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GLEANINGS FROM THE GROVE
figure of my father, I drove around the track mock race. They all thought I could handle it
slowly—I would have called it no more than and that this would test my mettle as a future
tootling. No distractions, no other drivers, just driver. Me, a racer? What kid my age would
me, the wind whipping by (at 15mph) and my turn that opportunity down? It really did not
face still in an ever-widening grin. To me, this matter that I had no more than ten minutes of
was easy, and this was 100% FUN. No pressure, theory, safety rules, and five minutes of driving
right? I could see in the months to come that practice. I WAS READY!!!!
I would be a good—no scratch that—a great There we three were. I sadly do not
driver with a shelf (or two) remember what color my car was. We were
full of trophies, medals, lined up on the starting line. The flagman stood
and ribbons. Such there, ready to drop the flag (no light system
the stuff dreams are then) while my ever-nervous father sat dazed
made of! in the stands. Down went the flag! We were off!
That engine sound, the smells, the
adrenaline coursing through my
veins, and now a contest for first place
all made me concentrate harder
and get a genuine feel for my
machine. That is when I
discovered two realities
of being a race car driver.
Number one to win, you
have to be the fastest, and
number two—win at any
cost. I made the first loop of
the figure eight in second
place, found the gas pedal
and could smell victory.
That is when number two
came into play. Here I was,
Remember that I said my dad’s face had not even classed as a novice but ahead of the
that look of horror and “no” on it? I got to see it third driver who decided he wanted to win, and
again after my test lap as the man told me the to do so, he would have to overtake little ole me.
officials needed to test a couple of novices in a He must have watched Ben-Hur a time or two as
34 ONE COMMUNITY
