Ready? Go! The light changes to green. The cars accelerate as they turn sideways sliding around the track. Then I look to the back and there he is, my brother Jarrod. He is in our brand new late model race car, number 11, it barely has a scratch on it. It has a small block 602 motor running on E85, plenty to keep up with the competition tonight. This is his first heat race. Our other friend, Pat is also out there returning for a second season of racing pro’s. His car is also running a 602 motor, but on race gas. There isn’t much of a difference except Pat is in second, Jarrod opted for last. The lights shut off and the five second countdown starts, then they go green. All the car's launch off around a corner, but newbie Jarrod hangs back. We had been training him for months prior, why wasn't he going? He slowly gets faster. Why is he driving high? He was too far up on the track and started getting in faster cars way. Then the racing is over. Me, my dad, and Fred go back to our trailers to wait for him and Pat. Pat had almost won coming within 0.019 seconds of the leader. Not quite the length of a fender. Pat gets here first. He is happy with the way the car performed only one minor adjustment was needed. Then Jarrod pulled into the pit. He was mad. “The car isn’t right!” he said over and over. Jarrod had never worked on the car, nor did he know what was wrong. So I figured the car was too tight and we loosened the rear end to it could turn better. After getting that switched it was almost time to go out for the second and final heat race of the night. Once again Jarrod opted for last, but Pat drew fifth place. Once everyone was on the track and ready to go. The lights turn off, countdown starts and they are racing. Jarrod start quicker this time, but is still not able to keep up with the rest. Within two laps couple racers had pulled off the track for mechanical reasons. That meant the Jarrod was in fifth place and Pat was in third passing for second. As I watch Pat make his move out of the corner of my eye, I can see Jarrod. He was trying hard to stay with the group, but it wasn't happening. With two laps to go it happened. Jarrod was right behind the guy who had passed him for fifth place. As he tried to keep up Jarrod lost control on corner three. He slid the car into the wall, pretty hard in turn four. As we watch with dismay a tow truck goes and brings him to our pit. Pat pulls in right behind him. As he climbs out (by that we can tell he not hurt, he got out so fast) we run up to him. The panhard bar and rear right shock were destroyed. The body was scratched, dented, and torn all down the right side of the car. We limp it on our trailer and drive to the shop. The next day i’m in our shop dismantling the back of the car. As I sit there wrenches in my hands, turning black with dirt and grease, I think to myself “This is where I belong.”