A Sunday Drive - Greg Lyle (warren buffett book recommendations txt) 📗

about Mopar boy?”
“He’s ok, a little shaken, but alright. He took a hell of a ride.” Jerry responds.

“Ya he did, he went flying! Not supposed to do that in a car.” Mac says with a laugh. “I want to meet that guy. He’s got…well he’s got balls that’s for sure. Don’t know about brains, but balls, he’s got a nice pair of those.” Mac laughs out loud.

“Man I hope the tires have cooled enough to give me some grip.” Mac says as he pulls away.

The car spits fire from the exhaust as it bucks and rocks back and forth on the solid coupling created by the race clutch. It loads up, sputters and threatens to die complaining at being forced to run hot and at low speeds. Mac clutches it and snap revs the engine a few times to clear the cylinders of excess fuel. Happier the engine responds and pulls the car close behind the pace car.

Mac moves to the edge of the track to get clean air flowing over the radiators. The water and oil temperatures slowly come down. He periodically aggressively pulls the wheel left and right repeatedly; scrubbing off the bits of rubber, gravel, and trash the hot sticky tires have picked up. If he fails to clean the tires before his first trip into turn one they will not produce the grip he’ll need to keep Sandy behind him. In effect he’ll be returning the favor she gave him on the opening lap of the race.


“Ok get ready green this time by, scrub those tires dude. Three to go!” Jerry informs him.
“Now’s the time to let it all out Mac. Gime what ever you got left. Ya don’t want’a get beat by a girl do ya?” Jerry giggles.

“Wont be the first time she’s whooped me.” Mac says.

“Ya but not today damn it! Show her you da MAN!”

“Jerry this car is gonna be fifty feet wide! She’s gonna be bustin up fiberglass getting by today!” Mac shouts back.

“Alright! That’s what I’m talking about!” Jerry responds. “Kick er ass!”

They turn onto the front straight, and the pace car accelerates away towards pit road. Mac maintains his slow pace for a bit longer. He then accelerates hard watches as Sandy responds then brake checks her. It’s a classic trick and it has worked because…

“Green, green, green, green!” Jerry shouts.

Mac hits the gas and the car surges forward, catching Sandy still reacting to his sudden brake check. The trick has given him a four car advantage at the drop of the green, and more importantly a speed advantage he will carry all the way to turn one. By the time he hits his braking mark he has a six car advantage. She will be boiling mad at having been caught out and may make more mistakes reacting to it.

Mac sails off turn two and sets up for the throw away entry into turn three. However he turns in to early, apexes early and ends up wide on the exit. He is off line for turn four and must lift to keep from going off track at the exit. He pounds through the gears as he watches the Vette close from behind. He is hot, worn out, and the tires are struggling for grip. She has the advantage. As he sweeps by the apex of five she is right on him. They roar through the S’s at 110 mile per hour. He’s a little loose on the exit and she ducks towards the inside to try a pass into turn eight.

Turn eight is a lousy place to pass and she blows it diving in to deep locking up under braking. As she sails past on the inside he is able to turn under her and pull off a slid job. She has pushed up out of the groove, and he turns for the apex and emerges from the corner still in the lead.

Sandy lies back on the next lap, cooling her tires for a last lap try.

They flash by the start finish line and get the white flag. Mac is in the lead by two lengths, Sandy has five on Roy, and he is secure with no pressure from behind.

“One more buddy screams Jerry. “Hold her off dude hold er off!”

Mac is sure she laid back the last lap to cool her tires for a big run on this the last lap of the race. She’s not close enough to make a try into turn one, so that only leaves her turns three and ten as chances for a clean pass. The tire advantage she had she appears to have used up in her aggressive attempts on the restart. So her only hope is to try to force a mistake, or to shove her way by. Well she’s not getting a mistake out of me today! Mac thinks to himself. She’s gonna have to force her way by, and that’s not like her. He grins to himself.

She cooks into turn three hard but is to far back to make the pass. They both exit onto the back straight and race down into turn five. Mac makes a slight error under braking locks up the left front and leaves a little opening. Sandy sticks her nose into the gap, but gets it chopped off as Mac aggressively slams the door shut. They make contact, trade some paint and blast off for the S’s.

Through the S’s they fly; left, g forces building, then right, both cars in classic full four wheel drift. The tires at their absolute abilities to hold the cars on the track. Through turn eight and turn nine she stays glued to his bumper. She gets a good run off of nine and slides right to set up an inside pass into ten. Mac goes right with her to block her inside move. She darts left looking at the outside, hoping Mac will go with her. He doesn’t, she’s out of time! She desperately swings back to the inside and misses her braking mark!

“SHIT!” she screams as she locks up her tires all four bellowing smoke as she plows into the rear of the Mustang!

“What the fu…Oh crap!” Mac shouts out loud. The car is spinning right and he frantically chases it with the wheel, cranking in full left lock. The spin continues…then suddenly the rear tires take a bite into the pavement and with the front tires turned full left the car snaps left and straight towards the outside wall.


CRASH!!!...and the world fades to black…

Um that’s a nice buckle there…wonder whose it is hehe…kinda looks like the one I have…that’s strange. What’s going on here…that is my seat belt buckle…I’m looking down at my crouch…nice pants dude… my arms are limp and hanging at my side…SHIT I’m knocked out! Where the hell am I…Oh ya the race!

Mac raises his head and looks out the windshield which is dislodged from its frame. The front of the car is twisted and crushed.

Ah there is the ambulance and fire truck…they are coming this way…good…I think I might need them…That’s really strange? The ambulance is going side ways…how the hell can it do that? Has the ambulance lost control and spun out…? Holly crap! I’m still moving…what’s that! The engine… it’s screaming…the car’s in gear…and I’m about to pile drive the ambulance!!!!

The realization of the situation snaps Mac back to the present, and he reaches up and swats the kill switch shutting off all power. The engine dies instantly and the mangled front end that has been digging up turf sending it flying through the air plows in deeply and grinds the car to a halt about thirty feet from impact with the ambulance. The medical crew that was scrambling away from the immanent crash, skids to a halt and reverses course. They sprint to the twisted and smoking Mustang.

“…Mac…Mac! Can you hear me…Jesus Mac are you all right!” The radio yells at him on it’s own internal battery. Mac realizes Jerry has been screaming at him for some time.

“Hey Jerry what’s up?”

“What’s up? What the hell is that supposed to mean, what’s up.” Jerry responds with disbelief. “Are you ok?”

“I uh think I took a little nap there for awhile. I have no idea where I’m at.” Mac responds.

“You’re at Lakeside Speedway; you just won the race, its Satur…”

“I know all of that Jerry. Where the hell am I at on the race track, and what do you mean I won the race?” Mac demands.

“Oh man it was great! You mean you don’t know what happened?” Jerry asks excitedly.

“Don’t have a clue. Guess I was out for a few seconds there. We won!?”

“Ya man! Sandy screwed up big time and hit you. You lost it and plowed into the fence.” Jerry explains, “It must have jammed the throttle wide open, cause that thing was screaming, bouncing off the wall all the way across the line! Parts were flying, smoken, crashing…we WON! I thought you were gonna crash the emergency crew for a second there.” Jerry giggles. “You sure you’re ok?”

“I think so. The medics are here. I’m gonna get out of this sweat box, hard to breath in here.” Mac responds.

As he moves to get out of the car he feels a sharp pain from his left foot. He looks down and can see day light coming from the foot well. The left front tire is where the clutch peddle is supposed to be.

“Ouch! My foot’s hurt guys.” He says to the rescue crew.

“How bad, can you tell if it’s broken?” asks the medic.

“Na I don’t think so, I can move it.” He responds, “Help me out of this damn thing, will ya?”

As they help him climb from the car Sandy comes running up and skids to a stop at his side. She grips his arm and helps lower him into a seating position next to the car.

“Oh Mac I’m so sorry! Are you ok?” she pleads. “I really messed that up, I didn’t mean it! Are you hurt Mac, are you hurt?”

“Calm down Sand Box, I’m gonna live.” He smiles at using the nick name he knows she hates. “A couple broken bones and scrambled brains never killed anyone.” He exaggerates hoping to get the rise out her he wants. It works…

“Oh you!” she responds and slaps the side of his helmeted head, “You’re just fine, as big an asshole as ever…but oh Mac your car. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey kid it’s not me you have to worry about. I’m pretty sure I caught Jerry making love to this thing one night.” He chuckles.

“Really?” She seriously considers that for a few seconds then, “Damn it Mac you’re just fine.” She says as she stands at his side hands planted to her hips.

“Come on help me get him to the ambulance.” The medic says to Sandy. “You think you can walk dude?”

“Ya I’m ok, help me up.” He says holding up his arms for aid.

They both take an arm and pull Mac to his feet. Sandy stands in front of him and works the strap free from his helmet. She pulls it off and looks into his eyes.

“I really am sorry Mac, I could have killed you.” She’s nearly crying.

Mac takes her face