In the (Feed)Zone
w/Mark Swartzendruber

Winona Jugg Criterium

Sunday - May 1, 11:45 a.m.

Hasfrau sat in stunned silence. Johnnie the Mole dropped to one kneed, raised the back of his right hand to his brow and began to weep softly. Smurphy was down on his knees, arms raised to the heavens with the glory of god shining 'round about his face and shit. C-Bizkit was dancing and leaping around the parking lot like a deranged leprechaun from a bad production of Riverdance, shrieking and giggling like a 6 year old girl on her first visit to the Michigan Ave. American Girl store. Billy Redbeard, was in full on OCD mode, counting the money for the 40th time, just to make sure he was right. One hundred, Two hundred, Three hundred, Four Hundred…..He'd finish, and then start counting again. Druber was standing over Billy Redbeard's shoulder, enjoying the happy scene. He told the boys this would happen and he was enjoying the warm fuzzy feeling of seeing his team mates in such a state of rapture. Druber imagined himself feeling the same sort of proud, vicarious exhilaration of a father who'd just bought his son a hooker for his 16th birthday and was now seeing his son for the first time post coitus. The faces of his team mates showed a sense of disbelief, wonder, amazement and an "Oh Boy! When can we do this again?" quality.

Team Delta had just taken 6 of the top 7 places in the Master's flail at the Winona Lake Criterium. Druber took a prime on lap 4 and shortly thereafter Hausfrau attacked on his way to lapping the field solo. The field detonated leaving a break consisting of 4 Deltas, and two intruders, Jeff Bourbonbanger from the TX Roadkill team and Slam Dunkit from the Honey Drippers. First Hausfrau fled the coup. He came back through the field and up to the break a half hour later with Smurphy, from the field on his wheel. Ten minutes later, Johnnie the Mole took off, Smurphy left a few laps after that and viola! Delta swept the podium clean. Druber, still in full flail as evidenced by the fact that at one point in the race 47 year old Billy Redbeard had to drop back from a break to give Druber a tow up, gave Redbeard 2 lap lead-out at the end but Bourbonbanger bested him for 4th. Redbeard was 5th, Druber 6th and C-Bizkit - 65 inches and 135 lbs of Chemical Fury- won the field sprint. It was an impressive showing. Bourbonbanger is flat out good, as shown by his V in the afternoon ProCrit, but 5 against one makes for long odds regardless of how good a street fighter you are.

Back to the story…What was the source of the glee in the parking lot post race? Were the boys ecstatic over the performance? No. Pleased, to be sure, but they're actually used to dominating Hooterville races. This was different though. This race was not on the schedule of the 317 area code World Cup. The joy seen in the parking lot was a result of having received the full payout advertised by the promoter on the race flyer. I've seen this happen before, but he Hooterville boys wouldn't believe me. I've urged them, implored them to race outside of the area code but many have refused. They'd tell me "Why, we have races every weekend that we never have to drive more than 45 minutes to get to. We have the Major Taylor Velodrome with track racing every Friday night right here in the geographical center of Hooterville. Why should we travel?" Johnnie the Mole piped in, "The tom trawl course is just teeyun mawls from home too."

Why indeed. I have heard savage complaints from many Hooterville racers in recent days. I've heard stories of disappointment, disillusionment and dismay. It goes like this. The boys show up for an area code 317 World Cup race with a posted payout of $500 10 places or some such. Just before the gun goes off, the commissar of the World Cup steps off of his perch and announces, "You're racing for $110; 3 places and free Shasta soda". "Oh…That and the primes are cancelled" "Oh yeah...The medical tent has been moved from turn 1 just past the start finish area to the Hospital E.R. two counties East of here. You'll have to make arrangements to get there in case of an incident." The boys would win the race, split $40 five ways which doesn't begin to cover the $30 entry fee and they'd complain fiercely when they got home. All the next week, E mails would fly, discussion boards would light up, and spleens would get vented. The next Saturday, like Charlie Brown gets tricked by Lucy into trying to kick the football, the same racers show up, memories of prior fleecing erased and the same story unfolds, week after week after week, year into year. Druber got tired of hearing it. Hausfrau has actually taken remedial steps after attending an Area Code 317 twelve stop program and doing 28 days in a 317 area code rehab clinic. He's started to travel, racing in Ohio, South Carolina, Tennessee and Missouri. The rest of the boys however continue to be caught in the self destructive behavior of area code racing. They're lives had become pictures of hopelessness and despair. They saw themselves as forever being dupes.

After the race C-Bizkit offered "I've heard you tell stories of races like these, but I thought they were myths, like Brigadoon." Smurphy: "It's too wonderous to be true. This is nearly better than getting tanked on Bourbon and having all night sex!" Billy Redbeard was still counting the money, "One Hundred, Two Hundred, Three Hundred, Four Hundred."

That's right gentlemen, and it's just as master's race!" "Think of the purse for the ProCrit!" Johnnie the Mole was on his trainer in an instant. Druber was scheduled for the ProCrit as well, but opted out due to lack of fitness, which fostered fear of embarrassment which in turn triggered psychosomatic symptoms of pain in his surgically repaired left knee, which has been fine for that past 2 season. Suddenly, it was starting to hurt as he remembered not being able to close a 10 second gap to a couple of over 45 year old team mates. "My knee hurts. I'm going home." "Someone shake Billy Redbeard and see if you can wrest the cash out of his hands. He's counted it so many times the dead presidents are starting to disappear."

Hausfrau was able to wake Billy Redbeard and the booty was split. C-Bizkit began dancing around the parking lot again. He was shrieking "We're rich! We're RICH!" "Smurph, see if you can settle C-Biz down a bit. He's starting to embarrass me." Druber had to remind the boys that "this stuff happens all the time in St. Louis, California, Ohio, Michigan, South Carolina, Wisconsin, Iowa, and Illinois and for god's sake even in Tennessee. If a promoter ever short changed the field, he'd get strung up in those places. Racers would boycott, but you Hootervillians are too docile. You're nice, but maybe too nice. Draw a line in the sand and don't put up with the abuse. You might have to check Truesport for some races out of your area code, but by God, you've seen here today, it's worth it."

The next day, Johnnie the Mole informed that by virtue of winning the creeyut and tom trawl stages of the Tour de 317 Area Code, he'd finished third for the stage race despite not showing for stage 3. He'd opted for Winona Lake instead. Johnnie also informed that the commissar of the Tour de 317 Area Code had cut the stage race payout to two (2) places, paying only the racers who did all three stages despite offerings on the race flyer to do "one, two or all three stages". It's a brutal world.