Gainesville was wonderful. It’s a race weekend I shall never forget, but not because the Valvoline/Mail Terminal Services team left with the trophy or the national record. Losing second round never is what we look forward to, and our team has put in the hours to be able to enjoy many winner’s circles. No, the 2008 Gatornationals was memorable to me for other reasons ... many other reasons.

Seldom has three days given me such perspective on what I’m doing, where I am, and why I’m here. First I would like to pay tribute to someone who, though young in age and small in stature, showed heart, character, and will that I can only hope to aspire to. This past Thanksgiving we lost Johnathan Quick, a true fan of the sport. I knew shortly after Johnathan passed, but I wanted to make sure that it was okay to use his photo on my blog. His parents stopped by the pits during the race, and I wish that I had more time to reflect with them. The photo is from last year, and I think it’s worth a thousand words. Sorry about the clutch dust in my eyes, it’s not makeup. Does it help your perspective like it did mine? To the entire Quick family: I am so sorry for your loss, but the memories that Johnathan left will endure in many hearts throughout the NHRA.

Friday was a total rainout, with the exception of some Sportsman action. So here we were for the second race in a row, and down to two qualifying sessions ... no pressure. Due to the points (the top cars in the points run at the back of the first session in qualifying), we ran Robert Hight as the last pair of session one. Our 4.84 and Robert’s 4.86 were the quickest passes of that session, and that was huge. Knowing that you are probably going to stay in the field enables you to “test” on the last session. In fact, Robert and I were again paired (as the quickest cars from session one) for the final session, as the last two cars. Because there are many tune-up variables that can be changed at the last minute (such as blower overdrive, nitro percentage, and timing, fuel, and clutch curves), we had the luxury of “taking a shot” at the track. It didn’t hold. We still ended up sixth and had an interesting first round match ... with my boss, Frank Hawley.

I first met Frank in 1997 when I attended his school. The following year, he became my boss, and I still pinch myself because it’s so cool. Imagine being a Little League baseball player and having Mickey Mantle come and work with you. Now imagine, years later, getting a shot in the big leagues, and Mantle comes out of retirement. He’s at the plate, and YOU are throwing the pitches! Racing Frank first round is one of the cooler things I have ever done in racing. To be perfectly honest, once strapped in and fired up for the run, there was nothing different about it compared to scores of other eliminations runs that I have made. As a racecar driver, that really is the way one should look at all races. It was just another pass. That being said, knowing I would face one of the legends of the sport, and someone I look to with much admiration, is bitchin’. Don’t read too much into that particular race, as the tune-up and stage position effect the time slip as much as the driver’s performance and I feel fortunate that our Dodge Charger got the win light.

Apparently Tim Wilkerson didn’t get the memo for second round. With five straight round wins, we now had the baddest nitro funny car in the land, and were ready for more. We had lane choice and de-tuned the car slightly for the hotter track conditions. Tim didn’t. His 4.84 against us may have been the run of the day, and we had nothing for his 550-foot home run shot. No, Gainesville wasn’t special based on our Sunday performance, but it was very fulfilling....

Friday night (I digress) Mopar had a special dinner in town for several of the drivers and owners. Capps, Scelzi, Richie Stevens, Allen and Roy Johnson, Don Schumacher and I attended, but you’ll never guess who I got to sit next to. Does “No. 204” ring a bell? How about “Tampa Dan”? “Swamp Rat”? “Large Father”? Okay, if I’d have just said “Big”, you’d know Don Garlits was there. How’d you like to spend and hour and a half asking question after question to THE MAN of the quarter mile? It was all that and more. Thank you, Mopar, for a night I will never forget.

While thinking of Garlits, the name T.C. Lemons should stick out. A legendary crew man, and possibly the greatest story teller of all time is back amongst the living. T.C. has been through some trying times, including lots of chemo and treatment for cancer, but looks to be on the mend after a long ordeal. Though I wasn’t able to hook up with him at the track, we finally touched base on the phone as I was heading to the airport Sunday afternoon. Stay strong, T.C.

So what else was special about the 39th running of the Gators, you ask? Old friends. I can’t believe it’s been 24 years since I enlisted in the Air Force, it just doesn’t seem possible. Two of my best friends from the military both reside in south Florida, and both came up for the race.

I met Mike Pearson because everyone told me he had the fastest car in town. I was so sick of hearing about his AMX and couldn’t wait to whip his ass with my big-block El Camino. We actually became friends long before we raced one another on the streets of New Mexico (kids, don’t try this today!) Both of our cars had nitrous, but no one for 100 miles filled it, so we ran without bottles. I got a good view of the AMX rear bumper. Later Mike helped me swap a new rear-end with 4:10 gears (it had 3:08s), while another mechanic friend of ours bolted up the VERY mismatched U-joint to the rear end yoke. After breaking in the gears by driving around for 30 miles, we made a quarter-mile sprint on a small road adjacent to the base (again, this was back in the ‘50s, kids). One large boom, two pieces of driveshaft, three chunks of bellhousing, and four miles of walking later Mike and I had one helluva story. Mike brought his buddy Roy up for Saturday and Sunday, and we had a great time.

Greg Byrd and I worked together in the same squadron for the last few months of our tour, and also lived in the same dorm. As I remember, we both also were incredible slobs considering who we worked for. Greg and I both had motorcycles, though for most of our enlistments we were on different shifts and didn’t ride together too much. Greg went to school, worked a part time job off-base, and occasionally even slept! He became a corporate pilot years after rejoining civilian life, and brought his wife Emily and their three children up for Sunday. All of us got to hang out in the stands for the semi-finals, and it actually was pretty cool. (I hope to be busy holding a steering wheel for the rest of the year during that timeframe Sunday)

Old friends, legends, more legends, great racing, and some perspective on life. That’s a lot for one weekend.

Stay tuned