No I’m Not Mad At You
I want everyone to know how truly sorry I am for this article being so behind schedule, and that a number of other elements have also been late over the past couple of days. It seems every time I managed to get something in motion, something more important like Justin Foreman’s misfortune or the Cooke/Medaglia school came up and pushed the less headline-worthy material to the back burner.
It’s not like these other ideas haven’t been occupying space in my already overcrowded cranium. Many of them were taking shape even while the web site itself was refusing to let me in.
Because of the nature of the way you may perceive what I’m about to say, the delay even included writing this editorial and sitting on it for an additional day before dredging up the guts to hit the “publish” button. In the long run, I decided, while you may not agree with me, that I would be disappointed with myself if I felt one particular way and just kept my feelings to myself.
I have been thinking a lot about all the miscellaneous but somehow interconnected happenings over the past couple of weeks. Unfortunately, the only way I can categorize most of it into one convenient folder is to look at the one obvious central theme. Disappointment. (The common denominator.)
Maybe you grew up with one of “those” parents. Maybe you ARE one of “those” parents, or maybe you just end up dealing with one. These people have even been known to invade the workplace, clearly demonstrating that they can also be one of “those” bosses or co-workers.
Everything has gone to hell in a handbasket. Life is out to get you (maybe even the mafia and the bird flu) You have done your best, but everything has gone wrong. You’re raging and “venting” because you know nothing can make even the end of the world turn around like…well, like one of “those” … you know the type ...
“Honey/dude/buddy/etc., you know I’m not at all mad/upset/pissed-off/homicidal/ ***/etc. at you. I don't feel like killing you at this moment, I’m just really, really disappointed.”
“Honey/dude/buddy/etc., you know I’m not at all mad/upset/pissed-off/homicidal/ ***/etc. at you. I don't feel like killing you at this moment, I’m just really, really disappointed.”
There seems to have been a lot of that lately. I was incredibly disappointed when we couldn’t get your results posted from Mill Hill, and more disappointed with those who could have helped but treated it like it was a second-rate concern and something that could be dealt with “whenever”. Many of us “live and die” by those numbers. Many were plenty P/O’d that the results they expect as a function of their racing license took so long. I was disappointed with the whole scenario.
Maybe it doesn’t take a lot to disappoint me, but after surrendering my dignity and unloading on everyone at the Riverglade riders meeting, there were just as as many mis-numbered/un-numbered bikes at Mill Hill as there were at round-3. That disappoints me.
While I’m not “mad”, “P.O.ed”, “disgusted”, etc. about any of these and other inconveniences. I am ALL of these and a whole lot more about our embarrassing treatment of Jeremy Wallace and his masterpiece race facility, whether it was an event for points, cash, or carnival teddy-bears.
Wallace is a rider, and a rider to be admired for the way he ran his far-too-short race career. This young man has now invested more than a year of his personal time. intellectual, and emotional energy, and enlisted many of HIS own personal friends, (both moto and non-moto). He put at a huge risk equipment (that is normally used to MAKE money) - equipment costing in the hundreds of thousands of dollars. If it breaks, it stops making money and starts costing in a big way.
Jeremy spent, by some estimates, well into the six figure mark on diesel fuel alone. (That’s more than I paid for my house) I still have a hard time believing how many tandem loads of topsoil were both bought and brought.
So, given the situation as it exists in our sport, as any student of that old “person-to-person” (child rearing) philosophy would point out…while “someone” made a bad choice and probably the wrong decision altogether, the parties harmed show no disdain, or animosity, or lack of respect, or “hate” for our transgressor. So, hoping an attitude can be contageous, you opt for the high road and simply respond with what you feel you can control. That is simply the expression of your disappointment.
The fact that we are having issues of any kind, here in the most effective region in Canada disappoints me. The current situation in Ontario that has prompted open, public responses (blogs) from luminaries including Brett Lee and Steve Dool disappoints me. The MX101/Moto Park group has been studying and tweaking things. The gang at Gopher Dunes are carefully experimenting with ideas to improve their day and eliciting feedback all the way. I am just the opposite of disappointed with the positive signs I see from these guys. I am ENTHUSED.
We have suffered a couple of less-than-successful weekends. My disappointment, and I’m sure that of both Jeremy and Blaine, is directed at many here in our own community. Don’t expect real motocrossers to just get disappointed, discouraged, and dig a hole to crawl in to. This latest single-jump isn’t really much of an obstacle. The right people will again band together, buff out the rough spots, and help any of those who still don’t get it find a way to the exit.
(Our last visitor -post went along with the post named "RACEGUY Recovers" to the archive. Just click here, then click "comment" http://raceguysroom.blogspot.com/2011/06/raceguy-recovers.html )
The most unfortunate aspect of our last visitor-post, while written by someone who seems to know a little about the sport, and who also appears to have actually taken in some races this season, is that it comes with reasonable critique and suggestions on how we can be better.
I find it hard enough to face up to the facts that we need to start fixing things when it comes from INside our little community. We now have to face up to the fact that our average fan is also noticing. For that, I could be angry, or vengeful, or unmoving, but instead, I am simply truly crushingly disappointed.