I am fairly cruel when it comes to R.D.'s bouts with windmills. I suppose it's because I have traveled down so many (lost cause) roads that when I see the streak in another, my anger makes me lash out. All our bad traits are attached to bad memories.
When Red Dragon and Frog Legs (sorry, I just can't call him Bike Diet with a straight face) brought up the idea of a race, I launched into my sarcastic trifecta. The rolling eyes, the wise ass comment, the list of other ideas in the scrap heap. A verbal combo only Rocky and R.D. could take with a smile. I give him a lot of shit, but I think he would agree when push comes to shove, I don't mind handing him a sword and pointing at the next turbine.
You see, you have to watch those guys with big ideas. Especially the ones that aren't afraid to hang their balls in the wind. Guys like that have a tendency to hit bulls eyes. People with safe warm balls, tucked away in pleated trousers, mostly just stare out windows from cubicles, dreaming of what it would be like to put it all on RED 27 and spin.
If you made it out to the race today, I bet you had fun. If you didn't come out, I'll bet after hearing some stories, you'll wish you had. It was just organized enough to be fair, and just chaotic enough to be cool. Don't feel bad, someones got to wear the pleated pants...might as well be you.