened by that one more second, the slip on pit road, that brush with the wall or maybe just that 3/10 of an inch separating them from victory. For these racers surrounding me, the teams, the owners, after the checkered, the race to the next is just the beginning of their ten-month battle between the flags that never really ended.

  “Turn your rear tire fans on,” Kyle told me at lap two hundred. “I’m not sure it’s going to help but we gotta try something.”

  This was not going as planned. Just twelve laps into the race, I blew the right rear tire and slammed into the wall. Amazingly enough I managed to keep it on the lead lap but there I sat in ninth place with sixty-seven laps to go.

  “What do the points look like?” Frustration and exhaustion were evident in my harried tone.

  “If the race was to end now,” Kyle’s tone was the same. “you’d win the championship by eighty points.”

  I was relieved and I really didn’t think anyone could catch me but I had a shit car today and it’d be a miracle if it finished in one piece.

  My mind kept going back to the fact that I wouldn’t settle for anything other than the win, I wanted more. More of anything is better, right? Not exactly, but I wanted more out of this goddamn car, that’s for sure.

  “Kyle, listen...” I turned the fans on. “Let’s take four tires on this stop and go down a half round on the wedge. Maybe that will free it up enough that we’re not burning up the tires. I’m tight and I think that’s why.”

  “All right boys,” Kyle announced to the crew. “You heard the man.”

  “Pit road is open this time by.” Aiden told us. “Watch your speed. Keep it at 4300.”

  “This is the last stop of the night guys so make it a good one.” Mason told the crew. “Get both cans in and get that tape off the grill.”

  “Keep coming, three...two...one...wheels straight, foot on the brake bud.”

  After ten seconds I was already pounding on the wheel. “Come on!” I screamed. “Let’s go, let me GO!”

  “Go, go, go!” Kyle finally said as they removed the jack. “Straight out, clear one lane,”

  I gained a spot on pit road, which improved my mood slightly. “Thanks guys, nice pit stop.” Though I sounded irritated, I wasn’t. I was just...nervous? I didn’t get nervous when I raced but today, I think I showed some emotions dictating that said feeling.

  The pit crew was doing a good job tonight but like I said, I wasn’t settling for anything but the win. I knew regardless if I won or not, the chances of me winning the championship were good. But have you ever heard that saying, “You can’t have you cake and eat it too.”

  I think that statement is another crock of shit. Whoever said that, obviously failed at something and made that up to make them feel better about losing.

  “It’s time to step up to the plate.” I told myself as the green flag dropped.

  I wanted to know for myself that those sacrifices that I couldn’t figure out why I was making were worth it.

  My mind drifted back to the days when I first started racing to now and how mechanical it seemed in a sense. When you first start out racing, your mind is constantly scrambling inside that car about how each move will affect you and the outcome of the race. And that’s not to say you still don’t think that way years later but it’s different. With practice, more seat time, your moves and reactions grow surer and going high when you usually wouldn’t almost becomes second nature. It’s almost like muscle memory, your body just reacts and anticipates the signal you’re giving it. All along you’re collecting notes, your mind developing more memory and responses to the situations until you’re faced with something new. You respond, and find the answer you didn’t know was there. An answer you didn’t think you had. A move you didn’t think you would make, you do.

  Numerous circumstances play a part in a race. Pit stops, lapped traffic, caution flags, wrecks, flat tires, as well as strategy. It’s all about how well you play against the circumstances and swing them to your advantage. There was a moment of disequilibrium when those around you are vulnerable and a sudden unexpected fate turns to your advantage. It’s what you do in that moment when you make a difference against the circumstance playing against you. And the move you didn’t think you’d make turns out to be the move you needed.

  By lap two-fifty six, I was running second behind Tate. I thought about what he said to me in Dover.

  “I shouldn’t say that to you, because I know damn well if you can pull yourself together and get that drive, that determination in you back, I don’t stand a chance for a repeat championship.”

  I smiled and nudged him from behind, waving. I raced him fair, but I wasn’t holding back. He put up a good fight like I wanted him too. We bumped and banged for a good ten laps before he finally just went high and let me go with a wave.

  “All clear—go get ‘em!” Aiden told me.

  You couldn’t miss the excitement in his voice, in everyone’s voice. Our team was in its first year in the cup series and to come out here and do what we’ve done...it’s unheard of.

  You honestly never know when your team will find unity together and it may not even happen the first year. Unity between the crew and car chief, crew chief and driver, driver and owner, are all different and unique in their own subtle ways. It’s a rhythm like any other rhythm and one you need to win a championship. It can happen over a meal, at the table full of empty beer bottles, on the team plane or maybe at the track during a race where the right call was made or a quick stop. Some find it and others never do.

  We had found it and once you have a drink of victory like we had, nothing will stop you from playing with fire to quench the thirst of desire. I knew that fire very well by now.

  “White flag next time by.” Kyle said. “Come on bud give me one more good lap like the rest of them! Hit your marks one last time kid, you deserve this. Goddamn you deserve this kid!”

  Did I deserve this?

  Fuck yeah I did.

  That last lap was the longest lap that I’d ever driven in my career. It felt as though I was driving across country.

  It also felt like I had an incredible amount of time to reflect on what this actually meant to me.

  Besides the glaring obvious and Doug Durran in 1950, I was the youngest driver to win the NASCAR Winston Cup Series Championship and the first to win it in his rookie season.

  The excitement and emotion I felt was hard to describe. My entire body shook as I came out of turn three. The roars of my screaming team over the radio, was enough to rupture my eardrums. Yeah, we had unity all right.

  I was a champion.

  “YEAH! You guys are fucking awesome!” I screamed for all I was worth.

  Pounding my fists on the steering wheel, I took the checkered flag for my twe
lfth victory of my rookie season, and my first NASCAR Winston Cup championship.

  My dad was the next on the radio. “Fuck yeah Jameson! You’ve proven it time and time again—but you did it today!” he choked. “I’m so proud of you!”

  Then Kyle was screaming, “I knew you could do it!”

  I once again had so many emotions running through me. Relief, excitement, anxiety...you name it...I was feeling it.

  I did one badass burnout that put all other burnouts to shame in my book. Then, I got out of the car on the start finish line and retrieved the checkered flag from the race official, the same official I’d threatened to shove the black flag up his ass.

  He was still a little upset about that.

  The fans were screaming my name and patting me on the back as I made my way into the stands. This was another one of those moments I couldn’t describe. These people, these fans, they are what make all of this possible. Without them, we wouldn’t have these races. Without them, I wouldn’t be here, living my dream.

  Right here, in this crowd full of intense excitement, I realized my dream came true and I would remember this moment, forever.

  This wasn’t just another victory. This, winning a championship, defines your career as a race car driver. Some spend their entire careers chasing the championship dream and never achieve it. But here I was, twenty-three years old, a champion living my dream.

  The drive down pit road was long, as every driver and their crew stood alongside their pits and congratulated me, one by one. Talk about emotional. It brought me right back to the emotion I felt after winning the USAC Triple Crown, the Chili Bowl Midget Nationals and the Coca-Cola 600.

  I was beginning to understand the way Sway felt when she watched Father of the Bride.

  Once I was in victory lane, my dad was the first to lock me into a hug. “You did it! I...have no words...just...you did it!” he kept repeating as he held me against him.

  “No dad,” I choked. “We did it.” I motioned toward him and the rest of the team. We both smiled.

  Spencer was there as well, patting me on the back.

  Up until this point, I was proud of myself for keeping my composure. But having your legendary World of Outlaw Champion dad, tell you he’s proud of you, made my composure crumble as did his. Fuck being a badass.

  Reporters were in my face. “Jameson...Jimi...how does it feel to win your first championship in your first season?”

  Dad spoke up first. “You know, today, I’m not a car owner. I’m not a fellow driver. I’m just a very proud father.” He choked out pulled me into a hug. “I knew he had it in him.”

  I was glad to know I wasn’t the only one having some troubles controlling the emotions today.

  “So Jameson,” the reporter turned toward me. I was leaning up against the side of my car because really, my legs were shaking so badly I needed the support. My entire body was humming with excitement. “How does it feel for you?”

  How did I feel?

  My gaze took in everything around me. The trophy I said I didn’t want looked pretty fucking good, my team, Bobby’s and Tate’s team huddled around knowing they helped us in many ways, the champagne, the fireworks, the screaming fans, it was all so much more than I envisioned it would be.

  I couldn’t really grasp the meaning behind it, my mind was reeling but eventually I found my words. “I have no idea what the hell to say...I’m just beside myself in all this...it’s unbelievable. I’m so proud of everyone on this race team who supports us. Simplex, we couldn’t have done this without you. My family...we may not have had the best year and though it felt like we were constantly being black-flagged we pulled through this because of them. So thank you. Everyone, thank you so much,” I looked directly at the camera, knowing she was watching. “Sway, honey...I couldn’t have done any of this without you.” I blew her the kiss she requested of me. “I love you.” I winked at the camera.

  “Did you have your doubts you could pull off the victory and the championship today?” The reporter leaned in when the team tossed Kyle around, all thriving in the excitement of victory lane.

  “Fuck yeah I had my doubts!” I laughed, not only had I just cursed on national television but I earned a laugh from everyone standing around me. “I have a family and a team that supports me. They pushed me to follow my dreams. I can’t thank them enough.”

  The crowd roared to life as the reporter held up my arm. “Ladies and gentlemen, your NASCAR Winston Cup Series Champion...Jameson Riley!”

  I really had no idea what to say but as I glanced over at my team celebrating, I thought about everything that went into this season, it was more than just me. The one thing I hoped for most of all from winning this championship was that everyone who stood beside me and helped along the way, like Bucky Miers and Tate, just to name a few. I hope they understood they are part of what I do and always will be.

  When I won a race, it was not just for me, or my dad as the car owner, or even our sponsors. It was for everyone and I hope they felt the same excitement and gratifying feelings we felt with winning this championship. The guys that busted their ass each week just to get this car to the track, they deserved this just as much as I did. They were the ones that should have been holding the trophy right now.

  At the end of the day, when it comes down to it, when the dream is reality, what next?

  I’ll tell you what’s next...you keep dreaming. You keep dreaming because without that what are we? Just a bunch of inert bastards is what we’d be.

  That’s not me, far from it. I wanted everything. With my aggression, my desire, my determination, I didn’t know when to say when.

  I fought, I gave in, I decided fate and I can honestly say with every fiber of my being that I gave it everything I had.

  I wanted the championship, I wanted the girl and I wanted to make her happy right now into happily ever after.

  And that started with a wedding.

  21. SWOL – Jameson

  SWOL – This is an acronym you may hear on the in-car audio, referring to the electronic “Shift without a Lift” device, which allows gearshifts without lifting off the throttle, making the shift faster.

  By the time the boys and me reached the Olympia Airport that night, we were extremely intoxicated.

  We had something to celebrate, you know.

  I actually felt bad for Wes having to put up with us...especially Spencer and Tommy who we picked up in Indiana.

  It still hadn’t really sunk in that I not only won the race, but the championship as well.

  After the race, I had four hours of press interviews to do and a shit load of pictures. I had appearances and interviews scheduled all week long, but Alley agreed to give me one day with Sway. I hadn’t seen her since I left for Texas and that was three long weeks ago.

  It was around four in the morning when we finally made it to Elma and I was stumbling into Sway’s room.

  She was sleeping, turned on her right side with her back to me. I stood there for a few moments, watching her sleep and using the wall to hold myself upright.

  Still fully clothed, minus my shoes, I slipped into bed with her—pulling the comforter over us. Sway was only wearing a pair of white cotton boy shorts, with her Bob Marley tank top she loved. Her perfect ass was enough to send me over the edge when I snuggled against her back. All I wanted in that moment was to just feel her against me.

  Sliding my hands over her swollen belly, it was the perfect end to the day.

  When the sun began to rising over her balcony and peeked inside her room, I gathered her into my arms. She relaxed decadently across my chest and tucked her face into the curve of my neck with a happy sigh. I hadn’t slept much but I did get a few hours.

  Glancing down, I saw a lazy grin spread over her face.

  “What?” I asked with a smile.

  “Congratulations...champion.” She replied softly snuggling closer. I squeezed her tightly and kissed her forehead.

  “Thank you, honey.”


  I watched her eyelashes flutter a few times before closing them. We continued to exist in our perfect bubble—far from everything else. My mind and body were finally relaxed and sedated. And so it was here, in our bubble, that I would remain for as long as time permitted.

  I glanced at her alarm clock on the nightstand beside her bed that read: 5:38 a.m. So the time permitted, meant another two hours before I had to be up for a radio interview.

  Fuck.

  “I missed you.” I whispered against the top of her head, placing another kiss against her soft hair.

  She maneuvered herself in my arms to look up at me, her belly brushed against my stomach and I laughed.

  “You’re really showing now.” I told her with wide excited eyes, reaching down to touch.

  “Asshole,” She muttered turning away from me.

  “Hey...” I turned her face back to look at me. “What’s wrong? I think it’s beautiful...you’re beautiful and incredibly sexy.”

  “I’m huge.” Sway protested and tried to shimmy away from me. “You don’t have to be nice.” Her voice began to crack and I knew the emotions that would follow.

  “Honey, what’s wrong?” I soothed rubbing my hands down her back as she trembled with sobs. “Are you mad your ass jiggles?” I reached down taking a firm grasp, while moaning into her ear to emphasize my point. “And by the way,” I added with a growl. “It’s fucking hot.”

  “Not helping my emotional breakdown.” She spat getting out of bed. “It’s making it worse.”

  “Where are you going?” she threw a pillow toward me.

  “To take my fat ass to the shower,” the door slammed behind her as she stomped down the hall to the bathroom. I heard the bathroom door slam shut and then open again. “Get the hell out of my bathroom!”

  “Sorry!” Spencer yelled.

  I forgot to tell her the boys crashed in the living room.

  Between radio interviews, press, photo shoots, wedding planning, Thanksgiving...my life had turned into a category five cyclone. I couldn’t believe how much press and shit followed winning a championship, it was insane and nothing like winning a track championship or even the USAC Triple Crown. I couldn’t go anywhere these days without someone wanting an autograph or a picture or to tell me how they felt when they saw me win. I was beginning to feel like there wasn’t nearly enough pieces of me to go around. That’s not to say I didn’t appreciate them but I wondered where I was in all of it.