Yellow Line – A painted yellow line that is used to mark the separation of the racetrack from the apron. In restrictor plate races, NASCAR has decided if a car goes below the yellow line to make a pass the position will not be granted and you will be penalized.
As with any year, the off-season flew by, and before I knew it, Speedweek was starting.
For the 2008 season, I finished thirteenth in points. It was the lowest I had ever finished in any division I ever raced.
You can imagine what this did to my mentality.
When we left Homestead, I was depressed. Yeah, I won the most races that season but still, I hadn’t won the championship. I understood I couldn’t win them all, but I still tried. If I ever got to the point where I didn’t try, I was retiring.
The off-season was hardly an off-season. From the hauler drivers to the mechanics and engineers testing our cars, racing was a way of life. Just because it was the off-season didn’t mean we were on vacation.
I usually took the week of Thanksgiving with my family and two weeks around Christmas. Outside of those times, I was either testing, racing sprint cars, or working with our sprint car team. With three cars running in the Outlaw series, I had my work cut out for me.
Thank God for Tommy and Spencer, or I would have pulled my hair out by now.
Back at the shop in Mooresville, my Cup team was working on the cars for the next season. Whether it was a new paint scheme or manufacturer changes, it was busy. In the offices, new merchandise was designed and schedules were being finalized. I was paraded in front of sponsors and appearances all around the county. So despite the NASCAR season only running from February to November, it never truly ended for us.
Then we had all the dealings with Grays Harbor. Luckily for me, Jen, Andrea, and Mallory were wonderful and able to get the schedule done, sponsors lined up for promoting the events, and the annual memorial race for Charlie scheduled. Without them, Sway and I wouldn’t know what to do. With three kids and our busy schedules we hardly had time to run a track, but we would never get rid of it. That track brought everything about our lives together. It would always stay in our family.
By the time I left for Daytona the first week in February, I wasn’t even sure of the day. The arrival of Sway and the kids the day of the Budweiser Shootout improved my mood considerably. It didn’t improve my aggression, though.
With the new season, new drivers came into the series.
The talk that season was Nadia Henley, a woman driver. I wasn’t sure you could even call an eighteen-year-old a woman.
She’d apparently gone through a driver development program from the same team Darrin came from. As you could imagine, I was weary of her from the start.
This year she had a full sponsorship with Leddy Motorsports and Lazer Energy.
I didn’t have anything against women drivers and raced them just the same, for the most part. Now where I might rough up a seasoned vet, I wouldn’t do that to a rookie, let alone a kid/woman rookie.
Nadia, with her spitfire attitude and red hair to match had one hell of a chip on her shoulder when Daytona rolled around. I wasn’t sure what to make of her so I kept my distance.
“Is that her?” Spencer asked when we stood on the grid prior to the duals.
I glanced over my shoulder uninterested in the commotion surrounding her. “I guess so.”
Spencer watched her for a moment, curious as to how someone so tiny could handle these cars. He assumed she was sleeping her way to the top.
Mostly he was joking because there was no way she could get million dollar sponsorships without of some sort of wheel talent.
Another driver who wasn’t sitting well with me was Shelby Clausen, another smartass eighteen-year-old kid trying to prove his own determination.
If you asked any other driver out there... veterans... rookies... anyone, they would tell you that each year it got harder and harder to win these races. The level of competition was so high that even some of the top drivers went years without a win. Hell, even Steve Vander, one of the sport’s most renowned race car drivers, hadn’t won a race in one hundred and three starts. That was a long time without feeling the pure bliss of pulling into victory lane.
Having won the last race of the season, I felt confident going into Daytona. All that being said, Shelby didn’t make this easy. Drafting in Daytona is an art—I think I’d stressed that before. Rookies, well they didn’t have that great of a feel for it so it was harder to find another driver that would draft with them. Often enough, they found themselves tailing in the back just trying to make it to the finish. Understanding this, I gave Shelby a push or two. We had tested in Dover together over the winter so I thought, “Hey, let’s give this kid a break.”
I was fucking wrong.
So there we were coming out of turn two when Shelby shot out of the draft behind me and tried to pull some kind of kamikaze move on the outside.
It backfired on him almost immediately, and he was left high and dry. He came back twenty laps later and did the same exact thing, ending up last once again. He had a strong car, that was for sure, maybe even strong enough to win, but he had all balls and no brains.
Clausen must have pulled this move another five times before he tried drafting in behind me. I didn’t have a problem with this because Bobby, who I preferred to draft with, had just pitted, and I knew we’d be pitting in just a few more laps. Clausen latched on to my bumper and pushed me around the track, but when we made it to turn four, I slowed. He didn’t pick up on Aiden telling his spotter I was pulling off, and he bumped. Bump drafting in turns was not a good idea. Not for me at least. This bump sent me flying into the inside barrier of the pit road entrance.
“Coming hard into the pit road,” Aiden warned the guys to have them back away from the wall. Sure enough, I slammed hard into the pit wall just as the guys scrambled away.
Well, at least now I was already in my pit box.
“Hey, look, you’re in your pit already,” Kyle chuckled despite his frustration.
“Heavy damage to the left side,” Mason said and then began directing orders to the crew.
I didn’t say anything more. I could have blown up, showing my aggression toward this Clausen kid, but I didn’t. I kept my head together and managed to pull through with a top ten finish.
Even after the race, when he noticed me walking toward the hauler, I kept my cool. I didn’t say any single word to him—only a head nod.
When Phoenix rolled around in April, I couldn’t say the same thing.
Night races always left everyone fired up, and goddamn was I fired up after that race from both Shelby and Nadia.
I had qualified for the pole, my entire family was there, and I wanted to win the race. Having come off a win in Texas the week before, I had a taste of victory.
Clausen was driving like a fucking jerk and making all sorts of spastic moves on his hunt to the front—he had a strong car and was running second with twenty laps to go. Since Daytona, he’d yet to even finish a fucking race so when he came charging to the front, I figured he’d just wreck. He didn’t, though; he stayed with me, and with ten laps to go, he challenged me for the lead with Nadia right behind me, too.
“Clausen is at your rear... at your door... still there,” Aiden told me. “Henley looking to the inside. Keep your line.”
“Keep your cool, bud,” Kyle warned.
He knew me too well.
“Still out there ...”
“How many more laps, and what are my lap times?” I asked, trying to hold my line as Clausen stayed with me through turns two and three, and Nadia was contemplating making her move. I just knew she was going to do something stupid.
“Three laps to go. You’re running at a 27 flat—Clausen is a 27:20.”
I felt slightly better—but not as confident as I wanted to be.
Three more laps! I chanted to myself.
We stayed side-by-side, bumping and banging, putting on a good show for the fans when Clausen came down hard on me in the last turn. He basically cut me off. I had no choice but to lift. He was leaning on me so hard when I lifted, he shot down in front of me, and I ended up smashing into the back of him, destroying both our cars and Nadia when she smashed into me. Tate, who was running fourth, won.
I was happy to see Tate win, since he hadn’t won since mid-season last year, but I was fucking pissed.
And that was putting it lightly.
I was ready to kill that shady five-foot tall bastard when I got out of the car. Once again, my temper flared in front of hundreds of thousands of fans. I pushed him, he pushed me, and before you knew it, we had an all-out pushing match not unlike the ones Darrin and I got into back in the day. Only difference here was this Shelby kid was a lot smaller.
He didn’t understand who I really was, but he was about to find out.
“What the fuck was that?” I asked, not calmly.
“What? I had position on you,” he answered, shrugging.
“Position, really?” I shoved him again. He fell back against his car, scurrying to find his footing as I stepped forward. “You call one inch position?”
We didn’t get to finish the debate before NASCAR officials were separating us.
I clearly didn’t think about NASCAR, and all too soon Kyle gave me the word as I trudged toward my hauler. “They want to see us in the hauler.”
They wanted to see me, along with Shelby and his crew chief, who’d apparently been having some physical words with Aiden.
This was when Nadia Henley got in my face. “What the fuck was that?”
“What?” I spat in disbelief.
Alley, who was standing beside me, pulled on my arm. “Jameson, let’s go.”
I think she knew there was temptation on my part to shove this chick.
That was when Nadia reached out and grabbed my arm, too.
“You think just because you win championships you can do whatever you want on the track, don’t you?”
I laughed bitterly and flung my arms out of their grasps.
“Yeah, well …” I winked at Nadia. “Welcome to the big leagues, sweetheart.”
Alley snickered to herself, but kept step with me as I headed to the hauler.
“Nice. Two fights in one night,” Alley added, brushing past a horde of reporters.
“I’m on a roll.”
When I stepped inside the hauler, Kyle and Clausen’s crew chief, Matt, looked up at me. I made sure I slammed the door.
“Do you ever think about what you have at home when you pull shit like that?” Kyle greeted me when I threw myself in the chair next to him.
I wasn’t sure what the fuck he was even referring to. Surely, he didn’t see everything out there—he must have missed the part where Clausen caused the wreck.
“I know exactly what I have at home.” My tone was harsh, but hushed, given the various people in the hauler. “You act like this isn’t personal to me, and I should just treat it like a job. It is personal. This is my fucking life, Kyle!”
“I know that,” he shot back just as forcefully. “All I’m saying... is that I do not want to spend this season in this fucking chair!”
We both needed to calm down so I walked away. Kyle was heated, because once again, our team had to repair a damaged car. We had to answer to the sponsors, and worst of all, Jimi Riley.
Lisa told both Shelby and me this was our warning. I knew the next time we got tangled together we’d be paying for it, but it didn’t stop the anger.
I steered clear of Clausen once we left the NASCAR hauler. I had a feeling if I was alone with the little fucker I’d show him just how pissed I really was about his supposed “position” on me.
The media caught up with me as I left, and I wasn’t level-headed. Was I ever after something like this?
No.
“Jameson, can you tell us what happened there? Is this rivalry with Shelby Clausen escalating into what happened with Darrin Torres?”
That did it for me. I lost it. Only problem was, my wife and son were nearby.
I turned to the reporter and stepped forward. “Every goddamn time I get tangled with someone, you guys make it out to be way more than it really is. And every year, it’s the same bullshit! It doesn’t matter what I say to you to defend my actions on the track. They are, and always will be, irrelevant and twisted to your advantage.”
I then proceeded to forcefully push his microphone out of my face, causing him to drop it. Now it wasn’t my most graceful moment, but then again, I’d said and done worse. My choice of words wasn’t perfect, but I was mad. At least I was honest.
Sway caught up with me with Axel close to her side.
“Jameson, calm down,” she whispered softly, her eyes darting to Axel.
We were beside my hauler by now so I ducked inside with them to avoid any more media interactions and to calm myself down.
Axel eyed me carefully before smiling.
“You almost won,” he offered in his adorably timid voice he had when he was trying to calm me.
It took me a moment, but I eventually smiled and reached down to pull him into a hug.
“I know little buddy.”
You had to understand where I was coming from before you thought, “Jesus, pull yourself together in front of your kids.”
In my mind, between Darrin, Colin, and now Shelby and Nadia, it was the same shit every year, and it got old really fast. I kept waiting for a year when they would forget. But just like me, they couldn’t.
In that interview when they compared this to a rival they knew I harbored ill feelings for, that pissed me off and hurt. Yeah, it’d been nearly six years since the incident with Darrin, but it was still very real to me and still hurt. I was simply expressing my pain. I never wanted all of this; I only wanted to race. But with that came rivalry with other drivers, and that rivalry was fed by the media—whether I liked it or not.
You see, in our sport, you were allowed one angle, one image, and everything you said and did on or off the track had to fit into that angle.
The following weekend in Talladega, Shelby had apparently learned a lesson about drafting and dealing with me. Never saw him the entire race. That might have been because my car was awesome, and it was difficult for anyone to pass me, let alone a rookie who had no clue how to cut through the draft.
For now, Shelby and I agreed to disagree, much like Colin and me. But the difference came when after the Talladega race Shelby stopped by my motor coach to apologize for Phoenix. I thought that was pretty cool considering he was an eighteen-year-old kid. Either way, he scored points with me that day.
The thing with Nadia simmered down, but she made it known we didn’t exactly get along and tried to paint the picture that I was some sort of biased driver and felt threatened by a female driver.
That couldn’t have been further from the truth than the words spoken by that reporter who said the rival between me and Shelby was just the same as Darrin and me.
SWAY AND I were adamant that we wouldn’t go more than a few weeks without seeing each other. Physically, I got extremely cranky as you could imagine, and emotionally, my little spaz family kept me grounded. After Loudon in late June, it had been nearly two weeks since I’d seen Sway. Though Axel had traveled with me much of the time, Sway had stayed home with Arie and Casten.
I stayed in Loudon Sunday night and finished press interviews from the win followed by an appearance in Charlotte Monday morning, and then I was on my way home that afternoon.
The sight before me when I got home made me miss being here everyday.
Sway had all three of the kids outside, spraying them down with water.
“What are you doing?” I asked with a chuckle.
“Mama’s hosing us,” said Arie, her bright emerald green eyes wide with excitement.
“Well, that just sounds... weird. Don’t say it like that,” Sway told her.
I chuckled at them and leaned against the sliding glass doorframe.
“No child should ever go through life without showering outside,” Sway said, looking back at me. “It’s inconceivable.”
“Why are they red?” They had spots of red and black paint covering their entire bodies.
She shrugged, pouring soap on Arie’s head. “We painted the movie room. Help me out, they’re a mess.”
While laughing at my ridiculous wife, I rolled my sleeves up and got to work washing the boys. Axel thought it was funny when I scrubbed their heads like dogs, and Casten soon thought it was funny, as well. Anything Axel liked, Casten liked.
After a while and a water fight later, I looked around the backyard for Casten and couldn’t find him. Next thing I knew, he was over in one of the flowerbeds making mud pies. He didn’t have any water to make them so he used his only resource: urine.
“Are you serious?” Sway asked when she realized what he was doing.
I pointed at him and shook my head, leaning against the side of the back deck. “What do you think?” she laughed along with me. “I’m not sure whether to be proud or disgusted.”
We eventually got our little mud pie maker in the house and cleaned up and on our way to dinner with Spencer and Alley to celebrate Lexi’s fifth birthday.
I don’t mind the occasional birthday party and acting like a kid again, but I did not like Chuck E. Cheese’s.
Axel agreed with me.
On the other hand, eighteen-month-old Casten was crazy. The kid laughed all the time, had more energy than Emma, and never stopped laughing. Did I mention that already?
The kid was constantly bouncing off the rev limiter and was a tornado of destruction with a blinding smile who drew you in and relaxed you at the same time. He was the perfect combination of both Sway and me, but he did remind me more of Sway.
“Is he for real?” Axel nudged my arm while we sat and watched Casten toss the balls from the ball pit at unsuspecting people and then duck and hide in the balls as if no one tossed them. How an eighteen-month-old kid could figure out to do this should have been surprising, but not for Casten.
I shrugged indifferently.
There were so many people and kids around—screaming and having a good time—it was hard to actually talk with anyone, but I eventually made my way over to Spencer and Aiden at a table drinking beer with my dad.
“What’s with the little one?” Dad asked. “Does he ever stop laughing?”
“Not that I’ve seen.”
I took a slow drink of my beer, watching Casten closely as he tossed one at Cole, Spencer’s youngest, who walked past. Cole didn’t like being fucked with by anyone so he jumped head first into the balls and roughed the little guy up a bit, well as much as a three-year-old kid could.
“What’s the plan for Axel and Indy next week?” Spencer asked, keeping one eye on Lexi and Arie climbing on a rock wall.
“Well, we leave for Daytona tomorrow afternoon. The race is on Saturday so then we leave for Indy on Monday. I need both of his cars ready by then.” Tommy plopped beside me with Casten on his shoulders. Casten immediately crawled onto my lap and looked up at me.
“Bite?” he asked.
He did this any time he wanted a bite or drink of something.
“No, monkey, this is mine.” Sway and I called him monkey because he climbed everything.
Casten eventually lost interest in my beer when he noticed there was pizza at the table.
“I’ll have both cars ready by then. The Honda 160 isn’t ready, though. We still need to change out the tie rod in it—he broke it last week.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I told him with a shrug as Axel sat down with us. He looked completely bored. “USAC won’t allow him to race it in a sanctioned race until he turns eight.”
“All right.” Tommy nodded, and Axel frowned. “I have both 120 cars ready.”
Spencer laughed. “Did you know they moved him from the Red to the Blue Honda 120/Animal class?”
“When did that happen?” I knew the USAC rules these days just as well as I knew NASCAR or the Outlaw rules being the owner of yet another team. “You have to run three events before they move you up.” Trying to calculate the races he’d run this year, my brow furrowed as I looked over at Axel. “I thought you missed a few?”
“I did. I missed the Mason Dixon Shootout and the Milwaukee Mile.” He counted on his fingers. “I ran Dual in the Desert, Western District Qualifier, Midwest District Qualifier and the High Desert Classic. That’s four.” He held his tiny hand in my face displaying four fingers to me.
“Oh, yeah,” I nodded, ruffling his hair. He smiled up at me. “I forgot about the High Desert Classic.”
It’s not that I meant to forget about it, but April was a busy month for me between the Cup schedule and the Outlaws. I never had a chance to make it out there for that one, and usually I made it out to at least one night of his racing.
USAC quarter midgets usually ran twice a month, and the events started on Wednesday and ended on Saturday nights. When my Cup schedule allowed, Wes was busy shuttling me back and forth between tracks. No matter what, though, Sway or I was there with him.
We decided from the first sanctioned race he ran in Phoenix last year that we would always be present, at least one of us. My parents were, until I got old enough that Spencer and I could haul the cars around ourselves, and I wanted us to be part of his career just like my family was.
“I still need to get him registered for the Dirt Nationals,” I told Tommy as Axel’s eyes lit up. Last year, he wasn’t able to run due to his age. He had to be five by August, and his birthday was in December, so they denied the entry, even with my persuasion.
“I get to race Dirt Nationals?” He was practically bouncing in his seat.
I nodded with a smile of my own and tipped my head in Tommy’s direction.
“I can’t be there for the last night, but Mama and Tommy will be with you.”
Axel seemed to contemplate this for a moment but smiled anyway.
I hated that I’d miss it, but this was the life I led, whether I liked it or not. It made it easier that Sway was so willing to follow Axel around, just as my mom did, but I also felt comfortable having Tommy with him. Usually Tommy was the mechanic for Justin’s sprint car, but as Axel started racing, Tommy found himself engrossed in his career.
You couldn’t help but want to. He was so curious and determined to learn everything he could about racing, even more so on dirt. He never really cared as much about the stock cars I ran, and that didn’t bother me at all. I knew he was my kid that way. Sure, I loved racing NASCAR, but for myself, dirt was what I loved. Naturally, so did my carbon copy.
Lexi’s birthday party finally ended around nine that night, and the kids had been so amped up on sugar they all fell asleep on the way home.
With a five-year-old, a three-year-old, and an eighteen-month-old... this was ideal for a number of reasons—you could guess why.
AFTER THE ENTIRE family got back from Daytona for the race and Fourth of July, it was Monday morning, and we had two quarter midgets to get loaded and on their way to Indy. Tommy called on Sunday and told me when he went to the shop all the oil had drained from the primary car we had for Axel, so we had to get back and prepare another car. This was difficult when Sway and Emma showed up later that afternoon.
I was always amazed at the chemical reaction in children when they ingested sugar. It was insane. I didn’t ever remember acting this way, but I was sure my mom and dad would disagree with me.
Sway frowned at our sweet little girl throwing herself onto the floor of my race shop when I took her sucker away. I only did this when I found she was letting our yellow lab, Rev, lick it.
“We really should stop having kids,” Sway said. “They’re out of control.”
Even though we now had three, we still had no fucking clue how to parent them. That was evident just by looking at them.
“You’re telling me.” I ran my hand through my hair, searching around the shop for Casten; he was a quick little bugger. “Last week I left Casten in the car when I came inside. I keep forgetting how many we have.”
Looking closer, I spotted him inside of a used sprint car tire, sleeping.
Trying to get both the cars ready and loaded was not working with everyone here. Tommy was absolutely no help when he showed up with Corbin, our mechanic for Tyler’s sprint car. Everyone with JAR Racing was always willing to help me out with Axel’s cars; I guess maybe because I paid them to. Either way, it was nice to have their help.
When four o’clock rolled around and the cars still weren’t loaded, I began to lose my temper.
Which was also about the time Noah and Charlie felt the need to try and spray paint the walls of the shop. I lost it completely.
“Sway?” I snapped, pulling her inside the office, the door slammed shut behind me.
“I’ll get them to leave,” she said when she took in my jittery demeanor. “Are you okay?”
“Okay?” I snorted. “Those little shits are worse than Logan and Lucas. Get them out of here! I need to get Axel’s car ready, and if I have to explain to him that he can’t race because his cousins destroyed his car, I won’t be happy and neither will your son.”
“I know... I know. We’re leaving.”
Instantly I felt bad about everyone leaving, but this was important to Axel. He’d been talking about the Battle at the Brickyard for months now. Last month, in Milwaukee, he flipped his car and thought for sure he was done for his season until I got him two more cars. I knew this was not the way to teach him about responsibility, but I also understood the frustration he felt having wrecked. Axel never once acted spoiled and never expected to be able to race. If anything, he felt guilty for doing so.
I wasn’t sure why, but I knew my little guy enough to know he felt that way.
Before I could get started, I still had to get the twins out of the shop.
“I don’t see what the big deal is... so they spray painted the wall. Paint over it,” Emma snapped back at me, gathering up her hellions.
“Spray painted the wall?” I choked. “Those little shits set my car on fire last week!”
Aiden was snipped when the boys turned two, and he realized that reproducing with Emma was essentially a bad idea. The decision also could have had something to do with the fact that at two years old, they cut the brake line to his truck. They were dangerously mechanically-inclined assholes, and you could never, ever turn your back on them.
Axel and Noah never got along. You could barely have those two in a room together without one of them trying to start a fight. They were complete opposites in every way.
I’d never met kids like Noah and Charlie, and I’d been around some horrendous kids growing up at dirt tracks. I wasn’t lying when I said the Lucifer twins didn’t even compare to them. These kids put them to shame, although the Lucifer twins were hardly considered animals any longer.
At eleven years old and engrossed heavily in baseball, they’d straightened up and behaved like civilized humans. More than likely, this had something to do with Van being an ex-Navy seal, who wouldn’t put up with their bullshit.
“Dad?” Axel called out, coming around the side of his car. It was just him and I in the shop now. “Where does this go?” he asked, holding up the shock Tommy brought by this morning after having them re-valved.
I showed him how to put his shocks on, impressed at how much attention he paid to detail when it came to racing. I also had a feeling he’d follow in my dad’s footsteps and stay on the dirt side of the sport. He hated when the USAC series went to asphalt tracks, but I encouraged him to work on both. And he did. Well into his first season now, he’d won four of the five events he’d raced in.
Regardless of how well he did on the asphalt tracks, he loved dirt.
WHENEVER WE GOT Axel around the track and the other kids his age, the confidence he possessed in racing excelled. He was determined, confident, agile, and everything I’d raised him to be when it came to racing. He knew what he wanted and that was to win the Battle at the Brickyard. I’d won this event back when I raced USAC when I was twelve. Axel just turned five, but I wanted him to understand how competitive this sport was, and as a parent, I worried about him. When I saw him wreck for the first time I nearly had a heart attack and instantly felt bad for Sway and my parents for anything they might have felt when I’d wrecked.
“He’s just like you were at that age,” my dad said, standing beside me while we watched Axel make his qualifying run. Dad was set to leave this afternoon with Justin and Tyler for Terre Haute, but we all came out to watch the qualifiers and heat races.
“I know.” I laughed, kicking some dirt around beneath my feet when the announcer came on.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer yelled enthusiastically. I smiled instantly, knowing exactly what had occurred by the roar of fans in the bleachers looking up at the leader board. “Axel Riley in his first time here in Indy just broke the quarter midget record with that last lap. The record, held by his father, Jameson Riley, who won this event six times, had remained untouched for the last seventeen years. Who would have ever thought his son would be the one to break it?”
My dad and I started laughing. Irony. I wasn’t sure what was more entertaining to me, the fact that my quarter midget record had remained untouched for the last seventeen years or that my son broke it.
When Axel made his way back into the pits, he was all smiles having heard he broke the record.
“You did it, little buddy!” I said, smiling down at him.
He was in my arms the second he got untangled from his belts. “Did I do good?” he asked sincerely, pulling back to look at me.
“You did amazing!” Holding him at arm’s length, I smiled. “You did everything I showed you to do in qualifying. Great job.”
I only had today to be here, and then I had to leave for Chicago for the NASCAR race, so this meant I wouldn’t see Axel race in the main events on Saturday night if he made it to them.
Axel knew how I felt about that.
“It’s okay, Dad,” he told me, eating his hotdog after his heat race. “I don’t care that you have to leave. Us racers understand,” he added a wink on the end. He sat there munching on his hotdog with his arm slung around Lily.
“Is that right?” I asked, signing an autograph for a fan who stopped by Axel’s pit.
Sway, who was holding Casten on her hip beside me, laughed.
“Yeah,” he shifted his weight, leaning against Lily more. “We do what we need to do to race.”
It was true. It was in our blood. We raced because we needed to. Anyone who told you differently was lying. Like Sway always said, the people who asked you why you did what you did—leaving your family behind to race—didn’t understand why you were doing it in the first place.
Our family understood.
Axel and I said our goodbyes. “You keep him in check,” I told Lily as she smiled at my son. “Don’t let his confidence get too high.”
“I won’t,” she replied, grinning. Her bright, lively blue eyes lit up as she looked over at Axel signing autographs for some nearby girls.
My mind wandered back to the days when Sway sat in my pit, watching me. And looking down at Lily, I realized how Sway felt all those times. I made a mental note to have a talk with Axel before he took her friendship for granted as I did to Sway.
I chuckled, pulling Lily into a hug. “Don’t worry, sweetie,” I told her reassuringly as she took in the other ten little girls surrounding Axel. For one, I’d never allow Axel to be with anyone other than Lily, given he was still very young and didn’t need to have a girlfriend, but I was too attached to Lily to have it any other way. I also knew my son and could sense he was just like his father—eyes for only one woman.
“I know,” Lily said with a smile. She seemed to understand already, even at five.
Sway walked me to the car with Casten on her hip. Arie stayed behind with Ami and Lily in Axel’s pit.
“You don’t look so good,” Sway deduced, taking in my appearance, as we got closer to the SUV waiting to take me to the airport.
“I’m not. I shouldn’t be missing this.” My eyes stayed on the concrete, successfully avoiding hers. Casten squirmed, reaching for me so I took him in my arms, holding him tightly.
“Truck,” he said, pointing to the car with a laugh.
“Yes, monkey. That’s a truck.” My eyes finally focused on Sway. “I just don’t want him to think I’m never going to be there for him.”
“He doesn’t think that, Jameson. He’s very perceptive and knows what your schedule is like.”
I knew that, but it never stopped the anxiety I felt when I missed something one our kids did.
We said our goodbyes, and she promised to keep me informed of his heat races throughout the day.
Once Spencer, Aiden, Alley and I arrived in Chicago, I hardly had time to check on updates, but Alley and her altruistic side emerged. She kept me up to speed. So far Axel had qualified fastest and won his heat for his class and moved into the events for Thursday.
When Thursday rolled around, I was swamped with appearances, press interviews, and then practice. My car wasn’t exactly where I wanted it, so once again we found ourselves searching for the best setup. Even though I’d won eight races with twenty races into the season, we struggled at tracks like Michigan, Sonoma, and Pocono.
Before I got in the car for qualifying on Friday, I caught a glimpse of Alley’s blonde hair in the sunlight.
My heart started pounding, hoping she had good news from Indy.
“He’s in the A-Main tomorrow night!” Alley announced, as she entered the garage.
I smiled widely as did Spencer. “Really?”
“Yeah, he won the B-Main and transferred up. Sway is so excited, I could barely understand her.” She laughed. “You want to go?”
“What, I thought I had an appearance in Joliet?”
“We moved it to tonight.”
Against my better judgment, I pulled Alley into a hug. “I fucking love you!”
“Hey,” Spencer slapped my shoulder, pulling us apart. “That’s my wife.”
“I don’t care, she just made my day.”
Spencer winked at Alley who was now wrapped around him. “How about we go make use of some alone time in Jameson’s motor coach?”
“I swear to God, Spencer, if I find ass prints on my mirror again... I will kick your ass.” Hoisting myself into the car, I could hear them laughing. I had no problem with them hanging out in there when they needed to be alone, but sex was strictly off limits.
With the news that I’d get to see my little guy’s first Battle at the Brickyard, qualifying went well. Aside from my car running like shit, I had a great attitude and ended up getting a third place starting position for Sunday’s race.
“MAMA, DO YOU think Daddy is mad he not here?”
Lane nudged Axel as he ate his French fries. “He’s not here,” Lane corrected him.
“That’s what I said,” Axel said, throwing a fry at him.
Lane laughed and ate the fry he threw. “No, you didn’t.”
“Shut up,” Axel groaned and looked up at me. “He’s not mad, is he?” He tossed another fry at Lane.
“No, buddy, he’s not mad,” I told him, feeding Casten a couple fries from my plate in front of me. “Daddy just wants to be here with us.”
After applying another coat of sunblock to my little rusty-haired babies, Axel expressed his concern for Jameson again.
“Do you think Daddy might see me race tomorrow if I make the main?”
“Honey, he has an appearance to do so I don’t know that he can make it here on Saturday.”
He nodded and walked back to his pit with his head hung. I never worried about how demanding Jameson’s schedule was until Axel began racing. Jameson said he’d try, knowing it was only a thirty-minute flight to Indianapolis from Joliet... but his appearance was at the same time as the main events. The chance of him sneaking away was slim.
I sent him a text Friday afternoon before Axel started the B-Main.
I miss you... but I think your little buddy misses you more.
I then clicked a picture of Axel sitting in his car and sent it to him.
It took Jameson two hours before he replied. What about the other two? They don’t miss me? And what about Mama, she don’t miss her dirty heathen. He misses her!
I laughed and responded while watching Emma try to find Charlie inside Axel’s trailer, used to haul his midget.
I think they miss you, but Arie is entertained with your mom and making signs for the fan club they created for him. I don’t think Casten even knows you’re gone. Sorry. He’s more entertained by all the dirt and the people.
I see how I rate. How’s Axel doing?
Good. They’re getting ready to start the B-Main. He’s starting tenth with the inversion.
They’re inverting them?
That’s what I said, but yes, Jeff decided to invert them when Axel won the C-Main by an entire lap.
Let me guess... they pulled the engine for inspection after that?
Jameson knew USAC all too well.
Yep.
Tell him good luck for me. I’m heading out for qualifying now.
Good luck to you, too, then, and yes... I miss you!
Miss you, too, honey.
“Sway?” Emma called out on her hands and knees inside the trailer. I tucked my phone inside my purse and peeked through the double doors. “Have you see Charlie. Noah is over ...” She sighed and threw her hands up. “He was right there. What the fuck!”
“Emma.” I giggled and pointed inside Axel’s back-up car. Both Charlie and Noah were curled up in the seat, sleeping.
“Awww,” Emma cooed and snapped a picture with her phone to send to Aiden. “They are so cute.”
“When they are sleeping,” I added with a smile.
I had to admit, with their black wavy hair and bright blue signature Riley eyes, they were adorable, but they were shit heads. Having just turned four in November last year, they were slightly more behaved, but still assholes if you asked me. I had a feeling most would agree with me, especially Aiden, who currently had a broken arm because of them.
The horn sounded in the pits letting us know if was time for the kids to line up for the main. I made my way over to Tommy and Axel as they lined up on the grid. My little boy was fumbling with his helmet while his head rested on the wheel. Nancy, who had followed me over there with the kids, motioned toward the stands and herded the rest of the kids into the bleachers while I tended to Axel.
I crouched down beside him, rubbing his back. “Are you okay, little buddy?”
When he looked up at me, his eyes said it all. Axel was very confident when he was on the track, but his nerves got to him before each race, something Jameson never had to deal with. I’m sure there were times when Jameson had nerves, but not like Axel. Sometimes he would become physically sick before a race.
“I’m scared,” he told me softly.
I nearly cried when I saw him on the verge of tears as well. With over 270 kids racing, the fact that he even made it to the B-Main should have showed him he shouldn’t be scared. But with 270 other kids, that was what scared him the most.
Where was Jameson for this sort of thing? Or Justin, yes, Justin would be good, too.
Only another racer could have reasoned with Axel when he was like this. I’d tried before, but it was always Jameson who had calmed our little guy down. His fears broke through, and he admitted, “I want Daddy here.”
I wasn’t exactly Axel’s favorite; I knew where I stood with him. Jameson first, me second.
By the grace of God, I think, Lily came hopping around the corner of his car and kissed his helmet. “Good luck, Axel, I’ll be cheering!” she said with her excited blue eyes glowing.
Axel perked up. “Really?”
“Yep, I made this.” She pointed to the sign in her hand that said: Go Axel Riley #9!
Awww, to be five again.
“See buddy,” I encouraged, rubbing his back again. “We will all be cheering with you. I’m gonna videotape it, too, so Daddy will see it.”
“You mean he get to watch me later?” His anxiety washed away as he spoke.
“I will show him as soon as I see him,” I promised and kissed him good luck, leaving him alone with Lily for a minute. At five, they hardly had much of a girlfriend/boyfriend relationship, but they kissed on the cheeks.
Ami walked up, holding Kale on her hip. “How’s he doing?”
Shaking my head as Lily reached in and hugged him, I leaned into Ami’s shoulder. “How come she can comfort him, but his mommy can’t?”
“Oh, sweetie,” Ami cooed, rubbing my shoulder with her one free arm. “I feel the same way. Lily fell off the monkey bars last week and told me that she wanted Axel.”
“How’d Justin take that?”
“He wasn’t there, but when I told him later he wasn’t thrilled that Axel rates higher than we do.”
We both watched as Lily skipped away to sit in the stands with the rest of the kids and wave her sign as the cars rolled onto the track.
Tommy pushed his car off and then sat down beside me with a huff. “That kid is pickier than his father.”
I just giggled as he wiped sweat from his brow.
“Poor fire crotch.” I reached over to ruffle his orange curls.
“Cut it out, people are looking at us.” He pushed my hands away.
“What are you talking about?”
“People... they’re looking.”
I glanced around; no one was paying any mind to us. “No one is looking at us.”
His eyes glanced toward a woman off to the left sitting with her son. “Someone is looking.”
Oh, I get it. Fire crotch had the hots for the mama in front of us. Ami, sitting beside me, started laughing. I took every opportunity I could to embarrass him, and now wasn’t any different.
When I went to stand, his arm caught mine and roughly pulled me back down. “Don’t you even think about it, shit head.”
“I’m thirsty,” I told him, smacking my lips together. Ami was now laughing so hard she was crying and snorting. I turned toward her. “You’re not helping. Stop it.”
This did nothing for her attempts and made her laugh harder. Our kids noticed from two rows in front of us and looked back at us like we’d lost our minds. If only they knew we never had them in the first place.
“Do not move,” Tommy warned and clicked his stopwatch. I lost interest in embarrassing fire crotch when the four pace laps the kids ran were completed, and the green flag was dropped. At this particular event, they allowed for a one-way receiver in the cars attached to the helmets that helped with safety for the kids.
“Green flag,” Tommy told Axel as the cars all raced toward the line.
If you have never been to a quarter midget race, you’re missing out for two reasons—one, the crazed parents and two, the little racers who couldn’t keep their cars on the track. They never could complete more than a lap or two without spinning themselves or someone else.
Not my little guy, though; he kept his car straight, paid attention to the flags and other cars with the help of Tommy, and even passed others. Their B-Main event was 20 laps—by lap 7, Axel was leading.
His fan club in front of us started cheering like crazy, even jumping up and down. I made sure I got them on the video for Jameson.
“I think he’s gonna pull this off.” Tommy nodded with a smile when Axel took the white flag.
I could hardly control my excitement, handed the camera to Ami and started cheering for him just as loudly as the kids.
“Go, buddy, go!” I yelled, acting like a complete idiot.
Everyone cheered. “Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of the Junior Animal 120-class, Axel Riley!”
Quickly, I sent a text to Jameson and Alley letting them know he’d be in the A-Main tomorrow. I knew Jameson was in the car right now, so I figured Alley would tell him.
LATER THAT NIGHT, Emma, Nancy, Ami, and me, along with Tommy took all the kids out for pizza. I took some time to step out and call Jameson to see if he’d be able to make it tomorrow since he didn’t reply to my text.
“Hey, honey,” he answered in a low voice. I could hear the faint sounds of engines revving in the background and assumed they were making some changes to the car.
“How’d qualifying go?” I already knew he got third, based on ESPN playing in the restaurant, but I always asked.
“Got third... we’re changing out the gears, though, so hopefully that will make it better,” he told me. “How’s Axel?”
“He’s missing you. He keeps asking when you will see the video of him in the B-Main.”
“How about tomorrow?”
“What?”
“Tomorrow... what time does the main start?”
“The Junior Animal 120 Main starts at ten.”
Jameson was silent for a moment before he covered the phone with his hand and yelled for Alley. “Can Wes get me there by ten?”
“Yes, he will have you there anytime you need.”
“Really?” I asked. Not only would Axel be pumped, but so was I.
Jameson thanked her and then asked, “What hotel are you in?”
“Radisson Garden Inn,” I told him. “Are you coming tonight?”
“I think I will. That way I can spend more time with you guys and then be back in time for happy hour Saturday afternoon.”
We ended our call soon after that when it got too loud for me to hear him. He asked me not to tell the kids he was coming—he wanted to surprise them.
When Axel saw all the kids who raced with him today with their dads, it took all I had not to tell him.
You didn’t really see the strain our lifestyles put on everyone until you saw it in the eyes of our children. They didn’t deserve it, but they took the brunt of it.
Later that night, most of us were back in the suite getting ready for bed when Arie was telling Axel a very detailed description of her encounter with a spider earlier in the day. He wasn’t nearly as into it as she was, but Casten thought it was funny—he thought everyone was funny.
“It was really big!” Arie motioned with her hand in a circle that I was sure a whale could stick his head through. There was no way the spider was that big, and if it was, I would never return.
Axel, who was brushing his teeth, spit in the sink and wiped his mouth with his hand. “I’m sure,” he replied with a roll of his eyes.
For being five, he had quite the attitude, much like his father.
Casten walked up to me and handed me his diaper he had removed. “Ucky.”
“Monkey, you need to keep this on. I don’t want you ...” I didn’t finish the words before I felt the little trickle of pee down my bare calf.
“I’m not a fire hydrant, kid!” I told him, picking up my laughing little monkey. He’d be two in January so I knew potty training was nowhere close to the light, but I still hoped, since he wouldn’t keep his damn diaper on. He just liked to have fun and taking off his diaper and peeing on people was funny to him.
Right before I put the kids to bed, there was a knock on the door. I smiled and looked over at Axel, who was pulling his blankets up over his chest. Lily crawled into bed beside him. “Hey, where did you come from?” I didn’t remember Lily coming into our room.
“My mommy said I could sleep here.”
“Oh, did she?”
What a traitor. She knew I already had three in this suite with me, and now she was adding to the madness. Ami thought it was funny watching me parent. A lot of people did. I couldn’t understand what they found so entertaining about it—probably because I had no idea what I was doing.
The person at the door knocked again. I figured it was Jameson so I looked over at Axel. “Why don’t you go get the door, buddy?”
He didn’t hesitate before he bolted out of bed with Lily behind him.
“Who are you?” Axel asked when the door opened.
Who are you? Surely, that wasn’t Jameson. Nervous about who was knocking on our door, I walked over.
Before I could make it around the corner, the man answered, “I’m Gab, is your mommy in here?”
“Gab who?” Axel asked. I giggled when I came around the corner to see Axel with one hand securely around Lily and the other holding the door from opening any farther. My strong little boy.
“Gab Kinney.”
“We don’t know a Gab Kinney.”
The man sighed and looked in our room. “Is your mommy here or not?”
I didn’t like his tone, not at all. It was demanding, and no one was demanding with my kids unless I said so. I did not say so to this Gab, who I’d never met before. I quickly dialed Van and then hung up when he answered. This was our silent way of letting him know we needed him. Like I said, Van was never far from me and the kids—he had the room next to us.
“I’m his mommy... who are you?” I saw Van appear behind him in the doorway.
This Gab fellow looked relieved to see an adult, but hadn’t noticed Van watching behind him. He looked around the same age as me, maybe a few years older—dark hair, tan, brown eyes, almost appeared to be Mexican or at least someone in his family was Mexican.
Gab smiled. “I’m Gab Kinney—a representative with A-Tech. I’d like to speak with you about maybe sponsoring your son here.”
Axel smiled and looked back at Gab. “Well then come in.”
I stopped him. “I’m sorry... I’d rather you speak with my husband about anything to do with his sponsorship. JAR Racing is the primary sponsor, but I’m sure they would be willing to explore others.”
Van came into the room behind Gab. “Oh.” Gab looked between Van and me. “Is this your husband?”
“No,” I told him. “My husband is Jameson Riley, I’m sure you’ve heard of him.”
Gab looked confused. “No, actually I haven’t.”
He was either lying about knowing Jameson or lying about being a representative with A-Tech, a company that designed titanium engine parts. Surely, being in racing, or at least representing a company that was so heavily involved in USAC, he should know who Jameson Riley was.
Van seemed to sense the same confusion I felt and stepped closer to Axel and Lily standing by the door. Axel had been in enough of these situations with us in the past, and he knew to stay next to Van.
“What’s going on in here?” Jameson asked, peeking his head inside the door. His eyes scanned the room cautiously.
“Daddy!” Axel yelled and ran toward him. Jameson caught him in his arms with a smile, his brow furrowed as he looked over at this Gab guy standing next to me. “Who are you?”
Gab looked nervous and reached out to offer his hand to Jameson. “I’m uh... Gab with... A... Tech.”
They shook hands, and Jameson held on to Axel as he moved closer to me.
Van picked up Lily. I was thankful our other two had already fallen asleep and weren’t running out here to see what was happening.
“Gab, huh... what happened to Wayne?”
“Wayne?”
Jameson handed Axel to me. “Yeah.” He stepped closer to Gab. “A-Tech has been an associate sponsor of my Cup team and sprint car team for the last two years.” He let out a chuckle. “Wayne Matson is their representative who I’ve dealt with. So my question is... who are you, and what are you doing in my hotel room?” Jameson’s voice was hard and demanding.
Van simply stood aside—holding Lily—with a smirk on his face. Van may be the bodyguard for us, but if I would be afraid of anyone in any situation, it would be Jameson, hands-down.
Surely Van had Jameson in size. Hell, he even had Spencer and Jimi in size. What most failed to realize with Jameson was his brash temperament that left you wondering when and how he’d react.
“I don’t know Wayne, but I am a representative with A-Tech. They asked me to see about sponsoring him.” Gab pointed toward Axel.
Jameson simply nodded, his eyes focused on Van’s for a brief moment before he placed his hand on Gab’s back. “Let’s talk outside.”
Gab agreed and looked over to me. “It was nice meeting you, Sway.”
I smiled politely as a chill ran down my spine. I never once told him my name.
Van handed Lily over to me just as I heard Jameson’s voice raise slightly.
“If you know what’s good for you... you’ll walk away right now?” Van warned Gab as I pushed the kids toward the bedroom.
“Mama... who was that man?” Axel asked. His eyes were nervous.
“Nobody, buddy... Daddy will be back in a minute.”
Sure enough, Jameson came back inside not more than two minutes later.
“Hey, buddy,” he whispered toward him, trying not to wake Arie and Casten. “Let’s watch that heat race.”
Two hours later, it was close to midnight and poor Axel had fallen asleep on the couch with Jameson. Lily was on the floor with me as we watched Axel’s race on replay.
As quietly as I could, I took Axel and Lily back into the bedroom with Arie and Casten. Amazingly, they stayed asleep, even when I nearly dropped Axel on top of Lily.
When I made my way back into the living room of the suite, Jameson wasn’t there.
“Jameson?” I whispered and then heard him laugh quietly.
“In here, honey.
Turning around, I saw him lying in the bed already. Smiling like a fool, I was out of my clothes and closing the door all in under a minute. “What happened with that guy?”
His eyes seemed guarded. “How often does that sort of thing happen?”
“You mean random people wanting to sponsor our son?”
“No ...” His hand moved from my hip to touch my cheek, his eyes focused intently on mine. “How often do people get past security in the lobby to your room?”
“Security in the lobby? I wasn’t aware there was any?”
He chuckled softly and let his hand fall from my cheek as he pulled me closer. “There is always security in the lobby of any hotel you or our kids stay at.”
“Oh,”
“This hotel, however... we won’t be staying here again for that reason. He shouldn’t have been up here.”
“Who was he?”
“Van’s going to look into it, but he definitely doesn’t work for A-Tech. I called them, and they’d never heard of him.”
“Jesus,” I panicked. “I let Axel answer the door, thinking it was you!”
He nodded. “We do need to be more careful. Axel is getting a following now, and whether we like it or not, he’s a target. If someone doesn’t like me as a driver, well, they might take it out on him.”
I knew that already. We experienced that when Axel raced in the Western District Qualifier in March. When Axel outran a kid on the track, the kid’s dad took his frustrations by screaming at Axel about Jameson and his temper. It was something all of our kids would be facing having Jameson Riley as their father.
My mood for sex was ruined with the thought that my little spaz children were in danger.
Jameson sighed, the guarded expression returned, and kissed my forehead before pulling back to look at me. “He was looking for you.”
“Why though.”
“We don’t know yet, but Van caught onto it when he only said goodbye to you.”
“Yeah... I never told him my name.”
“That’s not why.” Jameson blinked slowly. “Just like our kids, you’re a target, too. You’re very attractive and in the public eye. They see you, and they see... opportunity.”
He didn’t need to say anymore; I knew what he was insinuating. This wasn’t the first time I’d been cornered by men, even after Darrin. There had been a handful of various men over the years who had come on to me or saw that I was Jameson’s wife and made a move. I didn’t know what it was, but when men found out I was married to Jameson, they tested their luck. Maybe it was for some kind of bragging rights, if I paid interest to them—I don’t know—but it was all part of this lifestyle we had. Paying no mind, I ignored them, and the fact that it was even happening for the simple reason that it didn’t bother me. I knew from the very beginning, when I committed myself to Jameson and his career choice, this was a possibility. To have him, I’d endure anything.
“What’s the air pressure in the right rear?” I asked Tommy, handing him the gauge.
“Jameson, can my son get your autograph?”
Keep your cool, I told myself. I had to say this a lot this morning. All I wanted to do was help get my son’s car ready to go, but the fans here had another idea when they saw me in the pits this morning. I signed autographs, took pictures, talked to reporters... I had done everything this morning but what I came for, which was to see family and to see my son race.
The right rear of Axel’s car kept losing psi as it sat on the grid so Tommy changed it out while I signed yet another autograph.
“Daddy?” Axel called out as the horn sounded for the kids to report to their cars. “Can you push me off?” Tommy usually pushed him off on the starts and re-starts, if needed, but when I was around, I made sure I was the one to do this for him. Another fan approached us and I shook my head. “I’m sorry, not right now. My son is about to start his main event. Catch me after the main, and I’ll sign anything you want.”
The woman who had approached us simply smiled and walked away.
“Of course I will, buddy.” I knelt beside Axel’s car as he adjusted all his straps and pulled his helmet on. “Now remember, stay focused. One car at a time.”
They inverted the field again, since Axel had transferred up through the mains, he was starting fourth. “I will be talking to you through the radio in your ear. I’m just going to tell you when a caution comes out and when it’s green again, okay?”
He nodded; the fear in his eyes was evident. “Do you get nervous?” he asked.
I had to think for a moment, because no, I didn’t really get nervous anymore. There were times when I would say I was anxious to race, but nervous, no. But I knew the feeling, and I remembered when I was his age and even older during the time I traveled around. Sure, I was nervous back then.
“When I was your age... yes,” I finally told him when I saw Lily skipping over. “But you know what my dad told me?”
“What?” I saw what Sway was referring to when she told me Axel hung on my every word. Here he was, holding on to any piece of advice I could offer him in this moment.
“Take one lap at a time, one car at a time.”
Axel smiled up at me and then looked at Lily. His bright green eyes sparkled as she sported a t-shirt that said: Axel Riley’s Fan Club. She then spun around to show him the back had his number, and underneath it said #1 Fan.
“Are you good, buddy?” I finally asked after chuckling at Lily’s enthusiasm.
“Yeah, I’m good, Daddy.” He smiled at me and then Lily again.
I made my way to the infield, standing with the other fathers, all of them giving me the look that said, “We know who you are,” but also telling me, “That’s why your kid places so well—money and Daddy.”
That had absolutely nothing to do with it. Yeah, if Axel destroyed a car, he had another one the next night or week, but that had nothing to do with his talent in the sport. I didn’t care how good your equipment was or how many sponsors you had funding you. In the end, this sport came down to talent and patience. Some might not believe that, but I did.
Look at when I started in USAC on the East Coast. Sure, I had money but my money did nothing for me when I came head-to-head with the fire-breathing beasts from the East. Talent got me where I was today, and talent had gotten Axel where he was, currently in first place with one lap to go.
He’d been battling hard, swapping the lead with a kid named Shane Jennings, when Shane’s front right tire caught Axel’s left rear. Axel wobbled slightly while Shane smashed into the tire barriers, leaving Axel to take the win.
I had seen him win before, but the Battle at the Brickyard would be comparable to me winning the Daytona 500—something I had yet to do.
His fan club was jumping up and down, my mom included. Sway was crying, which was nothing new. When it came to our children, she was a little basket case.
When the cars pulled off the track Axel came back around to be presented the trophy.
“Is Shane okay?” was his first question.
“Yeah, buddy, he’s fine. See, he’s right there.” I pointed to Shane, who gave Axel a thumbs-up and walked back to his car with his dad.
The next thing he asked, “Are you proud of me?”
I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why he always asked this. “What would ever make you think I wasn’t proud of you?” I asked, hugging him once he untangled himself from his belts.
He seemed to contemplate this for a moment, not immediately answering. When he did his voice was small and quiet. “You and Grandpa... you are... legends.” He shrugged as his eyes fell. “I just wanna make you proud of me. I wanna be like you.” He avoided my eyes, looking at his shoes.
Placing my hand gently under his chin, I forced him to look me in the eye. “You are, buddy. Everything about you is just like me. I don’t know if you should be proud or worried.” We both chuckled and before we could have any longer in our father-son moment, the announcer was wanting to interview him.
“Did you have a good time?” he asked Axel, who stood strong beside me.
“Yep.”
“Did your dad give you any advice here?” He motioned to me.
Axel looked up at me and winked. “Yep. He told me, be patient.”
“Well, considering your dad is a NASCAR Cup series champion... you should listen to him, huh?”
“I did.”
“Yes, you did, because this monster trophy is bigger than you!” He handed Axel the trophy that was no doubt bigger than my pint-sized son. “Ladies and gentlemen …” The crowd whistled and screamed, most of which came from our family. “The winner of the Junior Animal 120-class... Axel Riley!”
My dad was right when he told me nothing compares to seeing your kid’s dreams come true. I just hoped that this was his dream and not something he felt he had to live up to like some unspoken expectation. Knowing he wanted to race was comforting. I never forced him to do this, but in the back of my mind I wondered if all that pressure I put upon myself to be great somehow imparted him to do the same.
Either way, I needed to be careful of the yellow lines. They blurred so easily when it came to parenting. It was easy to let yourself push your dreams, but the line needed to be drawn. They were their own people and they had every right to live their dreams and not yours.
Before we left that night, I found that woman I turned down the autograph for and made sure she got the autograph she was looking for. To me, that was me showing my appreciation for her respecting my privacy.