Page 71 of Black Flag

He smiled, blue eyesamused under his black hat. With his orange curls looping out just likeJameson’s usually did, he looked like a damn Halloween costume. “Yeah, okay. Iwill if you can keep your legs closed for one night.”

Jameson was quickerthan I was and backhanded Tommy upside the head without saying anything as theyscrambled to make a few adjustments on the cars. All three sprint cars werelined up outside the hauler caked in clay.

Tommy was distractedafter that leaving Ami and I to add tear-offs to the helmets, something Ialways enjoyed doing for Jameson.

“It’s racy tonight.”Justin waggled his eyebrows at Jameson as they pulled the racing suits backover their shoulders.

“Ah-yeah,” Jamesonreplied with a southern draw I didn’t know he had. “Best of luck to you two.”

The taunting was on.They were all friends inside the pits. On the track, no one was friends.

Jameson smiled when thehorn sounded twice letting us know it was time for the drivers to line up forthe A-Feature.

All this; the sounds,the sights, the laughter among the boys; it was like reliving all those summerraces together one bullhorn at a time.

Tommy made a fewfrantic adjustments to Tyler’s car before he pounded on the wing letting himknow he was ready. They pushed the cars into line for the trucks to lead themto the track to be pushed off.

Tommy controlled allthe set-ups of both Jameson’s sprint cars as well as the one he had for himselfon occasions like this. Tommy Davis was a sought after guy at the dirt tracks.Not only did he have a degree in engineering, he knew sprint cars better thanmost seasoned vets. Jameson had confidence in him and without Tommy; JAR Racingwouldn’t be what it was.

This team, Tommy,Justin, and Tyler, was essentially his buddies growing up. Tommy of course wentto high school with us. And he met Justin and Tyler back when he raced for USAC(United States Auto Club), a division that has three premier divisions ofmidgets, sprint cars and silver crown sprint cars.

When Jameson startedracing Busch and then eventually in the Winston Cup series, he couldn’t let goof his dirt side. So to keep with that, he started JAR Racing in 2002 andteamed up with Simplex, Ayers Manufacturing, andPowerPlusPerformance, to field two cars in the World of Outlaw series, the premierdivision for winged sprint car racing in the United States.

For being into theirfirst year, Justin was running fifth in the points with Tyler running ninth.The best part was they were all having fun.

And though Jimi wouldnever tell you, he kept it going for Jameson. With all the obligations on thecup side, Jameson didn’t have time to take care of everything when the outlawsraced twice or sometimes three times a week. Jimi made sure things were doneright. He knew how much it meant to Jameson.

Tommy, Ami and I madeour way back to the pit bleachers to watch the feature.

The lights of the trackburst on at the setting sun highlighting the fire breathing sprint cars on thetrack. The top wings, all shinny and polished, glistened as they passed by thefront-stretch. Greasy food, beer, methanol, warm rubber, sunscreen, fresh grassall outweighed the paper mill smell, thank god. Inhaling deeply, I was remindedof everything I loved about this place on a Friday night at the local dirttrack and the catchy nicknames it brought with it.

They announced thedrivers and their catchy nicknames they had most of their careers. Justin Westwas, “Wicked West” and pull off some of the wickedest slide jobs you ever saw.Tyler Sprague was “The Sleeper” and waited until the last moment to make hismove. Jameson, well he carried his from NASCAR, “Rowdy Riley” and watching himrace dirt, the name did him justice.

The cars circled,thunderous and defined, the cellophane tear-offs stuck to the chain-link fence.Each with a loud pop as the lifted in the turns and then the sharp growl asthey feathered through the high banked turns. The dust cloud swirled breakingjust above the tree line before dissipating into the night’s air.

The green flag wavedand it was all we could do to see the cars with the wave of dirt that blewtoward us.

About ten laps into the40-lap main, most were hugging the bottom where Jameson and Tyler were ridingthe cushion of caution up top. The cars were sticking and would be considereddry-slick with a black layer of rubber laid down.

Tyler grabbed a newline on the inside near lap seventeen, Jameson kept with his line up top andmanaged to knock off a few cars and hold on to third for a while.

Jameson still had itand could hang with the guys like he never left dirt. Coming back to dirt, mostthought, why would you risk it with the deal you have going with Simplex andNASCAR? Sure, Jameson had a sponsorship with Simplex that prohibited him fromdoing activities that could hurt him. But the thing was,dirt racing was how Jameson relaxed. Simplex knew that. In turn, they respectedhis decisions and trusted him to be careful.

Honestly, I think heraced dirt again just to prove he still could. I mean sure, there was therelaxation part but he never got away from dirt for too long as it was hisroots and he needed to know for himself that it still was. It was almost as ifthis was his reality check.

The dirt had layeredhovering over the track. As each car whipped past, the wind circled the cloudcreating a vortex sucking the cars to the clay. Justin had a good three car gapon the rest of the field of twenty cars with twenty to go and pretty muchchecked out after that, no one could catch him.

Before we knew it, the40-lap feature was done with no cautions.

Though Jameson finishedthird behind Justin and a local kid named Danny Utley, he was all smiles whenhe pulled himself from the car.

It was moments likethis, surrounded by our inner circle of family and friends, where the man whodominated on the track let his guard down. In turn, we saw the twenty-threeyear old kid that he was. Gone was the man who challenged everyone whoquestioned his skill and who told him he couldn’t do it. Present was the magicbehind the wheel, Jameson Riley. Vulnerable but extremely relentless, mostforgot he was a kid living his dream within the shadows of the greatness Jimicreated in the world of racing.

I’m not sure anyonewould ever see him in the light I saw him in; for who he really was. But thenagain, would they understand such a complex man full of adrenaline and desirelike he was?

I don’t think theycould.

“You want a beer man?”Justin opened the cooler once everyone was back at the hauler. He held histrophy close petting it as he handed Jameson the beer.

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