From WERA Corner Worker in 1999 to Double Champion in 2000
by Robby Card

Well, for me, getting invited to the WERA Grand National Finals was kind of like getting hooked up with a really hot date. You get real nervous when you receive the invitation. Everybody starts telling you're plenty man enough, she'll love you - just execute properly, curl her toes, and every chick in town will know your name. They'll be knocking down your door afterwards; no worries, you're the man. Yeah, right.

It was almost that way with me. For weeks I was worried about what I'd do, how I'd approach it. Was everything ready? Could I go fast enough? How in the hell did I get into this shit? Was eight months of racing enough preparation for the one day of do or die, winner take all format against the collective national novice club racing competition? I exercised with increased vigor, had visions of going wheel-to-wheel with Allen Goodwin, Joe Cupido, and Chris Thompson, spent hours looking at my motorcycle, checking bolt tension, cleaning various bits, and tweaking one thing or another in hopes of gaining another tenth or so on the racetrack. The closer the day came, the more I ground my teeth at night, slept less and less, and couldn't concentrate like I should at work. I loaded the trailer the same day I left for Road Atlanta, between work and the monthly sales meeting I had to conduct that Monday night, rushing the whole time, same as before every race it seems, getting everything I thought I might possibly need stuffed in there in less than an hour.

I guess most people have ridden an old 4-stroke with a decompression lever. They're great for downhill engine braking and cutting power mid-turn when you found yourself in too hot. That's what Tuesday practice was; a good pull on the lever to decompress the mind. Forget about neglected work, race strategy, and all the other bullshit that seemed to be increasingly mounting lately. Go out and ride. There was frost on the track for the first session of the morning, and brave men were standing around whimpering about possible crashes due to tire temps, cold track, and school riders getting in their way. Time to shove off. Thank god I went out the first session; a lot of guys didn't. The tensions of the preceding weeks melted away along with the frost as I starting getting up to speed. This isn't so hard, just find some reference points on the racetrack for braking, get adjusted to the speed according to each corner and shred some rubber. I found the right gear and figured out how to get through a couple of sections I had been having trouble with before. I was basically by myself for the day; nobody got a watch on me, so it was hard to measure productivity, but I knew things were pretty good and the bike was near flawless.

WERA practice went well on Wednesday. We're broke up by classes so you can gauge speed with fellow competitors for the following day. Everything checks out good. Joe Cupido has obviously done some work to his SV - it backfires everytime he shifts and has a slightly different sound to it than my bike does. Stripped airbox and Flatslides, I found out at the end of the week. I could draft him, but not pull out and pass down the back straight. Joe's fast, but he's prone to mistakes and over-excitement. Somehow, me and Chris "Sid-Man" Thompson didn't hook up in practice like we usually do, so I have no idea how he's running. He's a crafty veteran who plots strategy better than some pro riders, probably, so who knows what he's up to. At Atlanta Motor Speedway earlier in the year, he allowed a fledgling novice (guess who) to believe he was running faster than anyone else on practice day. He then proceeded to ply said novice with tequila drinks that night until he was full of visions of glory and victory, only to thoroughly whip the young novices hang-dog ass the next day. Lesson learned: save the serious partying for non-race weekends. So Wednesday left me feeling confident, but still skeptical for race day.

First race, same as always, D-Superbike. I'm gridded back in the third row. Several other non-southeast competitors are in front of me. Guys who won their respective regional championships, but people I'd never raced against. Notables were Randy Moran, reported fast guy on an SV, and Thad Halsmer and Jason Temme on FZR400's. I got a good launch (practice at Brainerd Drag Strip pays off), and led lap 1. If there's any place I consistently beat out the other guys this year, it would have to be starts. Going 1st into turn one is a huge advantage that most people seem to underestimate. I had been concentrating on the 2nd and 3rd turn combo most of the week, and it was paying off. I was still a little slow in 5, but otherwise was killing most everybody on the front side of the track. The back straight was another matter. Thad and Jason had my ass back there. A lot of shit has been thrown around this year, since I got the SV, about my motor, but let me take this opportunity to dispel all myths pertaining to such: my motor is stock. Most SV's stock come in around 68 rwhp. With a M4 and a little carb tweaking, you get somewhere around 70-72. The little 'zuke weighs in about 430 lbs. in street form, very close to race weight when you hang aftermarket body work on it, and strip off any unnecessary items. On paper, it's a fizzer-eater, for sure, but where it matters, on the racetrack, 1mm overbore 400's with a little massaging will eat it up on the straight parts. (Chris is now pulling his hair out his head after reading the proceeding comments, probably mumbling something about 55hp!, 55hp!, damn-it!). Jason had prepped his bike well, and was eating my lunch from 7 to 10. We swapped the lead at least 10 times throughout the 8 lap sprint, but towards the end I built about a 8 bike-length lead on him and held it. Race over, D-Superbike National Champion, yee-hahhhh! Early on in the race, Chris's motor went south, ending his weekend and a phenomenal racing season for him.

Lightweight Twins fielded a huge grid, the largest I'd ever been in. Third row again on the start, third into turn 1 and quickly into the novice class lead. This was a shake-out race for the Suzuki Cup riders(experts) who would go head to head on Sunday, so the pace was quick. I ran scared all race, weeding through experts with my mind on any novices behind me who might try and take the win after I got in front, but no one came around. Joe was the closest competitor, but he ran off into the kitty-litter in 10a somewhere mid-race and never threatened. I turned my fastest laps of the weekend, 1:36's, without once checking my back to see if anyone was closing from behind. Pirelli tires are the shit, but even great tires give up after repeated flogging, and so mine started going away somewhere around half-way. You expect to slide coming out of 7 and 10b, but when you feel the rear coming around going under the Michelin bridge, something is wrong. I almost high-sided while looking down into T12, puckered for an instant or two and got back on the gas down the hill. Time to be a little more throttle conscious and settle down. I got by most of the expert class, Biddy, Garvin and Earnhardt and was in sight of what would be Sunday's Cup podium riders at the checkers. Chalk up a second National Championship, with somewhere around a 25 second margin over the closest Novice riders (Joe and Allen) at the end. Some guy came up to me at post-race tech and started asking questions. I thought he was a WERA tech guy and I was in a rush to get ready for the next race. I answered a couple and then told him I needed to go change a tire, was he done? Later, I realized he was the RoadRacing World reporter, and I had just blown him off. He asked if I had thought of competing in the Suzuki Cup Sunday as a novice, and I smartly told him that the rules didn't allow for that and that I had work to do in the pits before the next race. He grinned as I pulled off, unknowingly screwing myself out of an interview and the possibility of getting the rules bent so I could compete against Acree, Ledesema, and Yakkov on Sunday.

Formula 2 - I got the rear tire changed before the race (thanks to Bill!) and had confidence going into the race. By lap 2, me and Jason were playing cat and mouse again. About lap 3, my windscreen started clouding up with fluid. I was leading at the time, and felt good about the race. Then I started doing silly things. Missing shifts, running in too deep, etc... I wondered what that fluid was getting all over my face shield. It didn't take too many breathes to realize it was gas. It was the same thing that had happened a few weeks earlier at Savannah. The duct-tape remedy had not held and the fuel tank overflow line had broken loose from the tank again. Slightly high on fumes and mostly pissed off that I had forgotten to fix this most simplest of things, I settled into a moderate pace and finished second. Luckily, uncrashed and runner-up.

Post race. Proceed to tech and tear down the bike (according to WERA's D-super mandate). Borrowing tools from Wayne Gaylord and a stand from Tim, still buzzing from race wins and high-test Amoco, I was cleared as legal, and got ready to pack up and go home. The ICRs in attendance were clapping as I got back to the pits. I felt like a whooped-pup, and their support through the week had been inspiring. I loaded up and headed back to Cleveland a two-time champion. It doesn't get much better than this!

I owe a lot of thanks to Mark, Chris, and Patrick for teaching me the trade, so to speak, this year. There's a ton of things you can't learn just by riding the bike or making laps, and they dispensed plenty of wisdom to help get me up to speed. Also, to all the guys who came out to watch us ride this year, thanks!

So to recap the year: 13 total race wins, 2nd place Formula 2 regional points, 3rd place in D-super regional points, 2 National Championships and one Championship runner up. I guess you could say I curled her toes.

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