Read Online In the Blink of an Eye by Michael Waltrip - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Michael Waltrip
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she’s gonna have a fit!”
And what about me? This was what I needed, and what I’d wanted for years. I couldn’t wait.
So as I pulled up to the Garage-Mahal, it felt different this time. Oh, did it look mighty! Is this where they’ll build my cars? I wondered. My cars, being built in a factory, not just being bolted together somewhere. It felt like a dream.
I went around to the back and up to Dale’s private entrance like I always did. Up the stairs and into a hallway that opened into the waiting room just outside Dale’s and Teresa’s offices. It also led to the trophy room.
The interior of the DEI headquarters was just as impressive as the exterior. Other than walking past a display of Dale’s trophies, you’d never know you were in the same building where they were building a bunch of race cars. The walk to the trophy room took you across a marble floor. The chairs were covered in fine leather. And I’d eaten there before too. The chef was world-class and he prepared health-conscious food. And they also had a mighty fine wine list.
When I walked in, there Dale sat, in the same place he always did, his favorite chair. When I said, “Hey,” the grin on his face got bigger.
“You ready to win some races?” he asked.
“Are we going racing?” I didn’t give him a chance to answer. “All right! This will be so cool!”
“Hold! Hold! Calm down there. NAPA didn’t commit yet. They need a few days.”
What! I thought but didn’t say out loud. Don’t do that, you teaser. “A few days”? What’s “a few” to Dale?
Then Dale started explaining to me how the deal would work if NAPA were to commit. Like he needed to, I thought. It would be just like it was with the Wood boys. “Just tell me what I gotta do and—check, check, check.” You think I was going to sit there and negotiate with Dale Earnhardt?
But he seemed to be into telling me about the terms of the deal, like the length of the contract, how much he was going to pay me, what I had to do—all the things that Dale as the owner felt like he needed to explain to me.
In my mind all of that was just a formality until he said: “And we’ll know by Friday.”
What’s today? I asked myself. It’s Tuesday. Friday seems like forever. That’s three days of wandering around with my future hanging in the balance.
Would I have to take a ride just to make a living for my family? Or would I be able to drive a car I could win with? The frustrating part was that the decision would be made in Atlanta. All I could do now was pray. And hope.
But now I had hope.
CHAPTER 16
THE DECISION
T hree days. Just three days. That doesn’t sound like such a long time. When I hear three days, I think about Jesus and all that went down for him in three days. I knew my life might be very different after these three days. I had fifteen years of history to overcome. Fifteen years of trying too hard and coming up short. After fifteen years, people in the NASCAR world knew me better for what I hadn’t accomplished than for what I had.
The first day of waiting for NAPA’s decision wasn’t all that bad. Dale’s optimism in the trophy room was still all over me. It was like Ricardo Montalban was standing there and had just said, “Welcome to Fantasy Island.” And the dwarf, Tattoo, agreed. Dale was confident. Why shouldn’t I be?
But day two was a different story. I did not like day two at all.
It began with me obsessing over what was going on in Atlanta where the decision was being made. All the different scenarios were playing in my mind.
I hope the people down there know what a big deal this is to me, I was thinking. I feel like getting in my car right now, driving down there and telling ’em. I wonder if they know I’ve never gone three races in anything I’ve ever started without winning except for Cup. I could tell ’em this 0-for-four-hundred-and-whatever start I’m off to, it must be some kind of mistake. I know what I’d say: I’ve never
And what about me? This was what I needed, and what I’d wanted for years. I couldn’t wait.
So as I pulled up to the Garage-Mahal, it felt different this time. Oh, did it look mighty! Is this where they’ll build my cars? I wondered. My cars, being built in a factory, not just being bolted together somewhere. It felt like a dream.
I went around to the back and up to Dale’s private entrance like I always did. Up the stairs and into a hallway that opened into the waiting room just outside Dale’s and Teresa’s offices. It also led to the trophy room.
The interior of the DEI headquarters was just as impressive as the exterior. Other than walking past a display of Dale’s trophies, you’d never know you were in the same building where they were building a bunch of race cars. The walk to the trophy room took you across a marble floor. The chairs were covered in fine leather. And I’d eaten there before too. The chef was world-class and he prepared health-conscious food. And they also had a mighty fine wine list.
When I walked in, there Dale sat, in the same place he always did, his favorite chair. When I said, “Hey,” the grin on his face got bigger.
“You ready to win some races?” he asked.
“Are we going racing?” I didn’t give him a chance to answer. “All right! This will be so cool!”
“Hold! Hold! Calm down there. NAPA didn’t commit yet. They need a few days.”
What! I thought but didn’t say out loud. Don’t do that, you teaser. “A few days”? What’s “a few” to Dale?
Then Dale started explaining to me how the deal would work if NAPA were to commit. Like he needed to, I thought. It would be just like it was with the Wood boys. “Just tell me what I gotta do and—check, check, check.” You think I was going to sit there and negotiate with Dale Earnhardt?
But he seemed to be into telling me about the terms of the deal, like the length of the contract, how much he was going to pay me, what I had to do—all the things that Dale as the owner felt like he needed to explain to me.
In my mind all of that was just a formality until he said: “And we’ll know by Friday.”
What’s today? I asked myself. It’s Tuesday. Friday seems like forever. That’s three days of wandering around with my future hanging in the balance.
Would I have to take a ride just to make a living for my family? Or would I be able to drive a car I could win with? The frustrating part was that the decision would be made in Atlanta. All I could do now was pray. And hope.
But now I had hope.
CHAPTER 16
THE DECISION
T hree days. Just three days. That doesn’t sound like such a long time. When I hear three days, I think about Jesus and all that went down for him in three days. I knew my life might be very different after these three days. I had fifteen years of history to overcome. Fifteen years of trying too hard and coming up short. After fifteen years, people in the NASCAR world knew me better for what I hadn’t accomplished than for what I had.
The first day of waiting for NAPA’s decision wasn’t all that bad. Dale’s optimism in the trophy room was still all over me. It was like Ricardo Montalban was standing there and had just said, “Welcome to Fantasy Island.” And the dwarf, Tattoo, agreed. Dale was confident. Why shouldn’t I be?
But day two was a different story. I did not like day two at all.
It began with me obsessing over what was going on in Atlanta where the decision was being made. All the different scenarios were playing in my mind.
I hope the people down there know what a big deal this is to me, I was thinking. I feel like getting in my car right now, driving down there and telling ’em. I wonder if they know I’ve never gone three races in anything I’ve ever started without winning except for Cup. I could tell ’em this 0-for-four-hundred-and-whatever start I’m off to, it must be some kind of mistake. I know what I’d say: I’ve never
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