[nascarfan24]

I had to write a simple modern day fairy tale for one of my classes and I wrote a Nascar version. it's not that great and I didn't give it 100% effort. It may sound weird to a Nascar fan but it's really hard to explain drafting to people who have no clue what Nascar is even about. But don't bother telling me what to change because by the time you read this it will already be turned in. So just tell me what you think, Thanks!

Speedy Sam

The young man stared down at the carpet floor, which his feet were resting upon. He was trying to focus on the task before him. He felt like yesterday the season had ended, when the final event was over three monthes ago. He preformed decently last year, not great but not bad. He won Rookie of the Year so maybe this season would be promising. The motorcoach door suddenly opened and Bill walked in. "You ready?" he asked with his southern accent and deep voice. "I'm ready, how 'bout you and the guys?" the young man asked. "Don't you worry 'bout us, Sam, just focus on the race" Bill said answered as he smiled and gave him a thumbs-up. "And whatever ya do, don't let Smith get in ya head agian. 'Member what NASCAR gave ya last time? Twenty-five big ones, don't let it happen again" he remarked as he left the motorcoach. Just the name Smith frustrated Sam. He remembered last year in Talladega, he was racing closely behind John Smith in the closing laps. Entering turn three, Sam went to the left of Smith for the pass. When he was dead even with Smith, Sam heard Bill over the radio, "He's still there, careful, and you're all clear buddy." Hearing this Sam knew he had completed the pass. Suddenly Smith's black A1 Steak Sauce sponsered Chevrolet filled Sam's rearview mirror and he was terrified. He felt a sudden bump and was instantly traveling sideways at one hundred-ninety miles per hour, heading straight for the outside wall. When Sam's Burger King sponsered Chevrolet hit the wall one of the TV announcers exclaimed, "That car just got Whoppered! Yeah, I know that was terrible.." as the car begun to spin so violently that Sam was begining to lose conciousness. All of the sudden, his car was in the grass below the track with track officials and medics running toward him. he remembered what had happened and became filled with rage. He flipped the ignition switch and the engine roared to life. He slammed the shifter into first ger and mashed the gas pedal. At first he wasn't making much progress because his tires with out tread aren't really meant for off-road use. The fact that his right front tire was completly ripped off and the cars whole front end was basicaly destroyed didn't help the matter any, either. When the car finally arrived on the racing surface, he looked left and saw the pace car leading the other forty-two cars at about forty miles per hour. He saw Smith's car right behind the pace car and waited until he passed. Sam mashed the gas and slammed into Johns rear bumper at about one hundred twenty miles per hour. Both cars spun around a couple times and came to rest in the grass, both of them completly totaled. Sam unhooked himself as fast as he could and climbed out of the car, Smith was doing the same. Both drivers, helmets still on their heads, ran at each other and started shoving and punching, swears and insults muffled by their helmets. Eventually track officals broke up the fight but NASCAR wasn't too happy about the little altercation. They slapped both drivers with $25,000 fines and suspened same for the next two races. And Jessica wasn't too extatic eaither. Sam had been trying to impress the journalist. That had been talking often but after that incident, she thought he was imiture.

Then reality kicked in as the motorcoach door slamed open again, "Come on kid! Let's get goin'!" Bill exclaimed, "we don't have all day!" Sam jumped from the couch and zipped up his jumpsuit. He followed Bill down to pit road where his crew was preparing for the five hundred mile race.
They prayed together and listened to the Star Spangled Banner. But still all Sam could think about was the incident four months ago. How could he lose his cool, $25,000, and Jessica in just five minutes? The fighter jets flying over brought him back to reality. "I've got to stop daydreaming..." he thought. He climbed into the car after hi-fiving his crew and the BK King (one of his sponser's marketing ideas), and then admired the giant Burger King logo on the hood of his car. A smile came upon his face as Adam Sandler screamed, "Gentlemen, start your engines!" Sam was a fan of his so this was quite a treat. As he drove onto the track, he stared at Smith's bumper with eagerness. When the green flag flew into the air, Sam thought, "Okay. This is the Daytona 500. Don't blow it." As the day progressed, Sam stayed behind John, just waiting. The TV commentators were all supprised by Sam Walton's maturity, as were the reporters, journalists, and Jessica. Towards the end of the day Bill came on over the radio, "Sam, there's someone that wants to talk to you" When Sam heard Jessica's soft voice, he jumped a little in his seat. "Sam, I'm truley impressed but I don't think you're evening trying to win. But if you can finish well, driving clean, I think we can talk agian." Sam knew she was right, he wasn't giving 110%. He wasn't even giving 90%. But this was on purpose. Bill came back on the radio agian, "Oh... Sam's got a little fan... But don't get too confident, kid." As the laps wound down, Sam eventually was racing in the second position with Smith leading. Sam suddenly became more scared than he had ever been. He saw the flagman waving the white flag. This is the end. One lap to go. The race went by so fast. "It's now or never" he thought and slowly pushed the pedal to the floor as the engine sounded releaved, like the eight hundred-ten horsepower monster tricked him into going faster. As both drivers started going into turn one, Bill started screaming, "Go! Pass em! Come on kid! Go faster! My grandma drives faster than you when she's in a school zone!" Sam took a deep breath and slowly said over the radio, "Bill, if you don't shut your mouth and stop screaming in my ear, I'm going to come down there and deck ya!" There was silence over the radio. Sam's pit crew were snickering at Bill on pit road as he smiled and shook his head. "Finally, some peace and quiet," Sam thought as he rapidly approached Smith's rear bumper, the monster under his hood screeming with confidence. Sam's bumper made contact with Smith's on the back straightaway, but he didn't bump him. He pushed him. Sam looked through John's rear window into his rear view mirror. He saw John's eyes. He looked confused and terrified at the same time. He saw John's lips mouthing some curse words from their last encounter. Then everyting clicked in Sam's mind. Daytona International Speedway is a high-banked superspeedway that is 2.5 miles long. Speeds average about one hundred-ninety miles per hour. The key to winning here is using the draft to your advantage. Sam could remember learing those facts at a young age. He knew he couldn't win the race. He knew he couldn't win here for Bill, his crew, Jessica, or any of his fans. But he knew how he could still victorious. He couldn't win the race, but the air could be victorious for him. Sam was no engineer, but he knew about anything he had to do to win, no matter how complex. Sam remembered teaching a class for a day at the University of North Carolina. He taught about the physics and techniques of racing to any kid that signed up for the class. After all that's where he met Jessica. She was teaching about journalism in racing. But that's another story for another time and place. He taught the kids that engines don't win races (no matter how evil the little demons are), aerodynamics do. Sam showed the kids how air affects how the car handles. He also taught them to form an alliance with the very air you're battling. "As a car travels forward, it cuts through the air" Sam explained. "Now picture this" he said, smiling at the kids. "If car is following behind another car, how hard does the car in back have to work?"

A young boy raised his hand and answered, "Well, if that happened, wouldn't the car in front be cutting the air for the car in back?" "Exactly!" Sam exclaimed, "if we need to dig a hole in the ground and you're doing all the digging, how much do I have to do? None." He turned around again and smiled to the kids, "Now picture this..." He explained that the engine in the following car doesn't have to work as hard, pleasing the monster and encouraging the creature to work harder. "So basicly, you are going faster than the lead car?" asked one girl. "Exacly. And once you catch that car, you can pass them like they were standing still. They call this move a slingshot" Sam said with a wry smile, like this was a well guarded secret, even though everyone and their brother hew about this technique. Bill's silence didn't last long, "Kid!?! What on God's green earth are you doing!?! Why don't you just push him all the way to the trophy!?! Pass the man! Sam suddenly snapped back into the driver's seat, leacing that classroom far away. Sam liffted off the accelerator and watched Smith's rear bumper started leaving the scene. Cameras caught Bill's wide eyes and rant of swears and questions as one of the TV commentators exclaimed, "Looks like Walton blew an engine! Or should I say his engine is Flame Broiled? No laughs? Sorry..." But back in the car Sam just smiled. Aproaching turn three, he pushed the pedal down so far that he thought his foot would crash thgough the floor and scrape the asphault below. He even scared the monster under his hood. He knew John was scared too because same was approaching fast. Coming out of turn four and onto the final streatch, he was about to turn John's back bumper into a pancake, he sceamed on the radio, "Slingshot, baby!" Same pulled along side Smith and saw the checkered flag calling him. "It's going to be a drag race to the line!" yelled one of the TV commentators, "or should I say-" The other two shot him a look that made him take his pun no further. Smith began to slam Sam's car, but Sam just smiled. So did Bill, the crew, Jessica, the two TV announcers that didn't rely on puns to entertain the world, and all of Sam's fans. Sam never did slam Smith's car, he just started laughing. Both cars passed the finish line dead even. "Who won?" yelled one fan. "Walton!" yelled one fan and another yelled, "Smith!" Track security had to break up the riot of fans who apparently disagreed on who the victor was. Then the track loud speakers cleared up the problem, "Sam Walton wins the Daytona 500!" Sam, Jessica, the TV announcers, and the BK King, still on pit road, all smiled (but the King is always smiling so that wasn't anything special, but he did start doing cart-wheels in celebration). Bill, the two hundred pound man of pure muscle, complete with beard and tatoos head to toe, was bawling like a baby. Sam drove into Gatorade Victory Lane with fans cheering, the BK King giving him a thumbs-up, Bill being consoled by the crew, and Jessica beaming. He jumped out of the car into a waterfall of confetti and champagne. Jessica ran up to him and jumped on to him, giving him a hug. "I knew you had changed. I'm sorry about not staying with you" she said as Smith walked into the party. He swung at Sam but missed because, of course, Sam had lightening fast reflexes. Bill grabbed him by the collar and babbled, "You're lucky because if these tears weren't in my eyes, I'd hit ya so hard your grandkids would feel it!" Jessica ran over and yelled, "I can't believe you John! We're through!" But Sam walked over and extended his had to John, "nice job, man." The two men shook hands and smiled. "I want you to come fishing with me sometime" John offered. Bill kept weaping on the BK King's shoulder and Jessica was beaming. The crew was getting crazy and Sam thought he should go calm them down. Sam Walton was later was crowned season champon that year and many more years to come. He continued to promote Burger King and became good friends with John Smith. They raced together for years before becoming teammates for the racing team Walton would start. Always looked forward to each race and racing with Smith and Sam Jr.,much to Jessica's dismay. And in the words of that third TV commentator (without a Burger King pun), they all lived happily ever after.

[PettyBlue]

Before I answer I would ask, what school/grade/subject was this written for?

[nascarfan24]

High School, Language Arts

[PettyBlue]

At all times give 100% to what you do.You mix a bit of fact with fiction which I like but as this is a fairy tale as you state, I am not sure how your teacher will take it.Proofread your work after it is written but only after you walk away from it for a half to a full day,there are some mistakes that you missed.Even let someone else read it first as a fresh set of eyes can work wonders.The work is a tad long so try not to draw it out but get to the point.All in all good job by you.

[nascarfan24]

Originally Posted by PettyBlue

At all times give 100% to what you do.You mix a bit of fact with fiction which I like but as this is a fairy tale as you state, I am not sure how your teacher will take it.Proofread your work after it is written but only after you walk away from it for a half to a full day,there are some mistakes that you missed.Even let someone else read it first as a fresh set of eyes can work wonders.The work is a tad long so try not to draw it out but get to the point.All in all good job by you.

1. I couldn't give 100% because I had only one day to do it and many other things to do.
2. I recieved an A on the paper, but after I posted the story, I did proof read it, but didn't come back on to the forum to correct it.
3. Other students liked it, and it was the shortest in the class with the best grade in the class! But thank you very much for your opinion and suggestions!