THREE DAYS IN VEGAS AND A
TWO-DAY
"LAX"-ATIVE
2/8/05
Jeff Burk Photo |
Since 1984, I have always dug going to what
are in a general sweeping sense referred to as the "January
Test Sessions." For a number of years, well until the
time the Strip at Las Vegas was constructed, these sessions
were run almost exclusively at Charlie Allen's sandbox in
Arizona. These tests are where the pros give the fans a sneak
preview of "whaddup" for the new season by making
test runs with their new horses. To me, it's always been one
of the great bargains in drag racing: Three to four days with
the top pros in the sport under much less stressful conditions
than say, mid-July in the turbulent PowerADE punch bowl.
This year it was a little different for me. Instead of three
days of backstroking through the pro pits in a river of beer
and then home on a Southwest cattle car, The Burkster and
starting quarterback Darr Hawthorne were gonna take a deep
breath for a day after the tests, then head to LAX (Los Angeles
International Airport .. and .. environs) for something called
the Motorsports Parts Manufacturing Council. This is a get-together
for a slew of the manufacturers that juice this sport with
valuable product and an opportunity to show it off to interested
parties and see what kind of hit they get off it ... at least,
that's my guess.
This year, it was held at the Embassy Suites, right off a
street that borders LAX's southern flank, and, at least for
this confab, provided a visual backdrop of a number of Connie
Kalitta's freight planes. More importantly, it provided this
non-cashbox kinda guy an
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opportunity to listen in on the mannerisms,
language, and wherewithall of a drag racing area that I'm
not all that familiar with ... kinda like a Catholic priest
in a topless joint.
For this non-sophisticate, this game plan meant a double
dip into both realms of a sport I've been tight with for over
40 years. Why the hell not?
The Las Vegas test sessions were run in the second to last
weekend of January and I was up for them. The World Finals
at Pomona were two months old and I could use the old drag
race needle and spoon to turn my engine over. Not like when
the "Sweatbox Summer," as in St. Louis et. al.,
rolls along and you need the hype to run away from it, but
enough of these ugly references. It's showtime!
"Showtime?" Well, more like "Slowtime."
While the new year tests are great for ramping up a jones,
there are no real deadlines for the racers to make the staging
lines: they pretty much run when they damn well feel like
it. Okay with me, but that also means the fan can't stray
too far from the stands just in case one of the performers
feels that now's the time. Basically that leaves him or her
at the mercy of the concessionaires and as any drag race fan
knows ... there's no mercy behind that little sliding glass
window.
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