The Legend

by Shey Stahl

  She made it to the door before she turned to look back at me, tears threatening. “I assure you there’s nothing going on between me and Grady. He made sure of that.”

  My stomach dropped at her words. The lingering glances Grady had given her along with her shy smiles over the weeks confirmed what I hated to even think about and wouldn’t let myself.

  Tommy stuck his head inside when Arie left. “Hey man, we need your help out here.”

  The rest of the night we finished up with the engine and had everything loaded by midnight. Sway was waiting up for me when I got home. No conversation was had; instead, it was lingering touches and heated breaths. It was days like this when I remember what was important and what wasn’t worth the fight. It was where the revolving door closed for the night and the going seemed slow to the breathing in and out, the taking time to ensure that time was spent taking care of what needed to be.

  Just like any scheduled race, there’s a drivers meeting to go over rules and regulations. Then there’s a team meeting followed by the driver introductions. This time with my wife was like introductions. It was a time where two heats that beat for one another spoke to what didn’t need to be said.

  I had a lot on my mind that night but in her arms, skin to skin, none of that mattered.

  13. Lights Out – Axel

  Lights Out – The lights go out when the starter is ready to display a green flag.

  After our honeymoon in Hawaii, it was back to real life and time for racing once again. Personally, I was looking forward to it. I enjoyed the time with Lily but I was ready to get back in the car.

  This year all the talk was about Frost Nationals in Knoxville in just a week. I could hardly focus on anything but that once we returned. That was until Lily pulled me aside the night before we left for Iowa.

  She sat there in front of me, chewing on her lip as though she was scared.

  I kissed along her tanned skin hoping this might ease any troubling thoughts she had but still, her mood didn’t change.

  Lily had something to say, I just knew it but she seemed...confused?

  Standing over her, I moved my legs in between hers. “Lil, what’s going on with you?” My hands rested on the back on the couch trapping her.

  “I uh...need to talk to you.” She looked up at me.

  “Okay,” sitting down next to her, I pulled her across the couch wrapping my arms around her. “What’s up?”

  Another few minutes of silence, she sighed and closed her eyes. Her long lashes seemed to flutter for a second before opening. “I’m pregnant.”

  I didn’t say anything for close to five minutes. This was not what I was expecting to hear. I was thinking something along the lines of, “Let’s get a bigger house,” or “Can I get a new car?” Not, “I’m pregnant.”

  “Wow, that wasn’t what I was expecting you to say.” I finally said breaking the uncomfortable silence hanging between us.

  “Oh,” her face fell slightly at my confession, her eyes dropping from mine.

  “I didn’t mean it like that Lil...I’m just surprised.”

  She nodded; her eyes glassy with threatening tears. “Are you happy?”

  “How could I not be?” I reached for her, my arms wrapping around her tiny shoulders. “I love you Lil.”

  I wasn’t exactly sure what to think about her being pregnant. I wasn’t mad, no, that wasn’t it but I also wasn’t as excited as I hoped I’d be. Was that a bad thing? Wasn’t I supposed to be happy?

  I wanted kids, eventually, but right now just didn’t seem like the time. I would be starting my second-season that year and wanted that championship. I was afraid my focus wouldn’t be there now.

  Lily wasn’t coming with us to Knoxville. She was staying with her mom for the week since she had just had surgery on her back.

  I guess now would be my time to adjust to everything.

  The morning we left, everyone met at the shop and we decided who was coming and who had other plans. We ended up taking a variety of crew members and a few guys from CST Engines.

  Lane, Cole and Logan were flying out with me and Tommy. Everyone else was already there including my dad. Casten decided to stay home that weekend with the girls, something about a date with a girl but I later found out he was grounded again.

  Racing in the winter generally wasn’t done anywhere other than Tulsa for the Chili Bowl, Irwindale for Turkey night or Australia. Usually, it was too damn cold usually.

  But this year Knoxville Raceway was doing an event called Frost Nationals which was a three day event to kick off Speedweeks before Daytona and the opening of the World of Outlaws in Barberville. Each night would have main events. From a driver’s point of view, this was ideal.

  The next night, it started all over. That was ideal because it didn’t matter if you fucked up and got a bad spot on Wednesday. On Thursday, it was a clean slate so to speak.

  No points, just money; a million dollars to be exact. None of us did it for the money though, we all just wanted to race. The joke was, since my dad was going, “Million Dollar Maybe” they called him, would win it. They called him that because anytime someone asked him if he would win, he said maybe. Anytime he said maybe, he won.

  Dad was of course set to race along with Justin, Cody, Rager and Tyler. It would be a stacked field for sure.

  I didn’t know grandpa was racing until we were standing outside the registration booth.

  “Holy shit dude!” Shane reached for the entry list, his eyes wide. “Jimi’s racing tonight?”

  Huh?

  I ripped the sheet from his hands and looked back at my dad who was signing the waver. “Did you know about this?”

  He smirked handing the clipboard toward Justin on the other side of him. “Who do you think got his car ready?”

  It wasn’t that I didn’t want grandpa racing. I wanted to race against the best but he wasn’t exactly in the best shape these days. At sixty-five, he was getting old; not that he was the oldest guy to race sprint cars these days.

  Bucky Miers after ten years in retirement climbed in a USAC Silver Crown car last year to prove a point he still had it in him and he was seventy-six.

  Age never mattered in racing but physical condition did. With a hip surgery, a recent heart valve replacement and more concussions than any brain needed, his physical condition wasn’t great.

  “Does grandma know your old ass it racing?” Lane asked nudging grandpa in the ribs as he pulled his racing suit over his broad shoulders getting ready for hot laps.

  “Boy,” he drawled out slowly with a smirk I hadn’t seen in a while, “your grandma would never question why I wanted to get back in the car.”

  “She doesn’t get scared?” I asked standing next to them, my dad followed behind me.

  “Women that marry racers love them for who they are and never question why they get behind the wheel. And when it all falls apart, they are right there, putting the pieces together again.”

  I didn’t like the way he said “falls apart”. Even dad, who stood next to him, glanced up when he said that and then walked away shaking his head.

  Lane laughed and walked toward Cole and Logan who were trying to wrestle my dad to the ground when I blurted out the first thing on my mind.

  “Lily’s pregnant.” I don’t know why I said it right then, it just came out. Maybe because I was scared and I thought if I told someone maybe I wouldn’t feel so scared.

  “No shit?” Grandpa said nodding his head in approval.

  “Uh-huh.” I gave him this half smile, half scared shitless look that made him chuckle.

  “You excited?”

  “I guess so.” There wasn’t much I could say about it. She didn’t even know how far along she was just that she had a positive test and we would be parents in nine months or so. That literally scared the shit out of me.

  “Didn’t take you long,” He laughed leaning against the hauler behind him crossing his feet over one another when Tommy walked up.


  “Didn’t take long for what?”

  “Axel knocked his wife up.” Grandpa blurted out to my complete horror.

  “Grandpa,” I looked at him with wide eyes, “I told you that in privacy!”

  “Well shit kid...” he nudged my shoulder nearly knocking me over. “You should have said that to begin with.”

  Right

  Tommy jetted off, to tell the entire pits I assume leaving us along again. “Sorry kid.”

  “Ah...don’t worry about it.” I shrugged it off and looked over at my dad who was laughing at something Justin had just said.

  “Have you ever second guessed yourself?” Grandpa asked leaning against the hauler again, his eyes focused on my dad now signing autographs off in the distance.

  I thought for a moment, watching dad, and then looked up at him. “At times,” I couldn’t lie, anytime I pulled myself inside the car, I questioned whether or not I could do it.

  “Your dad doesn’t, ever. Even when he was young; I think around eleven when he first ran a full size sprint, he was as confident as he’s always been.”

  He was right. My dad had more confidence in his ability than anyone I’d ever seen. His combination of speed, grace and poised aggression mixed in with all-out ease on the track, put him in a class by himself, no one could touch him. Not even Jimi Riley—the King of the Outlaws—had nothing on him.

  Not many racers, okay none, could shift focus from each different series and still be competitive like he can. He could race a truck race, move to a Nationwide car the next day, a cup car the following and then hop inside a sprint car and pull away with a victory in all four in the same weekend. I’ve seen him do it countless times like it was nothing. His trick was to feel the car and feel the track. He claimed it had nothing to do with him, he was just steering. It was bullshit but he was being humble.

  I had never seen another driver be able to feel grip the way he does. It took me years to really understand his talent and even longer to realize I had the same.

  “I’ve never seen another driver like him before...” Grandpa paused and smiled, “Until you.”

  “What about you?”

  “Like I said...I’ve never seen a driver like him before. I can’t do what he does.” He waved his arm around. “Sure, I can push a sprint car to its limits but look at him. He’s got it all. Stock cars are an entirely different mentality and he can do without hesitation. He’s legendary.”

  We watched as dad joked around with Justin and Tyler while more fans crowded around them.

  “Don’t live too fast kid.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “Before you know it, you’re heading toward seventy and wondering where the hell all the time went.”

  I knew the feeling. It felt like just yesterday I was racing USAC and now here I am racing with my dad and grandpa and apparently going to be a dad soon.

  Thinking of that again made me think of Lily so I sent her a text.

  Thinking of you. Just wanted to say I love you.

  She replied instantly. I love you too. Good luck tonight.

  I sat there in the back of the hauler watching the fans linger through the pits looking for autographs and examining the sprint cars. Most would stick their heads in, take pictures and occasionally ask for an autograph, while others just wandered around taking in everything.

  Lane strolled past at one point. “Do you think this fog will clear up?”

  “I don’t know.” I said looking out at the track. “I’m not sure we can get the race in if it doesn’t.”

  The night felt strange to me. A low cloud cover had come in, a thick layer of fog had settled in turn two. We’d never raced in the winter here; usually the ground was too frozen to do so.

  Tonight was different though, could have been the temperature of the whopping 39º. Maybe that’s why everything felt strange to me.

  The moon was full and shined through the fog with silver streaks of light that hovered. A thick ring formed reflecting the light.

  “What are you looking at?” Tommy asked as the gravel crunched beneath his feet.

  “Nothing,” I looked over at him sighing to myself. I didn’t get up though. Instead I stayed there sitting on the loading ramp.

  “Crazy kid,” Tommy smiled. “Let’s go. You got a race to win and I got a hundred bucks ridin’ on it.”

  Heat laps were done and now it was time, for the first time in years, to roll onto a track with the legends of our time.

  14. Attrition – Axel

  Attrition – The rate at which cars drop out of a race. This is due to mechanical failures or crashes.

  Hopping on the back of the 4-wheeler, Tommy drove us over to the driver introductions were they introduced each of us one by one and then had us do a quick interview. Dads’ was the most comical and even got a standing ovation from the crowd as did grandpa.

  “It’s anyone’s race.” Dad said to the announcer with a smirk directed at the other drivers.

  Dad smoked us in hot laps. He clearly had the cold temperatures pegged and Justin wasn’t far behind him.

  The trick with the cooler temperatures was the tire pressure. The colder the air, the more horsepower you create but the car reacts entirely different in the cold resulting in lower tire pressures.

  Tires may seem tough when you think about it but they are extremely sensitive, especially in colder temperatures. Not only that, but Knoxville is notorious for shredding tires with its high speeds. The faster the car goes, the more pressure put upon the tires. More grip of course but also more pressure. The more pressure the more damage to the tire that is acting like a spring.

  Since tires are bias-constructed, air pressure determines the majority of the spring rate within a tire. Tires, on a night like tonight, were just as important as the setup.

  Tommy and Willie were all over it for me. That was one of the vast differences between me and my dad. Where I relied on Tommy to change my setups based on my feedback, dad changed it himself. He knew sprint car setups better than he understood Cup cars.

  Racing with my dad, my Grandpa and some of the guys that helped me along the way was enough to send me into some sort of hysteria but I held my own, no tears fell that I like to say but I’d probably be lying.

  I was up front with my dad, Grandpa and Justin on the front row of the four abreast with Cody and my buddies Shane and Easton behind us.

  Dad revved forward, taunting me as he paraded around 4-wide. I did the same when the flagman motioned for us to do hot-laps.

  The race itself was a wash really. You had guys like Justin and Tyler who dominated the early part of the 100-lap feature they split into two segments and then you had my dad and grandpa who were dominating the final fifty. I wasn’t in the mix during the second half, just hung back in the seventh for most of the race.

  The track was shredding tires like a road grater. I couldn’t keep my right rear from sliding all over the place. Dad and grandpa seemed to have no problems with it and flew around the half-mile track like it was no problem.

  That was until lap fourteen of the second-segment, a lap I would never forget. It was a lap that changed everything.

  They were running one and two with dad leading and grandpa right behind him. I had a clear view in front of me as I made it up to fifth and got around Easton.

  Without warning, grandpa shot to the high side in the sweeping corner of one and two and then bounced off the wall coming out of two onto the straight stretch. He cut down right in front of dad.

  It wasn’t something grandpa would have done ordinarily. He wouldn’t make that move, on someone on the outside, at a place like Knoxville. But he did, and we watched in horror as the wall bit back hard with dad on this inside of him, taking them both out.

  It all happened in a split second. Before I could see what went wrong or what was happening through the dust, sprint cars were flipping and metal was everywhere. The flashing tree of red lights on the wall only confirmed my theories.

  They stopped us where we wer
e. Tow trucks and ambulances blocked our view and I knew it was on purpose. Any time an accident happened of this nature, the safety crews, sensing the destruction, blocked the view of the drivers and spectators by design.

  There is an eerie feeling that comes over a track when tragedy strikes. Even before any news release happens, drivers feel it in their bones. If you’ve been around racing long enough, you know when a wreck is fatal, you just do.

  When the pace car brought us down past the wreck in turn two, I knew something wasn’t right just looking at it.

  Grandpa’s car was up against the wall, the top wing was laying some twenty feet away. Another car, a driver out of Australia was smashed against him pinning the car to the wall.

  Dad’s car was upside down on the outside barrier, the rear axle assembly was broken off and lying on the other side of the wall in the grass field. Cars and parts were scattered everywhere.

  Justin stopped his car alongside them, ignoring the safety crews trying to push him back away. He knocked one to the ground, ripping his gear away to get loose. Tommy, Willie, Spencer and Aiden who were in the pit grandstands, were already down on the track hovered around their cars; motioning toward the safety crew for help.

  I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t speak. They had us start the cars and move forward to give the ambulances better access.

  My hands were trembling so violently when I passed by the carnage, the wheel was jerking from side to side in my hands. I could feel the adrenaline radiating throughout my body, surging in my joints, hot and blinding all at once. I felt like I was going to vomit any second.

  I blinked, steadily trying to focus enough to catch a glimpse of the two of them, but they were still inside the cars with safety official’s frantically working around them. I had no idea if they were injured or not at this point, but the eerie feelings wasn’t helping me and the way everyone was screaming around them, with no movement from my dad or grandpa, wasn’t reassuring.

  Grandpa didn’t hit hard peruse, it was just the way he hit the wall that was disturbing and the way dad’s car was pushed against the wall wasn’t comforting to me. I knew something horrible had happened.