by Shelly Davis
“Well,” I said, “how was that?”
“Not bad. Not bad at all.” I could almost hear the smirk in Julius’s voice. I built speed and moved quickly around the track. The difference between the old and new tires and the heaviness of the completely fueled car was significant. “But that’s just one of the many differences you’ll experience here at Turner Racing. Come-on back in and we’ll talk.”
I sped around the track one more time before I downshifted and slowed to pull down the road and toward where the pit crew and Julius stood waiting. With all the safety equipment disconnected, and the steering wheel removed, I pulled myself out the window and jumped from the car.
“How’d that feel?” Julius asked as I pulled the helmet from my head.
“Great. How did I do?”
“You did well. Axel wanted me to let you know that if you test well in Bristol on Thursday, you’re gonna run the race on Sunday. If all goes well, the job’ll be yours.”
My heart jumped into my throat as nervousness set in. I could almost feel my body tremble. I shouldn’t be worried about this, I’d run enough races that I shouldn’t be afraid, but NASCAR was a different beast. The G-forces and tracks were much different. NASCAR races were much faster requiring more endurance whereas Grand Touring races were typically on road courses with lower speeds. I had the skill I needed, I just wasn’t sure about my stamina.
“Harlan?” Julius said my name in a questioning tone, a look of concern on his handsome face. I must have stayed quiet too long.
“Yes, I’m available. I just wasn’t prepared for this to happen quite this fast.”
“I know,” Julius replied looking sympathetic, “but Axel wants a consistent person in the car and based on what you showed us here today, we think you could be the right person.”
“Am I ready?” I asked, a little nervous. I needed this racing veteran to tell me I was good enough for this. He just watched me do a short run, I knew he would be able to tell if I could handle the switch or not.
“Look, I know it’s different, but you’ll be fine.” He paused for a moment and smiled. “Axel thinks you’re the right driver for this car. He sees somethin’ in your drivin’, and so do I.”
I’ll be fine. I certainly hope so. “I’m ready. I’m going to get out of this fire-suit and head back to the hotel. I have some calls to make.”
Chapter Two
Cade
“Alright fellas, let’s give it another go. Remember the drills we did back in the gym. It’s all about knowin’ your job and bein’ meticulous and exact,” I reminded them. They wanted to be fast, but some of them didn’t understand that fast meant precise, not sloppy. Sloppy meant mistakes which slowed you down and slow got you replaced.
The pit crew perched themselves on the wall, ready to leap into action at the sound of my whistle. The high screech sent the group of men sprinting around the car. Six leapt over the wall and immediately got to work, jacking the car, removing lug nuts, removing and replacing tires, then running around the other side of the car to do it all again. All while one man put one hundred and eighty pounds of gasoline in the tank, and two others stayed on the other side of the wall; one held the water bottle for the driver, and the other held new tires while awaiting the old ones.
It was a perfectly synchronized dance, deliberately executed, and practiced incessantly so that everything was precise. These guys knew they had to be flawless or they would be out of a job by the end of the week. Meticulousness was the only option.
Clicking the stopwatch when the last man stepped back from the car, I scowled at the result. Four tires, fuel, and a wedge adjustment all in a matter of thirteen seconds. It was okay, but it wasn’t nearly as fast as I thought it should be. The average was around twelve seconds for a pit stop, I wanted them to be faster. One guy was holding them back.
“Thirteen seconds, fellas. That’s not good enough. We need more practice. Gotta shave at least a second off that time, more would be better. Our goal is to hit below that twelve second mark for four tires, wedge, and fuel. Remember, precise is fast. Deliberate is fast. Mistakes slow you down. Take your time, be exact, and be perfect. Let’s go again,” I instructed.
Poised on the wall once more, they were immediately ready to go again. I learned quickly that when most the guys were in the zone, they didn’t say much. They listened to my instructions and followed. We would sit and mull over every detail of today later. We would watch the recording of today’s practice and Sunday’s race, so we could break them down and find the issues. Then we’d put it all back together. For now, they continued to push.
The screeching whistle once more and started the clock as the men jumped over the wall and continued their choreographed dance with the car. Their precision was impressive. Well, most of them.
Stopping the watch once more I grinned down at the slightly faster time. “Take a break, fellas,” I instructed. “We’re gonna meet in the gym after lunch. I have another drill I want you to try. By the way, that stop was ten-hundredths of a second faster than the last, impressive.”
They fist bumped one another before jumping over the wall. The team disappeared into the garage for some much-deserved rest.
“They’re lookin’ damn good,” Kyle said stepping up to me after the team was gone.
“Comin’ along, Ky. That last stop was just under thirteen seconds. They’re gettin’ better.” Kyle Redding was the crew chief for the number fifty-five Chevy SS driven by Julius Fuller. Last year, my best friend Toni introduced Kyle to my gym and the workout system my brother Jake and I had established for the guys in her classes who wanted to be on a pit crew.
After seeing what we could do, Kyle came to us to design drills and exercises geared specifically for the movements and rigors of jumping a wall and carrying heavy equipment. Strength, agility, and repetition were the primary focus for pit crews.
“What’re y’all up to now?” Kyle asked.
“I sent them to take a break. We’re gonna start up again in the gym after lunch.”
“Okay, thanks, Cade. How’s your gym? We ain’t keepin’ ya away too much, are we?”
When Kyle and Toni approached me to come on full time to train the pit crew, I was thrilled. We worked together to design a gym area in the garage specifically for the needs of the pit crew. We created a detailed workout program for each guy focusing on their individual needs. All this extra work took me away from my gym, but my twin brother and partner, Jake, one of our trainers, and I worked it out, so the gym was taken care of while we all pursued other endeavors.
“No, we have it under control. We hired several great trainers to take my sessions and brought someone in to help with the bookkeepin’. It seems to be goin’ well, actually.”
“Good. Jules’ll be around later today. He wants to be there while y’all go over the films from Sunday’s race and your practice sessions.”
“Is there a problem?” I asked, concerned Julius might not be happy with what we had going on or the progress the team was making. I felt most guys were doing well, they just needed to keep going so they could trust one another more.
“No. Not at all. He’s very hands-on, that’s all. He likes to be involved in every aspect of the team. I found out a long time ago that he drives better when he understands everyone’s jobs.”
I nodded my understanding. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw what appeared to be fire moving across the parking lot. The fiery-haired woman scrambled quickly toward her car. Her long locks swirled in the wind, and moved away from her face. Earlier, this woman grabbed my attention when she stepped out of a little black car. Her hair was a shocking shade of auburn that shined as bright as the sun. Her shapely legs seemed to stretch for miles in the tight, black material in which they were encased. She had gentle, delicate curves; an hourglass figure hugged by formfitting clothing. She was perfection as far as I was concerned, and I didn’t even get a good look at her face.
Although I spent my life in a gym, I wasn’t at
tracted to that super-toned, gym-tight look that seemed to be the norm for a lot of women I encountered. I was more attracted to women who were softer, cuddlier.
“You like what you see there?” Kyle asked. I looked over at him, his eyes on the redhead. His smirk said he found my interest amusing.
“Who is she?” I asked. “Never seen her around before.” I couldn’t help my curiosity. It was rare that a woman caught my attention, but then again, I was always a sucker for gingers.
“That’s Harlan Dempsey. She’s an Irish amateur Grand Touring driver.”
“What’s she doin’ here?” I asked. The car backed out of the spot in which it sat and pulled through the parking lot. Soon she disappeared down the road.
“She was meetin’ with Axel. Since the driver of the sixty-five was fired for getting a DUI, Axel’s been lookin’ for someone to take the car. She apparently moved to America a short time ago and is interested in racin’ NASCAR. She was here interviewin’ for the job. Jules just had her out on the practice track.”
“Makes sense. What’re y’all doin’ for lunch today?” Part of me hoped that she would get the job, it would be interesting to see if she was as beautiful as her body.
“Jules is finishin’ up inside with Axel, we’re gonna run out and get somethin’. You want to join?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
***
“What’s happenin’ with the new driver for the number sixty-five car?” Kyle asked once our order was taken.
“I think we’re gonna give Harlan a shot,” said Julius. “She’s a damn good driver.”
“If she’s that good, then why does she want to leave the European circuit?” I asked, suddenly more curious about her and the possibility of seeing this woman again.
“I asked the same question. Why leave? She said it’s because of the politics involved. She has a baby, a son. I’m sure it’s made it difficult.” Julius took a pull of his beer before making eye contact with me. “She’s gonna come to Bristol and test Thursday. If all goes well, we may need you to train her crew. There’s an established crew for the sixty-five team, and Lou Jenkins is stayin’ on as the crew chief, but she’s gonna need some guidance, as will they. Like you did with our crew. I know you’d be pullin’ double duty, but it would help to have someone who can observe her drivin’ to talk her through the stops while getting the crew to adapt to her.”
“Yeah, I can do that. I’ll have to take time outta practice with your team, but it’s no problem.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Kyle assured me. “It’s not a big deal, Toni or I can stand by while you’re with the other team.”
“Speakin’ of which, how are things lookin’ with my pit crew. Stops have been longer than I’d prefer this season.”
“We’ve been workin’ on the specific movements they need to make the stops fast as possible. I’ll be honest with you, Jeff is a huge problem. He’s not nearly as coachable as the other guys. He’s not much of a team player, and the other guys don’t seem to have any respect for him. I show him the moves, I give him the reasons behind the moves, and he still does his own thing. He makes lots of mistakes out there and is the main reason for the longer stops.”
“Well, we don’t have time for guys who ain’t willin’ to do the work and listen to the people who know what they’re talkin’ about,” said Kyle. “Besides, I think we’ve given Jeff enough of a chance, he’s been trouble since the offseason. If he doesn’t straighten up, we’ll send him packin’. Do we have a replacement for him?”
“Here’s the thing. We do have a couple guys who could step up, but I’ll be honest, I’m not impressed with any of them,” I explained. “They aren’t leaders. I think we should look outside the current crew. We need a guy who knows how to be on a team but one who’s a leader. Most of the guys are jocks. They played sports as kids and young men. Jeff doesn’t fit the bill.”
“Yeah, the front tire carrier is supposed to set the pace, if he ain’t pullin’ his weight, he needs to go. I ain’t gonna lose another race because of his slipups,” Julius agreed.
“So, you wanna look outside of our current options?” Kyle asked.
“Yeah, I do. I just don’t know where yet.”
***
After lunch, we met Toni in the garage at Fuller Enterprises, and they all saw Jeff’s lack of enthusiasm firsthand. While others worked on machines in the gym, Jeff sat and watched. At least until he noticed Julius and Kyle standing there.
“Nice initiative. I’m gonna show Jules, Ky, and Toni some things I’ve been workin’ on.”
The team continued to work while I showed Julius, Toni, and Kyle the new drills Jake and I worked on. My twin brother, Jake was my guinea pig. He and I would team up to devise drills that would maximize results in ways that most others didn’t try. Hell, with all the practice Jake and I were getting, either of us could join a pit crew.
“This should increase speed because it teaches each guy certain movements depending on his job. It’s all about muscle memory. The more they repeat the actions, the more automatic the movements will become.”
“That’s great,” Toni said, smiling.
“Let’s see what these guys can do and what I need to do while I’m drivin’ to make their lives easier,” Julius added.
“Finish your reps, fellas. Time for films,” I announced.
Minutes later, we met in the conference room. The recording of Sunday’s race was loaded on the computer and ready to go.
“See here,” I said, rewinding the pit stop and playing it again. “Julius slides into the stall and Jeff is already on one knee as the car skids past him, he has to adjust, which takes tenths of a second off the time. You need to pay attention to where you are in relation to the car. Wait until the car stops before you set yourself. Those tenths could be the difference between fifth and first outta the pits.”
“Now, this is good,” I say with the next stop. “Watch Ryan here.” I paused, then showed the gas man taking three firm steps and engaging the gas can to the car. The entire movement was smooth and precise. “See? One. Two. Three. Gas can is secured and firmly locked on the car, his legs are apart, and he’s using leverage to make sure you get the maximum amount of gas in the shortest time. Perfect.”
We moved on to today’s practice stops. “As y’all can see, we have consistent good happenin’ here, but we have some inconsistencies also. We’ve gotta push ourselves and get the movements right. Any questions?”
“Yeah, I have a question,” Jeff stated. “What makes you think you know what to do better than we do? I don’t know about these guys, but I’ve been doing this shit for years. Why the hell should I listen to what you have to say?”
Kyle scowled at Jeff before he turned to the other guys. “Do any of y’all have this same opinion? I don’t wanna waste everyone’s time if you get what we’re doin’ here.”
“No, we’re good. We get it,” several of the guys responded.
“Okay then, go on. Jeff, stay back. We need to talk.”
We waited for the others to leave. Julius, Kyle, Toni, and I sat staring at Jeff. He had some nerve questioning the knowledge of this group. Even if he had no respect for me, he had to know that Kyle and Julius were both extremely involved with how I trained the crew.
“First, before we start,” Jeff started speaking. His tone was condescending and rude. His face, contorted with a deep frown and his eyes narrowed, made him look like he was ready to scold a misbehaving child. He was lucky Toni was sitting here; otherwise, I might have been inspired to plant my fist in his craggy face, not that he was worth the trouble. This dude pissed me off daily and if it weren’t for Toni, I probably would have said screw this shit weeks ago.
His pinched face was creased with annoyance even more than normal. He seemed to enjoy that all eyes were on him; like he relished being the center of attention. He looked around to the group as if he would get backup from someone. “I just want to say, this shit Cade has us doing is pointless. His exerc
ises and his repetitive practices are bullshit.” Jeff started to say more, but Kyle discontinued his protest by holding his hand up in a gesture to stop. “But …” Jeff tried to continue.
“No, you spoke your opinion, now it’s my turn.” Kyle cut him off before he could continue. “I’ve seen the films. Also, the exercises and other things Cade has y’all doin’ are things we’ve worked on together. They are proven strategies for every other athlete, in every other sport. Everything we do is a collaborative effort between all of us. So tryin’ to disregard one person is discountin’ all of us. You can be replaced. If you don’t wanna put in the work, tell me now so I can get one of the other guys in here.”
“This is bullshit, man. This team is so fucked up. You have a chick for a car chief and some dude coaching the pit crew who hasn’t even been on a fucking crew. I’ve worked with five different drivers. I know what the hell I’m doing.”
“The fact that you’ve worked for so many drivers, should probably be a hint that you ain’t as special as you think,” Toni interjected. She kept her voice quiet, but her words were forceful. Toni made eye contact with Jeff the entire time she spoke, her gaze gentle, but fierce at the same time. “You wanna compare what you know to either Cade or me, go ahead. You know,” she sighed, “you’ve been nothin’ but a pain in the ass since you arrived. Keep it up, and you’re gonna find yourself without a job.”
“You can’t fire me,” Jeff reasoned.
“She can make a recommendation. And right now, I have my pit crew trainer, crew chief, and my car chief tellin’ me you ain’t pullin’ your weight. Maybe we should just cut this shit off right the fuck now,” Julius barked, staring daggers at Jeff. Julius sat there, leaning back in his chair, right leg crossed over his left, and his arm stretched on the back of Toni’s chair. He might look relaxed, but his muscles were tense, ready to strike.