Jeff Gordon - The Test
Bastards. The Both of them.
Jeff had been busy in the winter calling people, sponsors, friends of peopl in the indycar world...The 1992 Indy Lights champion, naturally, wanted an Indycar seat, but not any seat. He knows he has the talent to be competitive, so he will not settle for a backmarker.
As such, he read every motorsports magazine, heard every discussion in Indiana, every report on ESPN, and made calls to any upper-mid tier Indy teams. Everytime, he was rejected, saying the same things: he didn't bring enough money, their lineup was full, he was too young, too inexperienced...
Two excellent opportunities came, however: Derrick Walker was looking for a driver to replace the declining and underwhelming Willy T. Ribs. That was Jeff's top priority, for Walker had a breakout year, winning both the Indy 500 and the Michigan 500 with Scott Goodyear, and they received lots of additional funding to run a competitive package for 1993.
The phone call went pretty well, with Derrick seeming like a nice man and willing to give him a chance. The Scotsman, who previously worked with Brabham and Penske, had the reputation of using unproven talent. After all, Scott Goodyear was previously just seen as a decent, if unremarkable driver, at Doug Shierson before becoming an overnight star after winning the Indy 500 and the Michigan 500 last year.
But then, on an episode of ESPN Speedworld, he saw that Walker signed John Andretti to drive the 17 car for the next three seasons. Jeff felt betrayed by this shocking news, tossing his pencil in frustration. Then, he received a phone call from one Bruce McCaw, a Seattle-based communications magnate who is entering Indycar next season. Jeff thought that the operation sounded promising: well-funded, a big sponsor in Visa and using the potent Galmer-Chevrolet of Galles Racing that almost won the championship as well as a decent crew of mechanics.
Bruce McCaw, founder and Owner of Pacwest Racing
Hopes of entering the series with them quickly fell apart, however, when McCaw politely announced that he was gonna go with some Brazilian guy named Gugelmin as their driver, because he brought more money than Jeff with Hollywood cigarettes.
Hanging up in disappointment, Jeff facepalmed as he took in all this info. When hecalemed down, however, he realised one thing: With John Andretti gone, that means the Jim Hall seat was available!
As such, Jeff gave the Hall office at GM a phone call...
A few weeks later, here he was, at Sonoma Raceway, for the test organised by the Hall VDS team to find out who will get to drive the #4 Lola-Chevrolet for the 1993 season. Jeff would have to face a formidable opponent to get the seat:
Teo Fabi, 1983 Indycar champion and former Indy 500 polesitter, has been seeking a seat after spending last year driving for Toyota in the World Sportscar Championship. With someone as experienced and renowned as him, Jeff knew he was facing a steep challenge. Especially since the first step was at a road course.
As they drove around the twisty grand prix circuit of Sonoma onboard last year's Lola T92/00-Chevrolet, it was clear that Fabi was the more experienced and skilled on road courses. Jeff, having to be used to the sheer soeeds and G Forces an Indycar makes, was initially slower than Fabi, as expected. However, he kept pushing and pushing the more laps he completed, and it gotten to the point where he started making laptimes that got closer and closer to Fabi's.
At Ontario Motor Speedway, however, Fabi and Jeff were much closer in laptimes. It heated up even more when Fabi managed to hit 230, which many thought would be hard to beat. That is underestimating Jeff Gordon, however. The kid pushed the car to its limit, managing.to get the engine up to 233, the smae top speed as Indy pole sitter Roberto Guerrero, at the backstraight before hitting 235 heading into the front straight, putting a lap time that Fabi simply couldn't match.
Sweating like a pig, Jeff was greeted by the team's crew, who gave both hima nd Favi some much needed water and a towel. After a few friendly discussions between the drivers and the crew chiefs, Jeff went back home in Indiana, eagerly awaiting the final verdict and watching Speedworld for any updates.
And then, one morning, the phone rang. With his heart pounding, Jeff picked it up.
"Hello?"
"Is this Jeff Gordon speaking?"
"Yes..."
"Hi, Jeff! It's Jim Hall..."
Late February 1993 : Ontario Motor Speedway.
The bright, Yellow flash heading down the front straight passed by almost at the speed of sound, its V8 turbo engine screaming across the desert as it glided into the first two turns like a leaf in thin air. Jim Hall looked on, his glasses reflexting the bright California sun as the Lola T93/00 passed him by again. Losing a talented driver like John Andretti, who brought the team its first win since 1983 and back to regular top 5 finishes, was a hard blow, and he knew that the decision he took a few days ago would decide if the team will continue on this run of momentum in 1993.
As the #4 Pennzoil machine arrived in the pits, the engine slowly purred down in volume until, with one flock of the switch, it went dead. The crew pushed the car back into its container, cleaning it and putting the thick, grey blanket over it tonpreserve its freshness. The driver, whose face was obscured by his helmet, approached a smiling Jim Hall, who looked on with satisfaction.
"I'll be honest with you." Jim said. "There are other drivers i considered. Some are faster, more reliable and more experienced. Solid, proven hands that could drive that thing like it's nothing."
The driver then removed his helmet, wiping the sweat off his short hair.
"But I like you, kid...I like you a lot...something tells me you're gonna be better than all of them. It ain't a question of if, it is a question of when...You'll give it your 110%. That's what i expect from everyone in this team. The pit crew, the mechanics and, above all, the driver."
"I will, sir." Jeff said, all smiles.
"I know you will..." Jim responded, patting the young man's shoulder. "...And please, stop it with that "Sir" crap. Call me Jim. I ain't Penske!"
TO BE CONTINUED...