I was thinking about this blog over the weekend while I was in Michigan watching the snow and our race teams were in Phoenix getting the race cars ready for ’07 at the Time Trials. I have had an idea swimming around in my head for several days about doing a blog entry for Scott Kalitta.

Over the past few years, I have gotten to be pretty good friends with Scott. We’ve had a bunch of laughs together both at the race track and away from it. I must admit that we have a kindred spirit in being mischievous. We are both at the ready to initiate a good prank if the opportunity arises. I could probably tell you one of those stories and that would be that, but I want to tell the one story that seems to makes it way to the front of my brain when I think about my buddy Scott.

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…wait…okay, it was the national event in Memphis in 1993; I went to my first drag race, actually my first professional race of any sort. I did not go willingly. At that time, I had dropped out of college and had moved back in with my dad with very little direction in my life to speak of. My dad told me that if I did not go to at least part of the race in Memphis with him that he would make me start paying rent, so off we went one Friday night to Memphis Motorsports Park. Now, people look at me funny sometimes when I tell the rest of this story because I knew the exact second in the parking lot, er, uh…field at MMP, when I wanted to work in NHRA drag racing. We had just shut the doors on the car and we had taken maybe five steps when I heard a nitro burnout for the first time. My life changed in that millisecond and I am so grateful today to my dad for “pushing” me into going. I have condensed this story somewhat, so if you see me at a race sometime ask me and I’ll give you the long-winded version, but you better have several minutes to spare.

I have said all that to say this. My perceptions of drag racing and auto racing in general for that matter were skewed because I hadn’t taken the time before then to see what it was all about before I passed my condemnation. This is also the case for me and Scott. All I knew of him back then was his persona in media interviews. I wanted the driver to get out of the car tell me everything that went on in that run as soon as a camera or a mic was stuck in his face with a big smile. Scott didn’t do that and it made me mad. During the 1994 and 1995 seasons when Scott was winning it seemed like every weekend, I was miserable. I had a common answer whenever I was asked who my favorite driver was – “Anyone but Scott Kalitta!” Last year, I finally made mention of my former angst to someone on our team and then begrudgingly later that evening told Scott. He laughed and gave me a bit of grief about it, but it’s all in good fun.

Okay, so the moral of this story is Scott’s an okay guy… no, wait, there’s a better moral than that. Don’t rush to judge drivers by what you see on TV or hear on the radio. They might be a lot different once you get to know them, or you may go to work for them and then you’ll be forced to like ‘em! (Just kidding Scott)