Chapter 3
Chapter three
Slade
Daytona, FL
The pressure was real. After last week’s podium finish, I had to do it again, or everyone would say it was a fluke.
I was no fluke. My home track reserved time for me while I was there from Sunday to Thursday and even loaned me a practice bike to use when Dean left with the race bike on Wednesday and sprang for a plane ticket to get me to Florida Friday morning.
Everything felt like controlled chaos, but I was ready and focused on that.
Qualifying went well, but not spectacular. It was enough to get me in a heat race, so I wasn’t going to complain, instead I was taking it step-by-step. Next race would get me to the main. Then I needed a good finish, preferably top three.
I wanted to go search out Clay, but I’d probably pissed him off the prior week. I’d only wanted to get his attention, but I needed to forget about him, so I climbed up on the stationary bike to keep warm. It wasn’t nearly as hot as I’d expected Daytona to be.
“Excuse me. Slade Myers?” Some guy walked up to the pit. He wore jeans and a red golf shirt with a logo on the chest that looked like MDC, but I didn’t know what brand that was.
“Yeah.”
“I’m Gerard Campbell, and I represent Mortenson Digital Consulting. Or MDC.” Light bulb! I’d heard of them, but what did he want with me?
“Okay?” I climbed off the bike and shook his hand.
“I don’t mean to interrupt, but I have an offer for you.”
“Offer?”
“A mini sponsorship.”
“Dad!” I yelled out for my dad to join us since he was really who the guy should be talking with.
They worked out a deal, providing new gear and stickers with their logo for the bike.
I took the box around the side of the truck and opened it.
There were three pants and three jerseys.
They all had my name and number on them already, which I thought was presumptuous on their part.
Things didn’t work like that normally. They were full-on rainbow colors. I would be seen—that was for sure.
I changed into the new gear, finding what fit best. Well, without getting signed to a team, I had to take what I could get. Walking back to the front of our pit, I held my hands out to my sides and turned in a circle. “Well?”
“Great. Now that we know your size, we’ll get another set delivered to you before the next race.” Gerard shook my dad’s hand and patted my shoulder. “Looks great.”
“Thanks.”
“Slade will be sure to thank the company if he gets a podium,” Dad added.
“I’ll be on the podium. Don’t worry about that.” I was always cocky about racing. It was in my blood or something.
“I have no doubt.”
Dad looked me up and down and cracked a rare smile. “If you wanted attention, that’s sure to get it.”
“Whatever. I need to warm up.” I ignored him, climbing back on the bike.
The rest of the day went about as well. I got a transfer spot into the main.
Barely. Then after some heavy racing with Clay and that Finley guy, I managed to eek out a fourth-place spot.
It was not on the podium, and I was furious.
The surprise was that the network reporter interviewed me anyway, asking the same questions about how it felt, but this time they meant how did it feel not getting on the podium after last week’s finish.
I simply didn’t feel as good on the track.
I didn’t like the sand sections and lost speed every single time through.
Whatever. There would be another race next week. I didn’t forget to thank my new sponsor, but I left off any smart-ass comments and kept my mouth shut about Clay. He acted like I didn’t exist, proving that I needed to get over this ridiculous crush.
Two days later, Zahr Parts Toyota called. This was the big news. They felt like a fourth place was still good enough to invite me to race for the new team they were putting together. BikeMax was currently the only other Toyota team, and they wanted be the second.
Dad put the guy on speaker. “Nice to meet you, Slade. I look forward to working with you. My name is Ian Tweed. Everyone just calls me Tweed. Zahr has charged me to manage the team, which is just you for now, and also be your coach. I understand you don’t currently have a manager or coach.”
“Just my dad and Uncle Will.”
“Well, my resume includes a ton of motocross as a racer with a few Supercross rounds, but I’ll admit I didn’t do as well as you.
But after that, I coached a few motocross racers in several leagues, including Jakov Hranic last year in Europe.
” That was his big name drop. Jakov won last year.
“So, I’m happy to take you on and see if we can get you on that podium every week. ”
“Sure.” I was excited, but it felt too good to be true. They promised me a new race bike as well as a practice bike, all the gear I’d need, and a new mechanic.
“Great. I’ve been working with Daryl Todd from Toyota. This is not a factory team, but since they do help BikeMax, we’re going to get support from them. If things go well, they might decide to go with a full factory sponsorship, but for now, they’re asking one thing.”
Dad cringed. “What’s that?” Yeah, there was always a catch, and I held my breath waiting for Tweed to tell me what it was.
“They want you to practice at a different track.” That didn’t sound so bad. “And work with BikeMax. They’ve already agreed to help us, so we need to sign contracts and get you out to North Carolina. Like yesterday.”
My heart beating…came to a full stop.
This could be everything.