People I know who aren't too familiar with the sport of racing, have asked me for years, why don't you race? They know how passionate I am about the sport, what they fail to realize is how little ability I have to wheel a race car. Yes, to those who are that unfamiliar with the sport, you do need talent to be any good.
I too, like many of the children sitting in the stands at Wall Stadium, every Saturday night with my dad, used to dream of being inside one of those coupes, or Pintos, or Gremlins. Battling it out with drivers like Gil Hearne, John Blewett Jr., or Tom Mauser.
I would watch the street stocks, and think how much fun it would be to bang doors with Jerry Conner, or Bob Howard. Maybe a Modified would be out of my reach, but certainly not a street stock, right? Afterall, you just went down to the junkyard, bought a Camaro, threw a rollcage in it, and raced.
My first introduction to the realities of driving a race car, came with my becoming a part-time crewmember on the street stock of Shannon Conner. I got to see just how much time he, his father Jerry, and brother Pride, put into their cars. While I would join them in the pits to help out anyway I could, they would put in countless hours in the garage getting the cars ready for the upcoming racing that Saturday night.
Mistakenly, I still thought, given the chance I could drive one of these machines on the high banks of Wall Stadium, or even the small track at Pocono when we went there for the Race of Champions.
I didn't realize how wrong I was until years later on a road trip with Jamie Wolf's race team. We stopped at a go-kart track, on our way back from a race. By this time I had actually graduated to going over the wall in NASCAR Whelen Modified Tour events, sometimes even as the gasman, all 160 pounds of me.
The track in Binghamton, New York allowed our entire team to strap into the go-karts and head onto the oval at once. My first clue of not having any ability to ever race a car came when our driver at the time, the late Jim Willis, passed me rather easily, but hey he's a NASCAR Modified driver I thought. More clues came in the way of several more crewmembers passing me, and Willis seeming to lap me every other circuit.
However, the moment I truly recognized my complete lack of talent to ever drive a race car came when the girl who held the pit sign on the pitstops passed me. I had become an obstacle on the track, not a competitor. An obstacle who's childhood dream of driving a race car was now over.
I spent several more years helping out the Jamie Wolf race team, until my son was born. I have spent much of the last four years raising my son, and not getting out to the tracks as much as I would've liked. I would also like to think I am a much better dad than I ever would of been behind the wheel of a race car. Afterall, at four he can tell the difference between a Formula One car, an Indy Car, and a NASCAR Modified.
Getting back to the whole point of writing this. When I realized just how little talent I had behind the wheel, it made me realize just how talented others are. Also, the levels of talent, the great local racer, the great touring regular, all the way up to the highest levels at Sprint Cup, Formula One, etc. I don't have any of that talent, but it makes me appreciate those who do even more.
Luckily for me I have found a forum to stay involved in the sport. Writing about it. I just wonder, sometimes, do you ever think Dale Earnhardt Jr. takes a pause, and thinks, good thing I can drive a race car, cause I certainly can't write?
Probably not.
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