BEST OF JODY’S BOX: THE BEST TRUE STORIES HAVE FAMOUS PEOPLE IN THEM

On Dec 30, 2024 Last updated Dec 30, 2024

BY JODY WEISEL

Most bench racing consists of a bunch of blowhards dropping names, rewriting history and falling back on the Fifth Amendment when the story telling gets tough. I have lots of stories. Some of them are truer than others, but all of them are based on a kernel of fact. Here is an absolutely true story from the 1995 World Vet Championship that has lots of famous names in it. How can I prove that it’s true? That’s easy, I don’t win in this one. It all started when I was telling this story to a small crowd of kids who came into the MXA pit to beg for jerseys, goggles and gloves. The first thing they asked was, “How did you do?

“I rode like an idiot, crashed a couple times and had a wonderful time. I never expected to do well. My best chance to win the Over-40 Expert class at the World Vet Championship came back in 1988 when I finished second overall behind nine-time World Vet Champion Alan Olson.”

“That’s not a very interesting story,” said a red-headed kid who was eying my goggles.”

“Oh yeah, ” I said. “This was the race where I knocked Gary Jones’ teeth out.”

“Who’s Gary Jones?” asked a kid by the chain link fence.“

“You don’t know who Gary Jones is?” asked five voices in unison.

“No,” said the kid. “Is he important?”

“He was a four-time 250 National Motocross Champion. He was the Ricky Carmichael of his generation…only tall.”

“How did it happen?” asked Jimmy Mac who was standing in the middle of the kids.

“I had got a bad pick at the starting gate, but when I finally rolled up to the line, I found myself starting to the right of Kent Howerton on the very inside gate. My plan was simple, I would get off the gate with Howerton and stick to him like a shadow all the way to the Talldega first turn. Whatever he did, I would do. With Kent leading the way, the worst I could do was be right behind a really great rider…although the best I could do was second place.”

“Who’s Kent Howerton?” asked the red-headed kid.

“You don’t know who Kent Howerton is?” jeered five pre-teen voices in unison. “He was the 1975 AMA 500 National Champion on a Husqvarna, 1980-1981 AMA 250 National Champion and the Trans-USA Champion on a Suzuki. He was the last rider to win a National Championship on a Husqvarna and rode for Team USA at three des Nations.”

“What’s a des Nations?” asked the kid by the fence. I ignored him and continued on with my story.

“If I wanted a good start, I had to latch on to Howerton’s rear fender and never let a gap form between us. Unfortunately, about 75 feet off the gate, Howerton hooked handlebars with the guy on his left. I hooked handlebars with Kent and the three of us went down.”

“Anybody hurt in the crash?” asked Fred Phalange who came from the other side of the pits to see what the crowd was all about.

“No, but I was stuck under my bike and Roger DeCoster had to lift it off of me.”

“Really?” said five voices in unison. “That’s so cool.”

“Who’s Roger DeCoster?” asked the red-headed kid.

“He was a five-time 500 World Champion. He’s the greatest motocross racer ever, but he wasn’t racing, he just happened to be standing by the side of the track where Howerton and I went down,” I said.

“What did you do?” asked Crazy Dave.

“I said, ‘I’m sorry.’”

“Why were you apologizing to Roger what’s-his-name?” asked the kid with the red hair.

“I was apologizing to the Rhinestone Cowboy for standing on his leg,” I replied.

“Who’s the Rhinestone Cowboy?” asked the kid by the fence.

“Kent Howerton!” yelled everybody in unison.

“Then, I said ‘Thank you.’”

“Why did you thank him?” said the kid. “Wasn’t it the Rawhide Cowboy’s fault that you crashed.”

“I was saying thank you to Roger for picking my bike off of me,” I replied.

“Did you catch up to the pack?” asked Jimmy Mac. I was a stupid question because the Mac was in the same race and knew that he finished in front of me.

“Howerton and I got going together and we caught the tail-end of the pack by the start of the second lap, but I lost contact with Kent when he started passing guys and I didn’t.”

“So, when did you knock this Gary Jones guy’s teeth out,” asked the red-headed kid.

“I’m getting to it,” I said. “It turns out that my chest protector straps had come loose in the crash, but I didn’t know it. I was about to be lapped by the leader when the front of my chest protector hooked on my crossbar. The crossbar lifted the chest protector up and it hit the bottom of my helmet, which pushed my goggles up. When I landed from the jump, I couldn’t see where I was going. I didn’t want to get lapped, so I held the throttle wide open just as the leader tried to pass. I ran him off the track. He managed to save it, but I went down again.”

“And that’s how you knocked Gary Jones’ teeth out?” said Jimmy Mac.

“No, that’s how I ran John DeSoto off the track. He was the leader,” I said.

“Who’s John DeSoto?” asked the kid by the fence.

“The Flyin’ Hawaiian,” said five guys in unison. “And the City Council Chairman in Honolulu.”

“No,” said the kid by the fence. “That’s Clifford Adoptante.”

“That could be true,“ I said. “I don’t keep up with Hawaiian politics or freestyle as much as I should,” I said trying to change the subject.

“What place was Gary Jones in?” asked Jimmy Mac.

“Oh,” I said. “Gary wasn’t in my class. He wasn’t 40 years old yet.”

“But, you said that you knocked his teeth out. How did you do that?” asked Crazy Dave, who joined the party late, but wanted to hear the end of the story.

“After the moto, I ran into Gary over by the concession stand and started telling him about my first moto with Kent, Roger and The Flyin’ Hawaiian. When I got to the chest protector part, he started laughing so hard that his two false front teeth fell out. They were on a partial plate. I guess that just proves Murphy’s Law.”

“Who’s Murphy?” asked the red-headed kid.