“36.820,” he shouted, conveying Duke‘s time. Jimmy nodded his head.
The car ahead of him soon took off, and Mike leaned down at the front of the car and inserted the starter shaft. He connected the electric starter and looked at Jimmy, who nodded to acknowledge that he was ready. Jimmy watched the official standing in front of the car, and soon the official gave a twirling motion with his hand.
The starter whirred, and the engine roared to life. Mike hurried to pull the starter cart out of the way and joined the other guys at the back of the car, and when the official pointed at Jimmy they began pushing the car forward.
Jimmy revved the engine and engaged the clutch, and the engine chugged for a moment before prodding the car up to speed.
Jimmy loved these miles, and he loved the Champ Dirt cars. Long and graceful, the cars were very different than sprint cars. It took patience, and smarts, and a good dose of stamina to do well here. It was always stinking hot and a traditional 100-mile grind took the starch out of even the strongest man.
The engine sang a beautiful song as he screamed down the back straightaway, and Jimmy eased the car to the rail as they entered the corner.
“Here‘s a popular home-state boy on the move,” said the PA announcer, his voice echoing under the big covered grandstand. “From Greensburg, Illinois, driving the Premier Tires of Allentown Special, he‘s your USAC Champ Dirt points leader … Jimmy Wilson!”
The car worked perfectly through the corner, and Harvey‘s new combination sizzled. Jimmy passed the starter‘s stand to complete his first lap.
“Say, how about this!” the announcer said suddenly, his voice rising. “We‘ve got a new fast qualifier! Jimmy Wilson, with a time of 36, seven-zero-five! That‘s fast time! He has bumped Duke Moran to second place!”
Jimmy‘s second lap was off just a tick, and he slowed and turned into the pit opening. He felt like the first lap was a decent one, but other than that he couldn‘t be sure. But as he approached his pit he noticed the guys all pumping their fists with excitement.
“Quick time!” Mike shouted as Jimmy pulled his helmet off. “What about it, man! You beat Duke‘s time! You beat Duke‘s time!”
Jimmy grinned, almost in disbelief. Duke‘s run of dominance had been so complete that he was fast qualifier at every race last season. Every race.
There was a genuine buzz surrounding their pit, and throughout the place. For somebody to beat Duke — even if it was just qualifying — it was bona fide news. Jimmy greeted lots of well-wishers as he and the guys tried to focus on the race to come.
Harvey and Slim and Mike went over the car once again. Slim poured fuel into the big tank and Mike hammered the wheels tight, one more time. Harvey had the hood off, carefully checking the throttle linkage and fuel lines. Harvey checked the tires one final time as the cars were called to the front straightaway for driver introductions.
They rolled the car in place on the pole, and Renee stood with Jimmy as they waited for things to get going. A few moments later the Maverick machine came rolling up, with Duke Moran waving to well-wishers in the crowd as they called out his name.
“Nice lap,” Duke smiled at Jimmy. He stepped over to the Premier Tires car and made a big deal of looking at it carefully.
“What are you looking for?” Jimmy grinned.
“Your nitrous,” Duke said. “Must be on here someplace.”
Jimmy laughed. “We can‘t afford it. Might think about it, though. Good suggestion.”
Duke walked up to Renee and turned on the charm. “Hello, young lady. Are you actually hanging out with this boy here?”
“I am,” she said, sending the charm right back. “Renee Johnson is my name. We‘ve actually met before, Duke.”
Duke looked puzzled, and stared. “We have? I don‘t recall.”