Chapter 12
Chapter twelve
X-TS Event
Tate loved the added event, sponsored by X-Top Energy drink.
They called it the X-Top Energy Straight Event, which rapidly became known as the X-TS Event.
This was not a typical race or race track, for that matter.
No, it was head-to-head, straight out, wide open race down a half a mile stretch of rhythm section.
Whoops and dragon backs and table tops all stretched out in one shot—no turns.
The racers went against one opponent at a time in an elimination bracket style tournament.
The gates had been designed more like horse racing than for motorcycles, but Tate liked that, too.
It allowed him those few last seconds of headspace before tearing through the dirt.
The top sixteen Supercross riders would be there to compete for the honor and the money along with some few others from other motocross leagues.
The excitement of seeing Davey and Tyler again would be second only to barreling down that track—and winning.
He pouted, unable to answer himself and headed out from the RV that MSR had provided for the weekend to find his mechanic and his bike.
He didn't like not knowing who was working on his machine, but MSR had complete control. Tate didn’t know if he liked that or not.
He realized handing over a lot of that kind of control was probably better.
That way he didn’t have to worry about much else, and it left Tate with the surety of the one thing he knew how to do. Ride.
At his pit, an awning stretched out from the side of a huge truck with his number, 87, and his sponsor names plastered all over the place.
The mechanics had huge tool boxes wheeled out and the bike up on a stand.
When he stepped farther into the area, he noticed Joey sitting in a chair, tipping up a bottle of water.
Yeah, it was damned hot in Southern California, even in October.
“Hey,” he called out to the guy leaning over the seat of his bike.
The guy stood and turned. Andrew Hansen. Tate let out a relieved breath, knowing Andrew was one of the best mechanics on the MSR team. “Hey, Tate. You're going to love this ride.”
Tate offered his best smile, usually reserved for the podium. “I'm sure, Drew. Glad you're on the team today.” He held out his hand, but Andrew held his up in the air, showing the coating of grease that had turned them black.
“If today goes well, I'll be on the team, leading it, for the season.”
“Great!” Tate couldn't be happier with that setup. Andrew meant quality craftsmanship. He wasn't Tyler Whitmore, but that mechanic was booked. Davey wouldn't be letting his man work for any other riders, even Tate. “Looking forward to it.”
Joey stood up and handed Tate a bottle of water. “Oz should be here shortly and there'll be fans to talk with. Drink now. Make sure you stay hydrated today.”
“Yes, boss.” Tate knew the man was right, he just didn't like taking orders.
What could he say though? He may be the star, but not the only one on the team.
MSR made sure to surround him with the best, knowing it took everyone to make it work.
Joey was the best trainer and Oz the best manager.
Now, Andrew would join the team. Tate couldn't complain.
Nope, with help from the team he could easily get through any bullshit until he hit the track.
Then, nothing would matter but the dirt.
His first set of races would be against Cole Lindt, who had helped that asshole, Parker, fuck with Davey and Tyler last season.
Tyler had been Cole’s mechanic until some ass posted that picture on the internet of Davey and Tyler engaged in a sexual act.
They never figured out who had snapped and posted the pic, but most suspected Parker.
It had damaged their reputations in the beginning and had gotten Tyler fired from the team.
Cole's loss.
Tate wanted to make sure it would be Cole's loss in the first bracket as well.
They'd be going head to head, best two out of three runs advancing.
Tate could not be knocked out in the first round; he just couldn't let that happen.
He had learned a few things from Davey about leveraging his longer legs and handling the bike over the jumps.
He'd learned a lot from his coach about jumping with speed, low over mounds.
He had every intention of using all of that knowledge and his natural instincts to decimate Cole Lindt.
“Clean that bike up,” Oz roared. He stormed into the pits wearing cargo shorts, a red polo and a white straw hat. You'd never see him in a jersey or the team uniforms. He always presented a classy front.
“What's up, Oz, man?” He grasped Oz's hand and they shared a chest to chest bro-hug.
“I've got a reporter coming to interview you in a few minutes. We'll do it right by the bike. I want the number front a center. Let's go,” he commanded with a clap of his hands.
Andrew gave him a quick salute and finished up whatever he'd been doing, then grabbed a fresh towel, to wipe down the bike.
Tate bumped into Oz’s shoulder. “Yeah, hello to you too, Oz.”
“No time, no time, my boy. This is race day. I don't care if it isn't a point's race. It's still important. We want you to win this.”
Tate snorted, knowing that his sponsors didn't think he'd do better than third in points this year and that probably included the X-TS event. “I plan to.” He did. He planned to show them all.
He glanced at Joey, who wore the same smirk. Yep, at least he knew his trainer was in his corner. Despite their somewhat rocky start, the man had gotten Tate's head and racing where it needed to be, on the track instead of in his pants.
Joey slapped a hand down on Oz's shoulder. “Relax. Tate's got this.”
Oz pointed at Joey. “You, I trust. All right.” He jerked his head to indicate the production rolling down the pavement toward them. “Hey, grab one of those hats.”
Tate rolled his eyes, but grabbed a hat anyway. It had his colors, the main hat was yellow with black and white stripes across the brim, and a KTM logo on the front. He tugged it on and tucked his long hair behind his ears and gave a goofy smile that made Oz and Joey laugh.
“Shit. Behave, Tate,” Oz laughed, just as the reporter with her gear stopped outside the awning.
“Good morning, Mr. Osgood.” The reporter had long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and a fresh face. Her voice rang like a bell.
“Oz, please.” He shook her hand and gestured for her to enter the domain of Tate Jordan, number 87.
Behind the reporter, a camera man and a helper pushing a cart pressed in. Joey and Andrew took that moment to disappear out the other side. They weren't the ones that the sponsors wanted to see on camera anyway.
Tate knew the drill; he turned on his winner's smile. “Hello.”
They shook hands before the woman spoke. “Nice to meet you. I'm Amy. May I call you Tate?” She had a nice smile and confidant stature.
“Yes, sure, of course.”
“Great. So, I'm just going to introduce you and ask you a few questions.”
Tate nodded. “Sure. Fine.”
After she fussed with her crew for a minute, Amy pulled a set of headphones, huge black cups strapped together with an antennae sticking up on one side, over her ears.
Her assistant handed her a big mic with a box wrapped around it with the X-Top Energy logo on one side and the network station on the other. “Ready?” she asked.
Tate smiled and uncrossed his arms. Oz had instructed him numerous times to keep his hands at his sides during an interview unless he was holding something with a sponsor logo. Empty handed, he clenched and unclenched his fists but kept them at his sides.
“I'm here this morning with Tate Jordan, one of Supercross's best riders,” she started. “Tate, you qualified eighth today, putting you up against Cole Lindt, who also did not qualify as well as expected. What happened out there?”
“Uh, I can't speak for Cole,” he chuckled and Amy chuckled with him. “But for me, it was just getting used to the track. It's different than a regular Supercross track without the turns, so getting the feel for it just took me a minute, but I've got it now.”
“So, you think you're going to eliminate Cole in the first round?”
Tate plastered his winner's smile across his face. Ear to ear, he knew it outshined anything else around. “I don't think. I know.”
“I love that confidence. You finished well in points last year, but with the likes of McAllister and Regal consistently leading the board, how do you think you'll finish this next season?”
Tate laughed. MSR probably told them not to ask that question.
Over Amy's shoulder, he could see Oz scowling.
He knew it was a sore subject. No one expected Tate to win against those two, especially Davey.
“It's any man's ride, right. I mean, yeah, they're great racers, but being on the track with them only makes me better, and if I can take the lead from any other racer, I'm going to.
I'm going to finish in points in the best place I possibly can.”
“Even if that means beating Davey McAllister? He is your friend, right?”
“Oh, we're friends,” Tate nodded.
“Haven't you been training with Davey McAllister during the off season? Is that why you're getting better?”
Tate smiled again, knowing that Amy was asking all the questions MSR wanted to avoid. He didn't care. “I haven't been with them yet during this off season, though I have trained with Davey in the past. Yeah, it makes me a better rider. Of course. He's the best.”
Amy gave a sly smile. “Why haven't you been out with him, yet?” she asked, probably already knowing the answer.
“Davey started the off season on his honeymoon. You'll have to ask him about that.” Tate winked at her. Being charming had always gone a long way for him in this game. He knew how to work it.