Summary
As I zipped the fire suit over my bulging belly and pulled the helmet over my Coke-bottle glasses, I thought that maybe, just maybe, I had finally found my sport.
Dreams of shooting a jump shot in the NBA or smacking a homer at Coors Field are long gone, but if a geezer like Mark Martin can be a professional race-car driver, why not me?See the full content of this document
Extract
Lack of Skills a Petty Detail
Such were my thoughts as I prepared to race around the one-mile oval at Pikes Peak Internat...
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