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Two Steps Forward. . .and a Step Back
8/8/06
As you may or may not be aware, dear reader, my publishing company, Racing Net Source, is in the process of launching a couple of new car magazines. We just put up the first issue of Mopar Max Magazine (www.MoparMax.com), which was packaged by this magazine’s former Nostalgia Editor, Mopar freak and now editor of Mopar Max, Mike Bumbeck. As I write this we are putting the finishing touches on this month’s DRO, which goes live today, and in just a week, on Aug. 15, we’ll hit the send button for the premiere issue of Max Chevy Magazine (www.MaxChevy.com), which old friend and former editor of Super Chevy magazine, Terry Cole, is editing.
As a consequence, the old Burkster has been on the chip for the last month, with his weight and blood pressure numbers reading about the same. (Since the Burkster tips the scales at over 250 lbs, that isn’t a good thing.) I was stressed, and after kicking the office door, trash cans, and candy machine, and abusing the crap out of some poor political pollster on the phone, I knew I just needed to take a couple of days off from the publishing and racing world. I shut my cell phone off last Friday afternoon, blocked both the Speed Channel and ESPN2 on the cable and disconnected the Internet connection to my home computer.
Things took a turn for the better instantly. I walked into my local grocery store and found that they had decided to quit carrying a fine Tequila by the name of Sauza Conmemorativo and were liquidating their stock at half price. She Who Must Be Obeyed wasn’t sure this was necessarily a good thing, but nevertheless we picked up a couple of bottles of the liquid gold, five pounds of limes and all the fixings for Margaritas. She and I spent the weekend watching Bogart movies, listening to Duke Ellington records when his band featured the like of Clark Terry on trumpet and Johnny Hodges on alto sax, and Billy Strayhorn was writing the charts. I burned meat on the grill and we went to a movie house in St. Louis where you sit on leather sofas and they have a full service bar. I read the New York Times book reviews and I didn’t watch a single depressing minute of news concerning the soul-killing wars going on around the world.
Finally, Sunday night about 10:00 p.m. I decided to rejoin the world. I wanted to see how my friends Chris Karamesines and Jim Oddy had done at the IHRA race at Martin, MI. What I found out was the Greek had optioned Martin to race at Spokane Raceway Park for Jim Tice, Jr. and that Oddy and his team seemed to be getting their feet under them as they qualified well and went rounds.
But there was even better news that brightened my disposition considerably. My old Texas partner, Dave Settles, was tuning the Zizzo family Top Fueler at Martin and they not only got the pole but won the race in convincing fashion over a pretty stout field. As if that wasn’t enough, my old friend of some 25 years, Jack Wyatt, got his second IHRA win of the year over a strong field. I know for a fact that both the Zizzo family and Wyatt are unsponsored and basically have no spare parts. Yet these two throwback teams from another era of drag racing found their way to the winner’s circle.
And it didn’t end there. Despite all of the hand-wringing about how Pro Modified nitrous cars can’t compete against supercharged cars, Mike Castellana not only won the Torco Shootout money but went to the final round of the national event and could have easily won that race too.
As I sat in front of my computer Sunday night with a cold one in one hand reading the results of the race courtesy of the guys at Summit’s Drag Race Central, I found myself grinning from ear to ear as I hollered to the wife that Wyatt, the Zizzo’s and Settles had won! I realized that despite the bullshit that goes on I still love drag racing and it is still the last professional racing sport where a privateer can win -- and that’s what separates it from the made-for-TV, gold-chain, Gucci loafer circuits that dominate the sports pages.
I got a call from Settles at 2:00 freakin’ a.m. Monday to tell me they had kicked everyone’s butt. It was alright. I’d had my weekend off from drag racing and found out that given the choice I still love drag racing and the news of it better than any of the alternatives except maybe a few more half-price sales of great Tequila.
See ya at the digs. .
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