Shelby Manning (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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muserevival2015-09-08 10:26 pm
shelbycobra) wrote in muserevival2015-09-08 10:26 pm
100.3.3 - diary
Thinking of words I should've said
My phone is blowing up by the time I get back to Indianapolis. A couple of belated interview requests, a reminder of my meeting with Team Penske brass on Wednesday, friends still leaving messages to congratulate me. First came the Verizon IndyCar Series championship; now there's a lot more that has to be done because of it.
One of those things is to personally thank everyone who's responsible for my being here. Maybe that's overdoing it, but considering how many people reached a hand out to me when I needed it not so long ago, I feel like the least I can do now that I'm a champion is to say something. So I grab a Coke and crash on my couch with my cell phone.
It's easy enough to text my fellow IndyCar drivers, since we talk to each other more often than you think. We've been apart from each other for just barely a week and we're already making lunch dates and taking jabs at each other and discussing the rumors that have begun to swirl in the pages of Racer. The newest one is that I'm considering going to Ganassi, so maybe I shouldn't have thanked Scott in my acceptance speech. Oh well.
But it's much harder to make a phone call I've been thinking about for a few days now. Back to New York, back to a number I haven't dialed since I left the better part of a year ago. Maybe I should've called, but I went into my own world and forgot to come out. Ask my mother, because she didn't hear from me either. She had to learn everything from my dad. So it's not like I was ignoring Tobey; I just got distracted by my relentless pursuit of being an elite IndyCar driver.
We've gone our separate ways. Yet that doesn't mean he doesn't deserve for me to thank him for where I'm standing right now. When I was on my ass, angry and frustrated and with a huge chip on my shoulder, he pushed me to be a better racer. He became a friend. I learned a lot from him and everyone I met, most importantly that street racers can be just as talented as professional racers. If I hadn't learned to think differently, if I hadn't had to test myself in situations I never would've been in otherwise, I don't think I'd be wondering where to put the Astor Cup now.
This is why drivers refer to racing as a team sport. We might be the only ones in the cockpit, but we're not the only ones who have a hand in our success. I had a whip-smart strategist calling my races, a pit crew that was able to work in seconds led by a crew chief who refereed my arguments with the strategist, a spotter who never missed anything, and teammates who shared their data with me all season. And before that came a bunch of New York racers who'll never be mentioned in any Racer articles or press releases, but who saw me at my worst and not only didn't slap me, but helped me up off the mat.
As I skim my contact list to find Tobey's number for the first time in seven months, I just hope he's not angry at me for not keeping in touch, or thinking that I've turned my back on him because it's taken so long for me to call. He deserved not to fall through the cracks of my life, and he did and that's my fault. Maybe today I can start mending our friendship, or if nothing else, at least finally tell him 'Thank you.'
I put the phone to my ear and listen to it ring.
--
Shelby Manning Martin
Need For Speed OC
630 words
Tobey Marshall referenced is an NPC and not any specific muse.
My phone is blowing up by the time I get back to Indianapolis. A couple of belated interview requests, a reminder of my meeting with Team Penske brass on Wednesday, friends still leaving messages to congratulate me. First came the Verizon IndyCar Series championship; now there's a lot more that has to be done because of it.
One of those things is to personally thank everyone who's responsible for my being here. Maybe that's overdoing it, but considering how many people reached a hand out to me when I needed it not so long ago, I feel like the least I can do now that I'm a champion is to say something. So I grab a Coke and crash on my couch with my cell phone.
It's easy enough to text my fellow IndyCar drivers, since we talk to each other more often than you think. We've been apart from each other for just barely a week and we're already making lunch dates and taking jabs at each other and discussing the rumors that have begun to swirl in the pages of Racer. The newest one is that I'm considering going to Ganassi, so maybe I shouldn't have thanked Scott in my acceptance speech. Oh well.
But it's much harder to make a phone call I've been thinking about for a few days now. Back to New York, back to a number I haven't dialed since I left the better part of a year ago. Maybe I should've called, but I went into my own world and forgot to come out. Ask my mother, because she didn't hear from me either. She had to learn everything from my dad. So it's not like I was ignoring Tobey; I just got distracted by my relentless pursuit of being an elite IndyCar driver.
We've gone our separate ways. Yet that doesn't mean he doesn't deserve for me to thank him for where I'm standing right now. When I was on my ass, angry and frustrated and with a huge chip on my shoulder, he pushed me to be a better racer. He became a friend. I learned a lot from him and everyone I met, most importantly that street racers can be just as talented as professional racers. If I hadn't learned to think differently, if I hadn't had to test myself in situations I never would've been in otherwise, I don't think I'd be wondering where to put the Astor Cup now.
This is why drivers refer to racing as a team sport. We might be the only ones in the cockpit, but we're not the only ones who have a hand in our success. I had a whip-smart strategist calling my races, a pit crew that was able to work in seconds led by a crew chief who refereed my arguments with the strategist, a spotter who never missed anything, and teammates who shared their data with me all season. And before that came a bunch of New York racers who'll never be mentioned in any Racer articles or press releases, but who saw me at my worst and not only didn't slap me, but helped me up off the mat.
As I skim my contact list to find Tobey's number for the first time in seven months, I just hope he's not angry at me for not keeping in touch, or thinking that I've turned my back on him because it's taken so long for me to call. He deserved not to fall through the cracks of my life, and he did and that's my fault. Maybe today I can start mending our friendship, or if nothing else, at least finally tell him 'Thank you.'
I put the phone to my ear and listen to it ring.
--
Shelby Manning Martin
Need For Speed OC
630 words
Tobey Marshall referenced is an NPC and not any specific muse.