Saturday Night Racing

Finishing races is important,but racing is more important. -- Dale Earnhardt

Old Benny was sure right about flipping a racecar, Jasper thought, as he barrel rolled the black, number twenty-eight, BJ and Son’s Lumber sprint car down the backstretch at Mid-County Speedway. Jasper saw dirt then lights, dirt then lights, about a half dozen times ‘til the car came to rest on its side outside the third turn guardrail.

A little dazed, Jasper pulled off his helmet, unbuckled his safety belts, and climbed out of the wrecked car. He sat down on the ground to give his mind time to figure out what the heck just happened.

The turn three firemen with the mangy mullet and missing front tooth was the first person to come over the guardrail with his fire extinguisher in tow. “You alright?” he asked.

Jasper did a quick check, no part of him hurt worse than the rest. He’d sure feel this one tomorrow though. “I’m okay,” he replied.

The firemen offered Jasper a hand up. “I thought for sure you were going to be a dead one,” he said. “You rolled this here car twenty times before you went out over the guardrail. Your car ain’t in real good shape…”

Jasper suddenly became aware of the pile of twisted steel that use to be his race car. The front axle and wheels were missing. They were probably still laying somewhere on the backstretch. The front clip of the chassis was ripped in two and bent back a good eight inches. Jasper shook his head. The car was junk. He knew he’d be lucky to salvage the engine, tranny, and rear from the thing. It would take a lot of work and beer to get the car in the trailer tonight.

The scene was now illuminated by the red and white lights of the fire truck and ambulance. More people had made their way to the wreck including safety crew and track officials. A lot of people from other teams’ crew came across the track to gawk at the mangled car laying down over the bank. It’s not too often that a sprint car ends up going over the guardrail at Mid-County, this was a real treat for them tonight.

Jasper climbed over the guardrail, back onto the track. There sat Tom Gilbert in his car with a flat tire, waiting for a wrecker to come pick them up. “I am going to kill him,” Jasper mumbled.

Tom’s rusty chassis was at least fifteen years old and that tin can he called his engine should of blown up two seasons ago. The body of the car was painted an ugly shade of light pink and the numbering was done with discount duct tape. The car looked like it wasn’t washed from week to week nor was any effort made to make it go any faster. Tom couldn’t get out of his own way, let alone the way of others. This night was no different.

Jasper was running second. With nine laps to go, he was quickly running down Bill Benton for the lead. If Jasper could have pulled it off, it would have been his first win since he moved up to full sized sprint cars. The lead pack had caught the tail end of the field and was working its way through lap traffic. Jasper was just about to pass Tom coming out of turn two when Tom looped his car sideways in front of him. Jasper just clipped Tom’s front tire, but that was all it took to send him end over end.

Jasper’s anger clouded his mind more than the violent impact of the cash. He ran down to Tom’s car and stuck his head right in the cockpit. “Learn to drive, Jasper screamed. “Or keep this piece of crap at home.”

Tom just sat there with his head down. Jasper shook Tom’s car a bit. “Do you hear me?” he asked.

Jasper felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see the track security guard. Jasper had plenty more to say to Tom but he figured best to keep his peace. The pleasure of beating the crap out of Tom wasn’t worth getting kicked out of Mid-County Speedway.

Jasper began to walk aimlessly away from Tom’s car. The security guard yell after him, “Bet you wish I would of got you thrown out for what you did coming in the track tonight. Then at least your car would still be in one piece.”

Jasper smiled a little while remembering what he did to the security guard earlier that night. With everything that happened tonight it was still pretty funny.

Early that afternoon, Jasper and his girlfriend were waiting in line with the racecar hauler to get into the pits when the gates open at four. The tractor and trailer was like everything else Jasper owned; cheap, mismatched, and, with Jasper’s touch, it got the job done better than anything anybody else had. The rig was a ‘73 Peterbuilt Jasper bought off some guy for a thousand bucks. He had spent all last winter overhauling and restoring it. The closed trailer was bought when Jasper was still racing microsprints. His full sized sprint car fit in with a mere inch on either side if he unbolted the front and rear bumpers and took the wing off.

The rest of Jasper’s crew pulled up in a rusty old blue Chevy pickup behind the trailer. Well, if you could call them a crew. Good help was so hard to come by, so Jasper made due with his girlfriend, dad, uncle, and Fred, the kid that just kind of showed up one day. The guys got out of the pickup and walked up to the rig.

“It looks like rain tonight,” Jasper’s uncle said. “The clouds over there sure look bad.”

“Nah, the weather channel is calling for isolated thunderstorms,” Jasper’s girlfriend replied. “The radar looked like everything is gonna go above us.”

They stood there staring at the sky. The afternoon had grown hot and sticky. Jasper kind of wished it would rain. A rainout would mean dinner at Applebee’s and sitting around the garage drinking beer followed by an easy week since the racecar would still be clean and in one piece, a rare treat during the summer.

Fred came skipping back in that strange walk of his from buying pit passes. “Looks like the security guards are going to check trailers again tonight,” he said.

“Lord knows we could fit twenty people in this here trailer to sneak into the pits,” Jasper’s uncle said. “Sure be funny to put a blow up doll in there some night.”

Jasper climbed down from the rig. “I’ll show them,” he said as he opened up the trailer door. He struggled to crawl over the racecar to get to the front of the trailer. Jasper managed to get the car rolled back just enough so he could get his hand into one of the cabinets in the front of the trailer. Out he came with the grease gun. Jasper smeared a healthy glob on the back of the trailer door handle.

The track gates just opened and the line began to move forward. Soon it was Jasper’s turn to pull across the track. It was all him and his crew could do to keep from laughing hysterically as they watch the security guard go to open the door and look inside. He closed the door with his other hand. The security guard then wiped his hands on his white shirt before he saw exactly what was on them. The look that followed was priceless.

Jasper’s girlfriend just made it to the wreck. She was out of breath from running from their trailer that was parked on the other end of the track. “I got worried when I didn’t see you come back around,” she huffed. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Jasper said.

“What about the car; where is it?”

“Oh, over the guardrail.”

“How did you end up there? I didn’t see I happen. I was watching Smitty and the forty-seven race.”

“I flipped a couple of times too.”

“Oh jesus Jasper. I take it the car is pretty messed up.”

Jasper put his arm around her and they walked to the top of the track to peer down over at the car. The wrecker was just starting to pick the car up on the hook.

“Jasper, are you sure you are alright?” his girlfriend asked again.

“Yeah, honey, I’m okay.”

His girlfriend’s attention now shifted to the car. She slid down the bank and began looking for the source of the oil she spotted dripping from the car. Jasper smiled, that’s what he loved about her. She loved racing as much as he did.

The rest of his crew just made it in time to see where the car had ended up. “Geez Jasper, I thought you were going to win,” Fred snorted.

They all stared at the heap of metal that they had dumped so much time and energy into. That car was almost like a child to them. For the first time since Jasper was five, he felt like crying.

Then Jasper’s dad delivered the crushing blow. “Guess we’re done for the season,” he said. “You ain’t going to be able to afford to fix that all this year.”

Jasper didn’t need to be reminded of that now.

The wrecker began to pull away with the car. Jasper walked across the track and down the pit lane on the backstretch. His crew knew better than to follow. He found a quite place to stand along the fence in turn two to watch the rest of the race.

Jasper questioned himself for moving up to sprint cars this year. Twenty years old, with no major sponsors, he could not afford to keep fixing wrecked racecars on his welder’s salary. Microsprints had been so much cheaper to race, but ever since he was a little boy, he dreamed of racing sprint cars.

With a puff of black smoke, Benton’s motor blew up with a lap to go. Jasper shook his head and walked back to the trailer. Would of won for sure, he thought.

His crew had already begun the task of repairing the car so it would a least roll into the trailer. There was the loud hum of the chop saw and hiss of the welder. Guys for other crews gathered around drinking beer and looking at his car.

Jasper grabbed two beers from the cooler and climbed on top of the trailer to watch the pure stocks race. He still wanted to be alone.

Then, finally, Old Benny came. Benny had helped Jasper with racing ever since Jasper was in go-karts. Benny never spoke much, but well he did, his advice was invaluable. “There’s a guy in Hunter Valley that has a chassis for sale,” Benny said. “He’ll sell it to you real cheap I'm sure.”

Jasper tried to smile, but Benny saw right through it. “You know I wrecked a sprint car here at Mid-County about like you did back in ’75 racing Huck Smith for lead. Hundred dollars to win, big money back then. That wreck was the nastiest ride I ever took. I broke my hip in three places. Wasn’t sure if I ever race again after that one. Somehow I managed to scrape a car together. Betsy, you know, the one I still bring to the old-timer’s show. She was the faster car I ever had. Anyways kid, you’ll figure something out. You’ll probably be back next week.”

Jasper ended up buying that chassis Benny had told him about. Thirty-three hundred bucks for the chassis, front axle, two shocks, radiator, and other odds and ends. The crew worked ‘til three in the morning all week to get everything together. The car wasn’t ready to go in the trailer ‘til the next Saturday at four in the afternoon. As the push truck started Jasper’s car, he prayed that all the bolts were tight.

Old Benny was right about fixing a racecar, Jasper thought, as he rolled the black, number twenty-eight, BJ and Sons Lumber sprint car into victory lane at Mid-County Speedway.