A Mystical Creature Known As "The Off-Season"

My January has been fairly easy. Life has been quite simple in the life of my little cubical in South Carolina. Don't get me wrong, I am bored as shit. The highlight of my week are the days I spend visiting my accounts and all of the Nationwide and Camping World truck teams. For the first time in 9 years my January is rather dull. I've spent a lot of time and effort into getting to know our products better and educating myself on the life and love of brake sales. Its riveting. :really: Meetings, placing orders, gathering samples.. enticing I know. Recently, I have found myself constantly in a state of.. "This time last year, I was.." :haha: I walk into these race teams with my carefree, peppy, cheerful, rested, brake salesman attitude and the Harrys are exhausted. Its written all over their faces. Misery. Hating life. It's pre-season not off-season. The first race is looming in the dark corner next to the pit equipment. Cars need to be built, set-up, engineered, fine tuned and in the lucky cases branded with sponsorship. The media calls it the "Off-Season", which is hilarity at its finest. The "Off-Season" in the world of NASCAR is as mystical of a creature as "Puff the Magic Dragon."

During these months most all of the guys are working late hours and long weekends with, in most cases, minimal help, due to the current financial standing of NASCAR. Don't let their gripes, grumbles and cursing fool you..they love it. They all do. They must. I know I did. Trust me, I bitched as much as anyone else.
Here's a taste of how it goes.. The news of unplanned wind tunnel time comes down the chain of command and what do ya know the crew chiefs wants to take chassis 087. :ahhh yes, perfect, ofcourse chassis 087: That's 087 over in the corner with no suspension, no engine, no nada. Sitting over there in all her "just a body" glory, collecting dust. Oh and they need it now.
Maybe that is why I am so bored. Typically this time of year, I am right there with them. Wide open, exhausted and going in 4,684 different directions. That is "Business As Usual" for the month of January in NASCAR. I know the Harry's are just about over it, but I really miss it. I find myself putting off little tasks in my cubical so that at 4pm I am paniced and stressed-out trying to get that last spreadsheet completed before 5. Its all subconcious but completely on purpose. It's delightful. PANIC! I love you. I miss you.
On a set-up plate in Mooresville the bump-steer on the Intermediate car is all wrong. A sub-assembly guy is scrambling around to change the culprit drag link.. for the third time. All of this is happening under the watchful eye of the already annoyed crew chief, who incidentaly told the mechanic what drag link needed to be installed in the first place. Patience are running low and he considers throwing down the parts and making a dramatic exit. Just wait, that same guy will be the first one at the plane en route to Daytona. As he waits for the rest of the crew to board he is filling up his Twitter feed with something like, "On the way to DAYTONA Baby! Wooowhoooo." It's all ok now, cause race season has finally arrived, and everyone survived. 

Mile Markers

Today we head eight hours northwest to Kentucky Speedway. By the looks on the faces of the Harrys you realize that this is no typical travel day for us. Nope. Today we get "windshield time" in the team van. You should know, all team vans smell like ass, b.o., and well... boys. Which means "windshield time" feels more like "gym bag time" :hackt:
Currently, times are tough for a small race team like ours. Just one year ago we were staying in the fanciest of hotels, utilizing shuttle services, and even boarding private jets. This season we don't have the luxury of a full-time sponsor so the indulgences that we had grown accustomed to aren't nearly as plentiful. Yes, we have gotten a bit spoiled but no one in this van forgets that this used to be the only way real racers went racing. The "grass-roots" of our sport. We like to call them, "The Days of Dale" (The late Dale Earnhardt Sr). I believe that most of the mechanics, car owners, spotters and PR reps all began their careers in the "grass roots" fashion of auto racing.

Ex: Anxiously hoping into a steaming hot Suburban in the dead of summer with either family and friends enrounte to the local race track, loving every minute. This is when the seeds of their unforeseen careers are planted. And we didn't care how we got there, we were just happy to go.

As we pass each mile marker I am reflecting on my own "grass root" days. The days when an 8 hour ride to the racetrack was the highlight of my week. A white Ford pickup, toting our family owned race team from race track to race track was my team van. I grew up racing for my Mom and Dad at the local dirt tracks. Those days were the best. We raced every single weekend. The long drives were our time to discuss and dream of where all of this might lead. I learned a lot about life in that truck. (I also learned that making Dad keep the windshield wipers off didn't actually keep the rain from inevitably coming) Back then I believed I would be a racing champion. Those long talks past countless miles markers fueled that desire.

Along the way I transitioned from driver to mechanic. I get to live my life traveling from coast to coast, chasing the NASCAR Nationwide Schedule. I go into the garage, wrench on race cars and walk out everyday. It never crosses my mind that I didn't get to fullfil my dreams as a racecar driver. I am no longer a young driver with dreams of that Cup Race winning pass to keep me motivated. Now I am a mechanic with dreams of that Cup Race winning pit strategy. I have new goals now.

Short term:

• Do my part to help our race team run better this weekend so maybe we can land a sponsor and not ride in this stanky van anymore.
Long term:
• Work my way up the ranks and position myself to be a well respected crew chief.

I realize that to accomplish all of the things that i have laid out on my "To-Do" list I have to take steps. Each step is comparable to these mile markers that keep passing by. I know where i want to go, and there's no way to jump ahead or skip some steps. I have to reach each mile marker and continue on to the next.