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Total number of drivers 40. Number of company teams 10. Number of tracks 20. Number of countries 12. Time frame 6 months. Number of Fallen Angels hooked on speed 2. The McGuire sisters are and they’re out for blood in the newly founded International Stockcar Racing Association. After two years driving the Formula One circuit Professional Drivers Roberta Bobbie McGuire and her sister Elisabeth ‘Beth’ McGuire have made real names for themselves. The two young ladies took the world by storm in their first year by placing 3rd and 4th in the Championship points race. Now their plans and dreams of starting in the International Stockcar Association have come to fruition. The Fury twins plan to prove to the world they belong in Stockcar Racing. And they don’t care who they have to put into the wall to bring home the inaugural championship.

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Chapter 19
Indianapolis Motor Speedway, In, USA Sunday
The Holiday Inn, Indianapolis

As the pit crew went to work Bobbie McGuire was having breakfast with her wife. Next to them in their car seats were their children. To all the world they were nothing more than a young family on vacation. Kelly smiled as Bobbie signed a quick autograph for a young teenage boy before returning to her breakfast.

“What?” Bobbie asked her before eating a spoon of Rice Krispies.

“Nothing, Bobbie.” Kelly giggled from behind her coffee cup. At the cross look from Bobbie, Kelly put her cup down smiling. “You never turn away the fans. Even when you’re eating. You always take the time. You never let your fame go to your head.”

“Like you would let that happen. I remember the last time I got a little too big in the britches. You kicked me right in the ego.” Bobbie chuckled and took drink of her coffee. “Then again I can’t let myself end up like those over indulged jackasses that parade around like the world owes them.”

“You’re acting awfully sure of yourself today, Bobbie?” Kelly snarked then squinted her eyes at her wife. “What are you up to?”

“Me? Up to something? Whatever gave you that I idea?” Bobbie counted trying to play the part of the innocent.

“I’m smelling the back pasture Roberta. Care to try again?” Kelly chuckled.

“Fine. Let’s just say that I plan on collecting on a bet today.” Bobbie chuckled.

“Which Formula One driver do you have your money on Bobbie?” Kelly asked smiling.

“All of them. This track has been an F-One track far longer than a Stockcar track. Joe, Sam, and the other drivers that came over from NASCAR are going to get a nasty surprise today.” Bobbie told Kelly and returned to her Rice Krispies.

“I’m glad to see that you haven’t forgotten where you got your start.” Kelly answered with a smile. A smile that grew as a young woman approached their table. “Good morning Sue. How you feeling this morning?”

“Pretty good actually. I never expected to find such a great gym at a hotel.” Bobbie took in the young woman’s purple sweatshirt embossed with Clemson in orange across her chest and matching running tights. “I know mom has always told me about the gyms at the hotels she’s stayed at over the years.”

“Well get used to gyms like that one Sue. Because you’ll be seeing a lot more of them over the next few years. We got four to five years before you need to start looking for a new position.” Kelly assured her with a smile. “If not longer.”

“Thank you, Kelly. Though I do wish we could get that damned problem with my passport cleared up.” Sue bitched.

“What is going on with that? I mean we thought you had your passport already.” Bobbie asked her before she took a drink of her coffee.

“I did. Mom had me get one when I turned thirteen. I still can’t believe someone would steal a nurse’s ID.” Sue grumbled as she fixed herself a cup of coffee. She looked over at Bobbie’s fruit, cereal, juice, coffee, and water breakfast. “Um… Bobbie I know this isn’t my place but is that all you’re going to eat?”

“It doesn’t seem like much Sue.” Kelly told her smiling. “But it’s for the best.”

“I don’t understand.” Sue said in confusion.

“Drivers who eat heavy before a race put themselves in danger of becoming sick. If that happens and they have to be replaced the driver loses points in the championship race. None of them want that, trust me.” Kelly quickly explained.

“Okay I’ll take your word for it. Though I still don’t understand why the drivers push themselves so hard in the gym with all that physical training.” Sue told us as she fixed her own bowel cereal.

“Sue do you remember how we sat and watched all of the races since you came into our employment?” Kelly asked smirking. Sue just nodded her head. “Do you remember how you commented on the speeds that they were traveling?”

“How could I not? I mean I think the slowest speed I saw was during yellow flag laps. Last week’s race in Texas was insane. I may be new to the racing scene but that cannot be normal.” Sue chuckled.

“Sue that is a normal Stockcar race. Speeds of over one-eighty are commonplace. At some of the Superspeedway tracks speeds of close to two-hundred-miles per hour have been reached. A few times over that mark. Because the ISA doesn’t run restrictor plates it is quickly becoming the standard. I won’t be surprised if we actually see a new lap record set today. We’ve already seen a new qualifying run times and speeds set yesterday.” Bobbie told their nanny with a sly smile. “Hell, I might even beat my best time and speed today.”

“I doubt that Bobbie. Weren’t you complaining about a feedback from the engine last night?” Kelly asked her kindly.

“I was. Though I’m sure that dad and Chief Hailee have the problem figured out by now. I should be fine. Even if I have to start from the back of the pack because of engine replacement. I know this track and I know my car.” Bobbie grinned.

“Um… what does that have to do with winning? Aren’t the cars all the same?” Sue asked of Bobbie before taking a bite of her cereal.

“To a point they are, Sue. We do make acceptable modifications within the rules for each car to fit the individual driving style of the driver. Most of which are closely guarded.” Kelly quickly explained for Bobbie who had a mouthful of cereal. “Bobbie and Beth though are slightly deferent from the other drivers.”

“How so?” Sue asked politely.

“They started their racing careers long before they ever pulled off a pit road for their first Formula One race. Those two were and still are rat racers. They were racing the backroads of Darlington County before they ever earned their driver’s licenses. Then there was all the test driving they for their parents. I think the only type of car they haven’t test drove around Darlington Speedway is a dragster.” Kelly chuckled as Bobbie shrugged her shoulders.

“What can I say. We were outlaws having fun. Just like the men who founded our sport.” Bobbie held up her hand and stopped Sue from forming her next sentence. “And we are a sport in every way Sue. Think about the sheer amount of physical training that each driver, and pit crewman put themselves through daily. Weight training, endurance training, aerobics training, yoga, stretching, all of that and in some cases more.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask about that Bobbie. I can see the pit crews going through all that but not you. I can see the endurance and aerobics training to keep your weight down but not the other stuff you go through.” Sue pointed out her view.

“Sue what is the fastest you have ever driven your car?” Kelly asked seeing the problem for their nanny.

“I don’t know eighty-five on I-twenty. Other than that, I’ve always obeyed the speed limit.” Sue answered honestly then shrugged her shoulders. “Kind of had to. In South Carolina, my Nurse’s license is affected by the number of points on my driver’s license. I know it sounds stupid but those damned Swamp Rats figure if you can’t drive like a responsible person you can’t be a nurse.”

“Then you’ve never really felt the sway, swing, or push against the side of your car in a tight turn?” Bobbie asked her knowing she hadn’t.

“Not really. Why would they sway or swing like you say?” Sue asked in confusion. “Don’t you design the cars to fight against that kind of thing?”

“It happens anyway, Sue. We can do all we can to give us a mechanical add in those situations, but it still happens. The main cause has been and always will be the speeds at which we drive. Speed equals downforce, downforce equals Gs. We constantly pull two to three G’s in the turns. That is a lot of force to fight against in the turns. I need the strength just to keep my head pointed in the right direction. All that endurance training I do is to handle all that speed for four to six-hundred miles. When I climb out of the car at the end of the race today my legs will barely hold me up, my arms will feel like rubber, and my back like shit. It takes me two full days sometimes to recover from a race longer than five-hundred miles.” Bobbie told her honestly then grinned as insight dawned on Sue.

“Wow! I never realized that auto racing is more of a sport than people give it credit for being. It’s no wonder you train as hard as you do.” She blushed as she mumbled. “I thought it was just to keep that wonderful figure.”

“Trust me on this Sue. Bobbie McGuire could eat a Billy’s Big Barn Carnivore extra-large pizza on her own.” Kelly snarked. “And go back for extra crazy bread with butter and sauce. My wife has a very healthy appetite during the off season.”

“She would need it. I’ve been doing some calculations in my head. While we’ve talked. By all rights Bobbie sweats off between three to five pounds every race. I don’t know how she does it.” Sue gave me a look of true admiration.

“Sue don’t let that country girl high school graduate act of hers fool you. Bobbie isn’t your normal typical driver. She knows more about racecar design than the other three drivers on their team. Then there is the simple fact that she and Beth are very unique drivers.” Kelly told her calmly.

“How so?” Sue asked politely. “Aren’t they all driving the same way?”

“If you watch them closely you’ll find that each driver has a very unique style of handling their cars. The cars maybe the same but not the way they’re driven. There is a reason they call Beth the Ice Fury. Because that’s how she drives. Cold and calculating. She’ll hound your bumper, pushing you, waiting for that one moment when you let your concentration slip. Then strike. Beth is also a highly technical driver. She can tell you what changes she needs to her car after five to ten laps.” Kelly explained then pointed at Bobbie with her fork. “Bobbie the other hand is a totally deferent story. One that defies all reason.”

“Wow. I’d expect deferent driving styles among the deferent types of races, but not from two raised in the same family. How is Bobbie deferent?”

“Certain people call me the Fury of Fire or the Raging Bitch. Depends on who you talk to on which answer you’ll get.” Bobbie chuckled. “IF you asked the drivers that came over from NASCAR they tell you I’m the bastard child of Dale Earnhardt and Richard Petty. Though they know full well who my parents are.”

“What my lovely wife is trying to avoid telling you Sue is this. Bobbie is an intuition style driver. Unlike her sister she can tell you exactly what needs to happen with her car in two laps at top speed. She can also tell you how a track will change throughout a race. Her instincts for racing are unnatural at times. I think there is only one driver that can react nearly as fast to changing race conditions as Bobbie. It’s her sister Beth.” Kelly told her smiling.

“Wow. When my aunt told me that I would be working for one of the newest stars in racing she wasn’t kidding. Though I am surprised that she didn’t know exactly who she has been working for over the last few months.” Sue chuckled.

“Sue this afternoon while you’re watching the kids in the bus I want you to pay close attention to the televised broadcast for me. You’ll have a radio with you. It’ll be tuned to the Spotter’s channel. All I want you to do is listen to what Kathy tells me and compare it to what is on the TV. Especially to the in-car driver cameras.” Kelly ordered her bluntly. “You’ll learn a lot from the coverage.”

“Yes, ma’am. Though I don’t understand why.” Sue told honestly.

“You’re going to be around a lot more drivers over the next few years. You need to know exactly what you’ll be dealing with Sue.” Kelly told her honestly as Bobbie stood up from the table. Kelly looked down at her watch. “That time already?”

“Yeah babe. It is. See you and the kids at the track.” Bobbie said before kissing first Kelly then the two sleeping babies. As she walked away Sue turned to Kelly.

“Um… Kelly I noticed last week that Bobbie left for the track hours before she needed to be there. Does she always do this?”

“What do you know about my wife Sue? Medically I mean.” Kelly asked their nanny.

“Honestly, nothing really.” Sue answered quickly.

“Bobbie isn’t head for the track. At least not directly. She’s headed back up to our room to grab a very special duffle bag. Then she’ll sneak downtown to nearest Children’s hospital. She’ll spent the next few hours on the deferent wards visiting the kids then head up to the terminally ill ward. There she’ll do something that only she can do. Telling them all her of her own personal story of survival against cancer and success. When she’s done she’ll hand out signed posters, t-shirts, and ballcaps to every last child on that ward. Only then she’ll head for the track. Where she’ll place her life on the line for those children with a smile on her face.” Kelly sighed and took a drink of her coffee as Sue gasped.

“Then why does she put herself on the line competing in such a dangerous sport?” Sue asked in confusion.

“She does it for the children in those hospitals and to keep a promise to a friend. Bobbie doesn’t know any other way to live her life. She’ll go out there today and push her car to its very limits. Right up to the edge and slightly over. To the point of being out of control and she’ll love every last second of it.” Kelly told the young woman. “Please don’t think ill, of her Sue. It’s just that the only time in her young life that Bobbie ever felt in control for a few years was behind the wheel of a race car. Either street racing her GTO or one of her parents designs.”

“I did a rotation on the terminally ill ward at Grand Strand, Kelly. We used to get the Make-a-Wish people in all the time. I couldn’t stand seeing those days. I really hated the code blues on that ward. I know that Bobbie had to experience more than a few of them herself. As a child it would have left a real mark on her.” Sue said quietly fighting back her tears. “Is that why she wants me to pay attention to the broadcast in the bus?”

“It is Sue. She isn’t like the other drivers. She doesn’t race the track or the other drivers. When Bobbie climbs behind the wheel of her car she becomes a deferent person. There is only person my wife ever races. It is the Devil’s Bounty Hunter.” Kelly looked over at her two sleeping babies. “As much as I would love for Bobbie to drive in a safer manner that’s not going to happen. She has faced that bastard far too many times in her younger years. She drives the way she lives.”

“How is that Kelly?” Sue asked as her professional curiosity as a nurse was peeked. If she could take the lessons she learned in this job and apply it her goal of becoming a Child Psychiatrist later on. She would have a leg up.

“She lives her life as if every day were her last. You’ve heard that old song by Tim McGraw ‘Live like you were dying’?” Kelly asked with a sad smile as Kelly nodded. “That’s how she lives and why she races.”

“Then I doubt that anyone else could use her as an example.” Kelly sighed.

“I won’t say that Sue. If you want to study psychiatry while in our employ I have no problems. So long as it doesn’t interfere with your duties to the kids. When we get home. I’ll introduce you to Doctor Sharon. As for using Bobbie as a case study do yourself a favor. Don’t even try.” Kelly giggled as she looked to the exit of the dining room. “Any other doctor would have had her committed long ago.”

“Are you saying she’s crazy?”

“Clinically insane by any definition. They have her picture on the opening pages of psychiatric textbooks as a warning to new students.” Jewels McGuire chuckled as she joined them at the table. She looked over at her grandbabies. “Have they started sleeping through the night yet, Kelly?”

“Yes thankfully. What brings you down here Mother Jewels? Looking for Bobbie?” Kelly asked before fixing her mother-in-law a cup of coffee.

“You can read me so well, dear.” Jewels sighed as she drank her coffee. Setting the cup down Jewels looked over at her daughter-in-law. “I take it that Bobbie is off to her usual race day visit?”

“You just missed her, ma’am. I believe that I can still catch her for you?” Sue offered as she started to get up from the table.

“Don’t bother, Sue. It’s best that she don’t find out until the last minute.” Jewels sighed and looked over at the nanny. “There are just certain things best handled that way with my youngest daughter. She can be quite mercurial on race days.”

“THAT’S an understatement of the first order, Jewels. Calling my wife mercurial on race days is like saying Nitroglycerin is explosive.” Kelly chuckled. “At least this time she hasn’t threatened to brain someone with a torque wrench.”

“She will if her father hasn’t replaced that cracked engine block by race time.” Jewels told her bluntly and waited for Kelly to put things together. When Kelly did, Jewels smiled as her daughter-in-law grimaced. “Yup! They’re pulling the engine of her car as we speak right now.”

“Aw shit! They better have that thing back together before she reaches the track.” Kelly snarled as the thought of her wife going ballistic on her team turned her stomach. “Sue we need to head for the track earlier than expected.”

“May I know why?” Sue asked as she started gathering up the diaper bag and one of the two car seats.

“Because Kelly needs to be there to stop Bobbie from braining her father.” Jewels chuckled and stood up. At Sue’s look of confusion Jewels explained. “When Bobbie finds out that she is going to be starting from the back of the field again. She is going to blow a major gasket.”

“Why would Bobbie starting at the back of the pack be that big of a deal?” Sue asked as the three of them headed for the elevator. “I’ve done some reading on her in the sports sheets. She’s come from behind before.”

“Not on a track like the Brickyard, Sue. It’s one of the oldest tracks in America. Also, this track is a known killer.” Jewels told the nanny. “More than seventy people have died here. The last person was a member of the safety crew Art Morris in twenty-ten. The last driver to die on this track was Tony Renna in two-thousand-four during testing. The thought that they might be the next name on that list haunts every driver out there.”

“Damn. I knew that racing could be dangerous, but I never dreamed that it could turn deadly. How many drivers have died over the years?” Sue asked thinking that there might be a paper in the mindset behind professional drivers.

“Far too many Sue. Of all the sports there are there are a very few where the athletes place themselves in as much danger.” Jewels explained for Sue. Then turned to Kelly. “When you get to the track use the Wi-Fi Kelly and look up the stats.”

“For which sport mother?” Kelly asked honestly.

“All of them. Then break them down by sport.” Jewels told her as they exited onto their floor. “See you in an hour.”

MRI stalls, Garage Area: 1230

Bobbie walked into her garage in a great mood. Her time with the kids on the ward had brightened her spirits. It reminded her of her promise to never give up. She was able to get more than a few of the kids to make the same promise. As she handed out the signed posters, ballcaps, and t-shirts, she was rewarded with smiles. In more than a few cases there were tears with those smiles. Bobbie extracted a promise from the ward nurses to tune in the race on the ward’s dayroom’s TV for those who could make use of it and in the rooms of those who couldn’t.

Bobbie knew that the kids would go out of their way to watch. If only to see her race. Those kids didn’t care if she won or lost. Just that Bobbie had come to see them. Bobbie knew what her clandestine visits did for the children. More than once Julie Manner had tried to get her to take someone from the press office, but Bobbie always refused. It took Jewels McGuire to explain why over cocktails one night. When Julie finally got Bobbie’s reason she dropped the matter.

Bobbie’s great mood though didn’t last long. The swarm of mechanics surrounding her car and the engine hoist made her stop dead. “What the fuck happened?”

“Cracked engine block, Speedy. We’re almost done making the change.” Bob called out from under the car. “Go get changed and ready for the race.”

“How the fuck did the engine block crack?” Bobbie demanded.

“The usual fucking way. Now go get changed. As it is we’ll be pushing the time limit before inspections.” Bob growled from under the hood of her car.

“That damned engine better not fucking blow on me during the race.” Bobbie told her father as she turned and headed for her bus.

“Get a move on people. I got a feeling that if Bobbie misses this race.” Bob McGuire told the crew as he looked over his shoulder at his daughter’s retreating back. “We’ll be the ones that she takes the torque wrench to.”

With less than 40 minutes to race inspection Bob and the crew closed the hood on Bobbie’s car. After Bob reported the change in engine the race officials naturally applied the penalty of moving Bobbie to the back of the field. Something that Bob knew was going to piss his daughter off to no end.

Bobbie’s bus

As Bobbie entered her trailer she found her mother, Sue, Kelly, and the twins waiting for her. “I take it that dad gave you the good news already mom?”

“You could say that Bobbie. Though I wouldn’t exactly call it good news. How did you find out?” Jewels asked of her.

“Stopped at the garage before coming here. Talk to me mom. Just how bad was the engine block cracked?” Bobbie asked with real concern.

“When your father called me this morning. All he told was that we needed to change the engine and the transmission. I won’t know exactly what went wrong with the engine until I can examen it on my own.” Jewels explained for Bobbie.

“Mom this is the second time we’ve had to replace a powerplant because of a cracked engine block. What the fuck is going on?” Demanded as she headed for the back of the bus to get changed. “Engine blocks just don’t fail like that.”

“You’re right about that Bobbie. I won’t argue that point. The problem we’ve had is getting the manufacturing specs on the engine block materials. There should be absolutely no reason for those blocks to be cracking the way they have.” Jewels explained. “By all rights we should still be using the same engine blocks from the beginning of the season. The problem is Benz recalled those earlier blocks.”

“Just fucking great, mom. When were you going to tell me about them recalling to early engine blocks?” Bobbie snapped.

“I wasn’t to be honest. I don’t know what is going on with our suppliers. The only thing that makes any sense at this point is a failure in the quality control.” Jewels knew that Bobbie wasn’t liking what she was hearing. The thump of a fist hitting the closet drove the point home.

“Damn it! You tell those cocksuckers. That if I have one more engine block crap out on me during a race. We’re going back to building them in our own facilities. Jack, Dan, Cole, and Dale can turn out what we need.” Bobbie snorted as she stormed out of the back area of the bus in just her Nomex under suit. “You may be the owner and lead designer for MRI mother. But it’s our asses on the line out there.”

“Calm down Robert!” Jewels yelled. Only to get a dirty look from Bobbie. “Fine I’ll pass the word onto our suppliers.”

“Look mom I know that you’ve probably been getting the runaround from our suppliers. We still need answers as to why our engine blocks have been blowing up on our asses. At the current rate we’re going one of us is going to lose an engine in the middle of the race big time. I don’t know about Beth, Sam, and Jim but I can tell you that I don’t like playing Russian Roulette at one-eight plus.” Bobbie sighed.

“Your father and I don’t like it either. This sport is dangerous enough as is. Having dodgy equipment under you kids doesn’t make us feel any better. I’ve already told your father to stash that cracked block. I promise you that I will get to the bottom of this damned problem.” Jewels grinned wickedly. “Even if I have to go behind the backs of the COWWs.”

“COWS?” Sue asked in confusion. “Who are the COWWs?”

“Crazy Old White Women.” Bobbie explained with a snarky smile causing Sue to sputtered at the explanation. “I know it’s not very PC but to hell with that shit. Besides the granddames know how we feel about them.”

“You actually call the granddames of Mercedes-Benz Crazy Old White Women?” Sue asked her in total disbelief. “And they know about it?!”

“Yup sure do. I think they find it funny.” Bobbie told her with the same snarky smile. “I do know that they hired your mother so didn’t have to deal with our teams. I mean I had to arrange etiquette lessons for Jim, Sam, and their fiancées before their first meet-n-greets. The granddames know that we’re a bunch of unruly rednecks that get the job done. The best way to let us do that is to get out of our way and find us a mouthpiece that can deal with the public and corporate bullshit.”

“Hence my mother. Damn, they maybe a pain in your ass but they’re crazy. Crazy like foxes.” Sue chuckled. “No wonder you call them COWWs.”

“Bobbie you need to finish getting ready. We have the fan walk in twenty minutes. After that Driver Introduction at two. With the prerace ceremonies at two-fifteen, and the roll-off at two-twenty-five. If everything goes right the green flag drop at two-thirty.” Jewels told her bluntly as she read off the day’s itinerary. There was one event that she skipped over. The prerace inspection. She wanted to keep Bobbie out of the garage and her husband’s team’s way.

“Okay mom I get the hint. Stay out of the garage and away from dad’s crew if I want to race.” Bobbie answered snidely before taking a deep breath to calm herself at the look Jewels gave her. After she let it out Bobbie looked her mother in the eyes. “I get it. For now, I need to keep my cool and let dad do his job. When the flag drops I do my job. Only today I need to step up my game.”

“That is where you’re wrong Roberta. Speed is but one clue to winning at the Brickyard. Control is the second. Patience is the third key. Now tell me what is the last final and last key to winning here at the Brickyard?” Jewels asked Bobbie forcing her to play their old game.

“Knowledge of the track.” Bobbie answered without thinking.

“Start line to finish. Take me through one full lap.” Jewels ordered. “Get me a full Stockcar start. Two lines.”

“Inner or outer lain?” Bobbie asked.

“Your on the pole, inside line. GO!” Jewels countered with a smile.

“It’s a relatively flat track by American standards. Due mainly to the way it was first constructed and the fact that it is one of the oldest operating tracks in America. The track is two-and-half-mile-long rectangular oval with dimensions that have remained essentially unchanged since its construction. It has two five-eighths mile-long straightaways, four geometrically identical quarter mile turns, connected by two one-eighth-mile short straightaways, termed ‘short chutes’, between turns one and two, and between turns three and four.” Bobbie closed her eye as she talked about the track to better see it in her mind. “We come off turn four onto the front straightaway. The start/finish line is point three tenths of a mile from this point marked by the three-yard-wide stipe of bricks. We hit turn one at the end of the front straightaway. All four turns have a nine-degree banking. Unlike the straightaways of which there are four. Two short straightaways at point one-two-five miles long. The two long straightaways are the front and back straightaways at point six miles long. The five most dangerous times of the race will be in the seconds that we exit each turn and crossing the bricks. To win will take all four elements, plus a massive amount of luck. From the drop of the green flag, I’ll be at a massive disadvantage starting from the back of the pack.”

“Very good, Roberta. Now tell me how you get around this disadvantage.” Jewels ordered her with a smile.

“There is only one way around this disadvantage. The pit stops. I’ll have to shave as much possible time off each stop. All without breaking pit road speed.” Bobbie grunted then chuckled. “And a few other damned rules.”

“Good. You got your fucking head back in the game. Go get dressed.” Jewels said pointing towards the back of Bobbie’s bus.

Pit Road; Race Time 02:30

I slide through the window of my car with Danny’s help and into my seat. We’re running fifteen minutes behind thanks to a long-winded preacher giving the Invocation today. As I put in my earbuds I went ahead and keyed up my race mix for today then hit play on my iPod. Once I had my Nomex hood and helmet on I pulled on my gloves. As I was putting my helmet on Danny did up the safety netting to my window. Once again I send up a silent prayer that I won’t need to use a signal the ISR Officials that I’m alright following a wreck. With the net up and my helmet on Danny headed for the pit road wall.

“DRIVERS! START! YOUR! ENGINES!” The second I heard those four words I flipped the battery switches and smashed the starter button. The V-8 roared to life. I looked out the windshield at the six cars in front of me. As the sounds of Iron Maiden’s Aces High filled my ears we rolled off pit road. I had to chuckle. I keyed my radio.

“Kathy when you get the chance kick Joey in the butt. He’s this week’s winner for the Screw with Bobbie’s iPod Challenge this week. While you’re during that find out how the sneaky little twit did it.”

“Mom gave me the key before I came to the track this morning.” Joey radioed back.

“That was going over the line little brother. I don’t care if it was to win the challenge. When I get done with this race I’m kicking your sorry little butt.” I snarled over the radio at him. Only to hear the rest of our team spotters laugh. When Aces High was replaced by Metallica’s by Dairy of a Mad Man just as the green flag dropped. The race was on, and I went to work.

I shift into fourth gear by the time the field had reached turn 1. This race wasn’t going to be our normal 450-500 miles long. Today’s race was all about endurance more than any other. Today’s race is 600 miles long and take more than 4 hours to run from start to finish. I’ll need my music more than ever today if I’m to win. The one good thing about today’s race is NASCAR stepped in an forced the used of restrictor plates on the engines. I know that won’t matter much in pack racing. But there are just somethings that you don’t take chances with and speeds over 190 is near the top of that list.

We were already pushing 189.9mph on the back straightaway and we hadn’t completed the first lap. When we came down off turn 4 onto the front straightaway I realized that this was going to be one of the fastest 600s on record. We got 239 laps to go. “Oh man is today going to be a long day.”

“Still in Speedy. Today is all about who can last the longest.” My father told over the radio. “Remember we got a competition yellow on lap thirty. With segment stops on laps sixty, one-twenty, and one-eighty. Play the long game kid. Remember we don’t need today’s win. You’re still first in the driver’s chase, with Beth, right behind you. You got Jim and Sam tied in third place. MRI holds first place in the Manufacturer’s Race with a twenty-one-point lead.”

Dad was right I need to calm down and play the long game. I don’t have to win today. I just have to finish the race in the top 10. I got 239 laps to get there. I may not have the best car out here today, but I got the best team. It will be my team that makes all the difference in the race today. My friends on the pit crew. Mom, dad, and Kathy on top of the pit box. Kathy and the other spotters looking down on the race from on high. It would be all of them that will win the race for me today.

We had just completed lap 7 when my first break came. The inside car on row 12 blew its engine on the short chute between turns 1 and 2. As it pulled down onto the apron and we passed I got a look at the car’s number. Kathy confirmed what I saw before we even got the yellow flag. “Bobbie that was Oscar Johnson from Reynolds Racing. The wrecker is already rolling. The officials are debating on opening pit road after the next lap.”

I made a fast decision and keyed my mike. “I won’t be coming in, Kathy. I can use the yellow flag laps to move up in the field.”

“Don’t be stupid Speedy. If they open pit road your bring that beast in. Understand?” Chief Hailee ordered me over the radio.

“No Chief I don’t. If I stay out I can pick up seven to ten spots easily. If not more.” I know that I was bucking Chief Hailee, but I could already see a trend forming in the race lanes of the track. “Let me stay out.”

“What are you seeing kiddo?” Mom asked quickly cutting off Chief Hailee.

“I don’t know yet mom, but there’s a trend forming in the lanes.” I answered quickly. “One that just might give me an edge for passing.”

“How big of an edge and where?” Chief Hailee asked next.

“That’s just it Chief. I need more time on the track at slower speeds to figure that out. The yellow flag laps show be enough.” I told him honestly.

“Bobbie do you think that five yellow flag laps would be enough?” Dad asked next.

“Honestly I don’t know. That’s why I want to stay out if they open pit road.” I knew that I was gambling but sometimes you have to gamble in racing.

“Stay out Bobbie. I’ll back your play.” Dad told me. “Besides it’s my fault that you’re in last place. I should have doubled checked those new engine blocks back home at the shop before using them in the cars.”

“Not your fault dad. Talk to mom. She’s got a theory for why we’re blowing engines or cracking the blocks.” I radioed backed.

“You’re only going to get three laps Bobbie. The officials have decided to wait until the competition yellow for the first pit stop.” Kathy reported over the radio.

“Damn. Not good. Speedy you better figure out that passing lane as fast as you can. Because I just got a report from Beth and the others. It’s not good.” Mom told me.

“How bad is it mom?” I asked quickly.

“It’ll take all four of you running as a team in the draft to take home the win. That’s the good news. The bad news is the other teams have already figure that little tidbit of information out. They’re actively blocking Beth and the boys. Keeping them from hooking up. The only one they’re not blocking or looking for is you.” Mom told me with a nasty chuckle in her voice. “You know what to do baby girl. Run this race the way you want.”

That was all I needed to hear. Five laps later the green flag was dropped, and we were back to racing. There had been only one hiccup in my plan to stay out during the yellow flag laps. The rest of the teams had stayed out as well. With no way of gaining a few positions I could only wait until the green flag. I did figure out what I needed about the passing though.

With a snarl in my voice, I radioed Kathy. “Time to turn this beast lose. Call ‘em out as I pass ‘em Kathy.”

“Okay Bobbie. You’re in currently in thirty-nineth. On the inside. You got Nazarova Grigorievna and Koychev Fyodorovich right in front of you. Both of them are F-one drivers and know this track. After that you got a mix of driver styles covering every field there is through the next twelve rows. With Stockcar drivers taking up half of those spots. You got the advantage here. Now take them one row at a time. You know how Grigorievna and Fyodorovich drive. Take ‘em on the outside of turn three and crossing the short chute.”

Over the next 24 laps between Kathy’s direction and the speed of my car I was able to advance 9 positions. When the competition yellow came I held the 30th position. Mostly to Kathy’s hard work and her ability to see what I couldn’t see at 189 mph. As we pulled onto pit road on lap 32 I thanked the gods and demons of speed that when I qualified I was the third fastest. This allowed to me to pick my pit stall. For once I let mom talk me into taking one of the stalls near the middle.

The second I slid to a stop in my box I turn my eyes to the one thing most pit crews didn’t have, the pit box stopwatch. At 0.01 I watch as my pit crew cleared the inner wall. Danny, my jackman runs around to the right side of the car. Before I know what’s going on he has the car in the air. Even as he is raising the car off the ground I hear the scream of Casey, and Sherry’s air guns. I feel Greg slam the first of two gas cans home at the left rear corner panel fuel port. Joseph and Will bust their asses with the carrying the replacement tires. I felt the right-side slam down at 6.14 seconds as Will ripped the first of ten tearaways from the front windshield. At 6.48 seconds I feel the left side of my car bounce into the air. The scream from the girls’ air guns is load enough to drown out the low rumble from the engine in idle. I shift into 1st gear as the clock hit 13.25 seconds and Danny drops the right side of the car. As I left my pit stall I took one last look at the time.

I keyed my mike as I passed cars still in their boxes that had stopped before me. “Nice going team. That was a world record pit stop at thirteen-point-four seconds. You just got me six spots on the rest of the field. I couldn’t have asked for more. Thank you. Now I got to show what I can do with the edge you gave me.”

“Listen up Bobbie. I gave you two pounds in the left side tires. That should give you more grip in the turns. I need you to talk to me over the next fifteen laps.” Chief Hailee called out over the radio.

“Copy that Chief. I’ll do my best. Right now, I got my hands full. This race is a long way from being over.” I radioed back as I pulled onto the track. As we lined up to restart the race Kathy let me know that I was now in thirty-first. I still had twenty-two positions to go before breaking into the top ten. Not an easy task by any stretch of the imagination. I knew that I would need all my skill, and luck to pull off a top ten finish.

“Bobbie when the green flag drops push for the inside line hard and stay there. Hug the apron for as long as you can.” Kathy called out.

“Copy that Kathy. What are you seeing?” I asked her.

“The inside line has a tighter, faster grip than the outside line. You should be able to pick up at least four to five positions over the next four laps. Push for a three wide race for as long as possible.” Kathy told me. Over the last three years I have learned to trust her intuition about tracks under race conditions. Of the four spotters on team MRI only her mother Coach Hall was better.

When the green flag lap dropped on lap 35 I dropped down to the apron. I was expecting to be all alone, but I had company. Three other cars behind joined me on the apron. Before I knew it the four of us were running three wide with half the field. From position fifteen going back the field was racing three wide and I now sat in fifteenth position nearest the apron.

The fourteen cars in front of us were running two wide, nose to tail. One wrong move and there would be a shit storm of a wreck. Screw the ‘big one’ a wreck right now would take out half the field. If not more. Talk about pucker factors running high. I think I felt my ass suck up my seat cushion. The longer we ran this way the greater our chances of wrecking. Something need to give and give soon. I kept praying for an opening to get around the cars in front of us, but they stayed tied together side-by-side. Leaving me no way around. The dirty rotten bastards.

Thankfully the gods of speed heard my prayers. We finished the first stage under green flag conditions. When the green/white checkered flag flew on lap 60 I breathed a sigh of relief. Now we just needed to reach lap 120 without further mishaps. It doesn’t matter. I know there will be yellow flags thrown over the next 60 laps. They’ll be for everything from blown tires, single car wrecks, debris on the track, and everything in between. I just don’t want one thrown for a multi car wreck. If there is one I don’t want to be in it. Under the competition yellow flag at the end the first stage the field rolled onto pit row on lap 61.

Even as I was pulling into my pit stall. I could tell that my team was going to turn in another record-breaking time. There was a visible aura of speed and victory surrounding them. The second I stopped they cleared the wall. Even before the right side was off the ground the air guns were screaming and fuel was pouring into the tank. I looked up at the pit clock when I felt the car slam down on the right side. I had to do a double take at the time. IF they kept up this rate I would leave my pit at with another 13 second pit stop. I looked over the pit clock a second time as Danny dropped the driver’s side of the car. AS I pulled away I couldn’t believe what I saw, 12.93 seconds. A record breaker.

When we lined up for the restart Kathy told me that I had moved up to 12th place. Talk about up moving up through the pack. I only had one problem. Beth, Sam, and Joe were all back in the twenties. All three were plagued by problems on their last pitstops. For Sam it was a case of a jammed air gun, Joe had a tire roll wrong, and Beth had a jack failure. Once again I was on my own.

As the field roll off turn 4 and into the restart zone the sounds of Ozzy Osborne’s Crazy Train fills my ears. A slow nasty grin comes to my lips. If my mother saw my face. She would be screaming for me not to do something stupid. Not that it would stop me at this point in the race. I was in 12th position and on the outside of row 6 near the front of the field. I also had a massive advantage over the ten cars in front of me. Kathy had spotted something about the outside edge near the outer wall. Over the last sixty-four laps a four line of attack had slowly appeared.

The green flag dropped, and we were back to racing. “GO HIGH BOBBIE AND STAY THERE!”

I didn’t even think twice about following Kathy’s order. Before I know it I was side-by-side in third position on the outside nearest the wall going three-wide into turn 1 at over 180mph. The fucked part was the rest of the field had gone three wide behind us. Talk about pucker factors reaching an all time high. If we keep this up someone asshole is going to wreck. I just hope like hell they don’t take out the rest of my team with them. As we crossover the short chute into turn 2 I let the notes of Crazy train take me away.

There is only me, the music, and my car now. The rest of the world has fallen away. I can hear Kathy over the radio as she fills me in on the rest of the field. She warns me of potential threats from other drivers. The side draft from the second-place car is screwing with my speed. If is could just get ahead of them. I know that I would take over first-place and the lead. Then it happened on lap 89. Just before our pit window. I had a feeling about the reason for the wreck.

“YELLOW FLAG BOBBIE! HIT THE BREAKS! BACK OF THE FIELD! Kuno Junzo and Nathan Watson tangled up at the rear of the field. It’s a bad one. Got sheet metal and rubber flying everywhere. Ah shit! Junzo’s radiator let go big time. The cute between three and four is covered in fluid. It’ll take the wrecker and cleaning crews at least four to five yellow laps to clean up this mess. Don’t be surprised if they throw the red flag once pit road is open.” Kathy warned me.

“Kathy did one of them blow a tire?” I asked her.

“How did you know? But you’re right. Watson blew a left front tire and turned down into Junzo on the exit to turn three.”

“Damn. I knew that I wasn’t imagining it. Chief Hailee before I come in check the old left front tires. I got a nasty feeling that the left side tires are wearing out faster the right sides.” I called out over the radio.

“Already on it Bobbie. The second Junzo spun down like that. How did you know it was a blown tire?” Chief Hailee asked quickly.

“Got feeling as always, Chief Hailee. We both know that this track will eat tires like crazy. I got a feeling that our pit window is going to be a lot tighter than we first thought. Closer to thirty laps than thirty-five laps. Not because of fuel millage but tires. We’re going to go through them like crazy today. Especially at the speeds we’re running today.” I told him.

When pit road finally opened on lap 92 the whole field headed down for fresh tires and fuel. As I entered my pit box I had a mile wide grin. I knew this time I would be the first off pit road. That’s when all hell broke lose and my luck went into the crapper. The left side tires blew and dropped my car on the pavement three pit boxes from my own. I was grinding the left side under carriage as I pulled to a stop in my pit box. Sparks were flying everywhere. The next thing I knew I had a fire in my engine compartment in my pit box of all places.

With fire blazing out from under the hood. I killed the engine and dropped my window net. My pit crew went from servicing my car to fighting a pit bow fire. Danny, Sherry, and Casey helped drag me out of the car and away from the fire. Meanwhile Greg, Joseph, and Will came over the wall with extinguishers. I can feel the heat coming off the car from five feet away as the gang pulls me over the pit wall. Once on the other side I stood there watching my race come to an end. I as turned and hugged by mom then dad. I still had my helmet on so that made things a little awkward. Though once I had it and my gloves off I got hugged again. Only this time it was Kelly giving the hug. Of all the ways that racecar drivers can die. Death by fire is the one that we all fear the most.

I heard the firetruck pull up and their heavy-duty fire extinguishers blasting my car. If they were breaking those out. Then the fire was close to being out of control. Not something you want on pit road. When I looked back at my pit stall I saw that the stalls in front and behind were empty. The ISA officials having cleared them and their cars away from the fire.

“Don’t worry Bobbie. Once the fire is out. I find out what happened.” Dad reassured me as he studied the car and fire.

“You can start with the break lines and oil pan dad. I got a feeling that the one of them let go during the slide. The heat off the breaks or a spark ignited them. I know that you guys do you best taking care of the cars. You had to trade out the busted block on short notice this morning. I don’t know of anyone who could have pulled that off as fast as you and the guys. This is nothing more than bad luck.” I grossed then snorted. “At least it wasn’t on the track.”

“True but this will put us under the red flag for at least half an hour. No way around it. At least most of the field were able to get clear of their pit stalls before your car broke into flames. Their stopping all of the cars on the back straightaway for safety reasons. Once they give the all clear they’ll bring everyone down onto pit road for full pit stops and safety checks.” Chief Hailee said as he join me and my family.

“How bad was the fire Chief?” I asked him.

“The car is a total write off. For safety reasons we’ll need a wrecker to tow from the pit to the garage. We got lucky that the fuel tank didn’t blow on us.” The more Chief Hailee informed me about the car the more I wanted to puke.

“At least the rest of the team still has a chance at a win.” I said hopefully.

“Your mouth to god’s ear.” Kelly quipped. “Let’s go watch the rest of the race in the bus love. You can explain what’s going to Sam. She’ll understand it better coming from you.”

-----tbc-----

It has taken me a few months to return to my favorite race team but now that I have I'll been finishing the story.