BEST OF JODY’S BOX: MEMORABLE QUOTES TO LIVE YOUR LIFE BY

By Jody Weisel

If a competitor compliments your riding style, compliment him on his. That’s called tit-for-tat. If he insults your riding style, compliment his. That’s called sarcasm. Never compliment your own riding style. That’s called being a factory rider.
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There’s no such thing as a loner. At least I don’t know any.
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A few short years on the AMA National circuit can turn the nicest minicycle kid into a shallow, greedy, lecherous, egotistical party animal—if he has the speed to support the lifestyle.
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If you want to know what motocross is all about…talk to the oldest racer at the track. He has never been sidetracked by gold earrings, flat-billed caps, regrettable tattoos or kaleidoscope clothes. He just wants to race one more moto.
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When you pull off the track and the guy behind you pulls up next to you and yells, “Great race!”…it may not have been a great race until that very moment.
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If I knocked down every person who ever made me angry in the middle of a race…I wouldn’t feel any better than I did after letting the air out of their tires between motos.
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Only a motocrosser could break off $30 worth of levers, wear the knobs off a $95 tire, burn up $20 worth of fuel and then wave around a fourth-place check for $50 and think he made money.
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When someone asks for your autograph…you are the one who gets something valuable.
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Only in professional motocross can misfits rise to become icons—with no more qualifications than the ability to do something on Sunday, in the middle of nowhere, that has no societal consequence, in front of a handful of people, who aren’t really watching, better than the rest of the misfits.
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If I have all week to work on my bike before a big race, I get less done than when I only have one hour on Saturday night.
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People who think too much end up living longer, making more money, vacationing in Tavarua, marrying wisely and investing well—but they don’t clear as many doubles.
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The only thing that changes with time is the last two digits on the year. Back in ‘71, bikes cost too much, the AMA was inept, the water truck was broken, the purses were a joke, the trophies were small, tracks were one-lined and there were a lot of cherry-pickers. Thankfully, none of that is true today.
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Never tell your mechanic that you think the dogs on third gear are worn out before checking to see if there are any teeth on your countershaft sprocket.
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Every racer has a faulty calculator in his head. When you are fifth, it thinks you’re third. When you’re tenth, it thinks you are 20th. That calculator is only accurate when you jump the gate or get stuck in it.
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It is sheer arrogance to develop a mechanical problem that you cannot afford to fix.
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Roger DeCoster once told me, “You don’t have to ride so dirty, but it is fun to watch.”
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I’ve ridden more works bikes than anyone on the planet. They made me faster. Well, more accurately, they made me shut off faster.
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Guys with natural talent make me sick. They don’t have to try. They were born fast. They make me want to puke. My talent is relative to the amount of bad luck that befalls the guys who are faster than I am.
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I won one race last year. I also found a nickel in the pits. Both are worth the same.
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Time doesn’t heal all wounds, but Alzheimer’s does.
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The best way to make wise decision in your career is to surround yourself with people who are wiser than you are.
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Fame and wealth are not buffers against social derision—although famous rich people can afford to salve their injured psyches with Porsches.
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It’s not being a champion that makes you happy. The happiness comes from everything that happened right up until you won the title.
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Nothing is, or will ever be, as cool as a Jofa hanging from its strap over a big jump.
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If I could offer you only one tip about motocross, it would be, “Aspire to the Novice class.” Speed is overrated. The faster you are, the less happy you are. I guarantee you that there is not a single former National Champion who is happy with the speed at which he rides today. His joy of riding was ruined by speed that he can no longer maintain, whereas the rest of us can go on being this slow as long as we want to.
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Glory is fleeting, but obscurity is forever.
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