“Well, young man, the biggest race of the year and you have a 40-point lead. Finish sixth or better and you‘re the series champion. Do you play it conservative, play it safe?”
Jimmy looked up at the enormous crowd, and he smiled.
“What do you folks think?” he asked. “Did you buy a ticket to watch somebody run sixth?”
The crowd cheered mightily, and Jimmy turned to the announcer. “Sounds like we better go for the win,” he said.
The man laughed. “It‘s been quite a season, Jimmy. Any thoughts before this final race?”
“Well, thanks to Gregg Richards for giving me this chance,” Jimmy said. “And Mike Stapleton, Jack Harvey, and Slim MacDonald. And we have a new sponsor today, Young Chevrolet. Go see Sam for your new Chevy and he‘ll take care of you. Everybody has been great this season. The best thing we can do is win the race and close out the season strong. That‘s what we‘re here for.”
Jimmy walked to his car and double-checked his helmet. His nervous tension had his mind at top speed, thinking through different scenarios and stages of the race. He was thinking about what had happened to Duke during qualifying; Jimmy just didn‘t want to make any dumb mistakes. That was really on his mind.
Driver introductions began, and when Jimmy was introduced he waved and climbed into the car. He took a couple of long drinks of water, handing the jug back to Renee. She leaned in to give him a kiss.
“Good luck,” she said, reaching up to touch his cheek. “I‘ll see you in victory lane!”
Jimmy nodded, and realized Gregg also wanted a word. As he leaned close Jimmy could see that Gregg was struggling with his emotions.
“It‘s been a great year,” Gregg said, shaking Jimmy‘s hand. “No matter how it ends up, I‘m proud of our season. Good luck, Jimmy. Just bring ‘er home in one piece, that‘s all I ask.”
Jimmy buckled down, pulling his shoulder straps tight. He prepared to tug his helmet into place, and Harvey leaned in for some last-minute coaching.
“Relax,” Harvey said. “Just find a good rhythm, and let the race come to you. Don‘t worry about the guys up front, they‘ll use each other up. Just be there at the end and good things will happen. And save those tires.”
Jimmy nodded and slipped his helmet on. In a few moments he was sitting quietly, visor up, and he saw Mike roll the starter cart in place at the front of the car. He heard the rattle of the rod as it slid into place, and Mike looked up to make eye contact. Jimmy nodded, and Mike gave him a thumbs-up sign.
At the stage on the front straightaway a throng of people surrounded a raised dais, where the governor of the state of Indiana was introduced. He clutched a microphone and his words echoed across the fairgrounds.
“Gentlemen…start your ennngggiiinnneeesss!”
Mike spun the starter. Jimmy watched as the red needle in the oil pressure gauge jumped, and he flicked the ignition switch. The engine roared to life.
Gregg stood next to the car, his right arm lifted to indicate they were fired. Jimmy gently prodded the engine, hearing it rise and fall in pitch. People scurried across the grid, guys pulling starter carts or carrying the starter motor, quickly wrapping the battery cables as they moved.
Row four began to roll away, and Jimmy revved the engine, his hand engaging the clutch. The crew hurried to push the car forward, and Jimmy kept the RPMs up as he engaged, the engine groaning as it struggled to get on top of the tall rear-end gear. The engine chugged a couple of times before Jimmy felt it recover and they rolled freely down the front straightaway.
They were away.