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Aussie Wide Open - WARRIOR...

WARRIOR...


In the oppressive Iowa summer heat a warrior sits and waits.

Strapped tightly in, the 'office' is becoming a furnace as he prepares for hot laps - how appropriate that term is at the world famous Knoxville Raceway in August.

Even the races are called 'heats'.

Beads of sweat drip from his face as he casts a weary eye over his rivals.

Those kids.

Those kids with no mortgage.



No fear.

No responsibility.

He was one of those young bucks too.

One of those tearasses.

One of those with the wind in their hair, without a care in the world and with a giant pair of size nine's that he wanted to plant any established hero's ass.

He was the one with single-minded dreams.

With a selfishness that it takes to be one of the best in this brutal game.

Now he has two of those kids himself.

Now he watches over his cubs as they seek to take the Sprint Car jungle.

His Dad was a badass.

That's where he got it from.

He was a hard man.

He spoke from the hip and he never wasted words.

Fighting was nothing personal.

In many ways, after Leonard's passing, it still isn't.

It's what you did, and it's what you do.

McCarl knows that his years in a race-car, running the boards and whistlin er' in on the cushion, are sands in an hourglass.

He's made friends.

He's made enemies.

He still makes both to this day.

His fans are passionate, obstinate and steadfast.

So are his family.

He offers no apology.

He's a wheeler and a dealer.

He doesn't whisper - I don't think he knows how, nor does he see a need to.

He's a salesman.

An antagoniser.

An aggressor.

A Hall of Famer.

A veteran.

He's been in this game his whole life.

He knows a lot of other things, but he knows this life best.

It's a life that has been good to him but it's cost him plenty too.

There have been run-ins.

Run-outs.

And race wins.

A lot of race wins.

The focus is on his sons now.

On building them a solid foundation for the future.

He knows he'll always push it to the floor but he knows that it's not about him as much anymore.

The man in the #4 casts a wary eye over the landscape in front of him at Knoxville Raceway.

Sweat trickles down his face.

He's been there and he's done most of it.

He's a warrior...

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