Trackside

Speedweeks

What was the first race of the 2006 Piston Cup season like? A short fic for my friend 

_

"We're live in three... two... "

The red light turns green as words stream across the teleprompter in the background. The words themselves serve as a signal for action, but nothing more. They'd not been adhered to in years.

"Welcome back, race fans, we're coming to you live from Florida International Speedway, here to kick off the start of the Piston Cup racing season! I'm Bob Cutlass, joined with – wait, Darrell? Has anyone seen Darrell?"

The smoothly oiled machine that is RSN broadcasting cut directly from Bob in the studio to a mob of eager race fans gathered near the garages. Perfectly on cue, the camera streams convene on a split screen and the fans watching at home are graced with a side-by-side view of the booth and America's favorite race reporter. Seamless. Expected. No one bothers to give it second thought.

"Kori?" Bob asks. "Any sight of Darrell? We seem to have... misplaced him."

The small teal sedan flashes a quick smile and turns to the crowd behind her.

"Has anyone seen Cartrip? Darrell? Where is he?"

The mob moves as one and gestures off-screen to Kori's right, cheering and whistling. A few cars move to the side as the glittering, flame emblazoned, retired racer emerges from among them wearing sunglasses that are shaped like the speedway and drinking some undisclosed fluid out of an opaque container.

"Darrell!" Kori exclaims with as much false surprise as she can muster. "Where've you been?"

"I been right here this whole time! Hangin' out with the fans!" he responds with Tennessean gusto. "Y'all ain't losing me this time. There's no Celine Scion concert around this weekend – "

"What – what are you wearing."

"We're on Daytona Beach, baby! It's time for the 500! We all been sittin' around all winter with nothin' to do, Kori, let's go see what's happenin' around the garage. The racers are chompin' at the bit to get out there on the track. Come on, camera guy! Let's go talk to 'em."

Darrell removes his sunglasses, throws them to a nearby fan, leaves his drink behind and makes a beeline for the nearest garage stall. Kori shrugs a sigh of relief as her cameraman takes off to follow Cartrip instead, ending her air time for the moment.

"What's it gonna be next time, Bob?" she asks over their private comm. "We're running out of Where's Waldo ideas for this old goof."

"Eh, let him have his fun. One day we'll miss him."

_

Sounds of pit guns and the scent of race gas fill the air and mix with the salty beach breeze. There's not a single cloud marring the sky, a forecast that isn't supposed to change. February doesn't feel this good anywhere else in the world.

"Florida! It doesn't get any better than this, I tell you what," Darrell takes it all in as he approaches the nearest garage bay. "Let's see who we got around here. Oh! Look! Hey Shiftright – Kevin! Come 'ere."

The camera crew pushes their way through what's clearly a private team meeting. One of the pitties thinks quick and reaches over to turn off the screens they'd been analyzing. The trace data from practice earlier that day doesn't need to be in the background of any cameras, especially RSN's.