The Thrill of Victory and the Agony of Defeat

I was going to do this last post on the race as an announcer dude at the Indy 500 and interview our driver and promote his sponsors. Sadly it would only put salt to the wounds. Humor is not quite needed for this post

We first came to check in with much nervous anticipation. I was concerned about the wheels and the weight. I mentioned that I messed with the wheels alot. They just didn't seem to spin as fluent as last years and I could tell they were rubbing on the sides. You have to understand the dynamics of our little car. Picture a wooden block shaped like a 1980's box style police car. The black plastic wheels are hammered in with small tack nails between grooves already created. Check in passed with flying colors, weight and measurements were perfect. I kind of laughed because the dude who was checking us in was the guy who helped us build our car at the workshop. If we didn't pass, I was gonna tell him it was his fault.

The sad thing is there are dads out there who are possessed obsessed with this race a hundred times more than I will ever be. They also have the knowledge and know how to make a fast car and win. It's all about the win for them. How much time did their child spend on the car? Most likely very little, maybe enough to sand the wheels and watch dear old dad do the rest. Lucky for them they can cut a aerodynamic car and lube those wheels to practically drive it on top of water.

I can read every article on the Internet and still have no clue how lubed I need those wheels or which design would be perfect to go fast. The thing is I let GB decide what kind of car he wanted to make. He wanted to stand out from the rest in hopes that if he wasn't fast, at least he could win the judges on style.

When we got to the race, none of the cars really stood out to me. They all looked pretty much the same. All shiny and polished and built for speed. I thought deep inside that GB's car was unique. It wasn't the most shiny car or sporty looking. It looked like a police car that an 8 year old kid painted and designed himself, with maybe just a little help from mom. I had a small glimmer of hope that maybe the judges would see that uniqueness, that diamond in the rough. It obviously wasn't the diamond the judges were looking for.

Our little police car chugged down the track like the little engine that could, coming in dead last in every heat. It was heart breaking. We felt we did everything right that we could do, only to be disappointed. It's sad when your 3 year old notices and tells his big brother. "Your car didn't go very fast."

Since I had to take C to the airport I left GB at the race so he could see if there was any hope for him to place in style. I hurried back after seeing C off. GB came running to us as soon as we arrived with tears in his eyes. "I didn't win anything mom, I was dead last in everything." My heart of course broke into a million pieces. I just wanted to cry with him. I knew we both put in equal time together on our little diamond and losing just really sucked.

Of course hubs and I told him from the get go, that it wasn't about the winning, it was the fun and quality time together that mattered. It still doesn't make things any easier. Next year hubs promised me that he would "help" out more and he's already got a plan on how to cut it to make it fast. He knew I hurt as much as GB.

We headed to Sonic after the race to heal our wounds. It was a great day to just be outside for a change. We immediately felt better already. Every thing's better when Root 44 Dr. Pepper and cherry slushies are involved.

GB seems to be completely over it. Here I sit sobbing on my soap box wallowing in the agony of defeat. We're still victorious in my book though. But it's still going to take me a few days to get over the loss.