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22 Posts
Re: Today
A dream...
Scott Russell riding a Lime Green Muzzy Kawasaki at Daytona International Speedway. Coming out of the infield onto NASCAR Turn One, spinning a full race slick sideways three laps before his pit, Muzzy canister wobbling starboard, aft. A cloud of slightly unburned race fuel marks his territory. The fumes will be long gone by the time 2nd place arrives. The crowd watches as the ZX-7 Ninja accelerates around the tri-oval in a noticibly more rapid fashion than the remainder of the field. Backmarkers drift down the banking to let him by as the full-throttle, full-tuck, florescent yellow-and-feather Shoei, visible from the main stands, blurs by in a tremendous fury of sight and sound. The Lime missile passing like it had 4000 rpm hiding East of redline. Wheelieing out of the chicane, pipe flapping against its bracket, no mortal could touch the skills of this individual on this machine, on this day. We miss all that and more. 1992 was a special year for Kawasaki, Muzzy, Scott, and all of us.
The bike that flattened the field was for sale in the DuPont Registry when I was a college sophomore and if I had it all to do again, I'd still pass on the offer, but I would still get that same feeling of hopelessness as a hero's stallion was sold to someone less deserving.
We miss those days Scott, and we want nothing more than the confident, shy, Georgian back on the high banks, making everyone else look slow and clumsy. Get well.
A dream...
Scott Russell riding a Lime Green Muzzy Kawasaki at Daytona International Speedway. Coming out of the infield onto NASCAR Turn One, spinning a full race slick sideways three laps before his pit, Muzzy canister wobbling starboard, aft. A cloud of slightly unburned race fuel marks his territory. The fumes will be long gone by the time 2nd place arrives. The crowd watches as the ZX-7 Ninja accelerates around the tri-oval in a noticibly more rapid fashion than the remainder of the field. Backmarkers drift down the banking to let him by as the full-throttle, full-tuck, florescent yellow-and-feather Shoei, visible from the main stands, blurs by in a tremendous fury of sight and sound. The Lime missile passing like it had 4000 rpm hiding East of redline. Wheelieing out of the chicane, pipe flapping against its bracket, no mortal could touch the skills of this individual on this machine, on this day. We miss all that and more. 1992 was a special year for Kawasaki, Muzzy, Scott, and all of us.
The bike that flattened the field was for sale in the DuPont Registry when I was a college sophomore and if I had it all to do again, I'd still pass on the offer, but I would still get that same feeling of hopelessness as a hero's stallion was sold to someone less deserving.
We miss those days Scott, and we want nothing more than the confident, shy, Georgian back on the high banks, making everyone else look slow and clumsy. Get well.
