Page 89 of Black Flag

Jameson hadn’t lostthat spark of defiance that made him Rowdy Riley; the embodiment of relaxed andaloofness. His eyes gave him away though.

There was a thin lineof what is and isn’t. Jameson understood that well in this sport and building awall around him was the only way he knew how.

Sure, some wanted tounderstand him, but others only wanted to destroy.

His gaze was long andhard, and even though I wanted to look away, I couldn’t as I was only focusedon this boy fighting for his name in the record books.

The questions shiftedback to Jameson saying this was personal.

“So when you shoved thereporter that was personal? Or when you revved your car attempting to hit the official,was that personal too?”

Jameson’s expressionshowed his frustration. “You’re twisting this. I was merely making astatement.” He responded refusing to make eye contact with them.

“Thank god this isalmost over.” Alley sighed looking over at Jameson as he shook his head againhiding behind the grass green I knew was raging inside.

Once we were backinside the motor coach getting ready to leave for Mooresville, Jameson staredat the wall regarding the TV but believing nothing they said as he listened toSPEED news.

And though they hadtheir own theories on his behavior lately, there was one aspect of this theynever considered. Jameson would fight them on it until he had nothing left justto prove his point. He would never stop. Not when he believed in his side ofthe story. He was like a fire in the rain, refusing to go out.

Jimi saw it, staring athis son now. I’m not sure why but Jameson always felt the need to carry theburden of the team on his shoulders.

When we left, theofficial was waiting to apologize to Jameson but then again, you only got onechance with Jameson.

If you blew it, youbetter beg because that was your only hope.

“I wasn’t trying toruin your night. But your crew needs to be more careful about those hoses. That’sthe second time this year I got smacked with one.”

“Then move out of theway.” Jameson replied tossing his bags inside the Expedition that was set totake us to the airport.

I stood beside himwatching their interaction wishing I wasn’t alone with him. But I think that’sthe only reason why the official decided to try and make amends with him. If hewas around his crew it might not be so easy.

The official seemed toknow he was crossing lines when Jameson stepped toward him. “You don’t know howyour calls can ruin this for us. If you’re having a bad night and take it outon us, we suffer, not you. We got fined fifteen thousand this weekend for thatshit on pit road.”

“Like I said, I wasjust upset.”

Jameson’s smile wasbitter, his jaw clenched as he ripped his eyes from the official. “You wereupset.” He repeated spitting the words. “You fucking son of a bitch!” hisknuckles connected with the side of the Expedition, his anger flaring waitingto destroy everything he was working so hard for this season.

The official held hishands up. “I don’t want no beef with you and your team Riley.”

This guy really wasn’tgetting anywhere with this.

“Let’s just go.” Iinterrupted pushing Jameson toward the front door of the car. “I think weshould go. And you, Duane, should leave before you make this worse.”

Thankfully Duane, theofficial, listened to me and I got Jameson inside the car before he smacked theofficial.

I can’t say it wasright of him to act this way but I would never try to fix him. I fell in love withall sides so it’s all the same. The fury of his anger was festering and I had afeeling this sport was about to see just how rowdy he could get.

The media mercilesslyexaggerated his faults to the point where the public had this image that wasn’teven close to the man behind the wheel. Harboring weakness and displaying hisviolent temper tantrums was their goal and Jameson knew that.

Instead, he was closedoff and his regard for them was pure aggravation.

In many ways, Jamesonwas a victim being destroyed by the very people who worshiped him.

11.EngineBlock – Sway

Engine Block – An ironcasting that envelopes the camshaft, connecting rods and pistons.

“What are you doing?”

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