Page 83 of The Player Penalty
Pete says, “Loose tire.” The hell? We’ve been driving great cars the entire season, and now this short track trashes them both.
“24 is two laps ahead.” My spotter pauses and then starts up again. “Passing on your left.”
“Is he alone?”
“No. Jake’s squeezing between the 9 and 19.”
“What’s his position?”
“Hold on. Hold on.” I dutifully hold. “He’s in front of the 9, passing on the bottom.”
It’s impressive for this track. There have been remarkably few trading spaces in this race so far.
“We’re down to the final few laps here, but does anyone else believe they added an extra hundred to the total lap count at some point?” I ask.
“The race that won’t end,” Steve says.
My spotter says, “Two laps. The 24 pulling up on your right.”
I slide down the track to give him some room. If Jake Knowles can snag a win, who am I to stop him? “That’s the 19 on his right,” I say. “They still running together?”
“Final lap,” he says.
“Where’s Jake?” I ask.
“You’re right. Coming. Coming.”
He pops into my rearview with the 19 by his side. I can’t pass, and I’m at the rear of the pack.
“Bring it home, Jake.” I push the throttle, bump him forward, and spin into the grass. “Well, that’s it then. Steve, thank the 33 team for me, will you?”
That was a snoozer of a race.
I undo my harness and slid through the window.
∞∞∞
It doesn’t take long for this week’s car to get loaded back into the hauler.
“We’ll take it apart in the garage tomorrow,” Pete says to Boone and me. The three of us watched it, and Boone’s car, get loaded into their respective trucks, largely in silence. “Both of them.
“If there’s something wrong, it’s better to know before Charlotte,” Boone adds.
Charlotte means new cars and fresh wraps for both of us, but surprise issues need to be addressed first.
“I’ll be in early while they do.” They’re nothing else for me to add. Engineering can look at their data; all I can do is provide my perspective.
The hauler’s door is closed and secured.
The stands are empty, and the lot isn’t far behind as trucks clear out to make their way home.
The best part of this race is its location because it means sleeping in my own bed tonight.
“You did good tonight,” Boone says quietly. “That was a good push there at the end.”
A compliment? “Timing and track position were in my favor.”
“We manufacture for him,” Boone says. I get it; Jake’s win reflects well on us, even if it’s his team.
