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The
following is an editorial written by Dr. Pineschi describing his first
Spec-7 race experience:
Dr.
Victor Pineschi's First Race
Butterflies,
excitement, nervousness, butterflies, anticipation, doubt,
butterflies, hesitation, apprehension, butterflies, contemplation,
preconception, butterflies, dread, fear, anxiety, butterflies,
expectation, invigoration, exhilaration.....lets get going----NOW!!!
It's
truly amazing how quickly your brain can fire all available synapses
when the starter does such a simple action as holding up her index
digit indicating the "one minute" signal prior to your first
race.
It
only took 45 years to arrive at this moment in time. Just 45
years of toy cars, learners permits, muscle cars, hot dogging, street
racing (or at least what I thought was racing), my "sports
car" phase, show car phase, etc, etc, etc. How I ended up
at this moment in time now seems to be a combination of predetermined
fate, subconscious self-determination, and a merging of circumstances
all converging into an astrological mélange, leading up to me seeking
a "real" competition license. I had to do it;
it was my birthright.
Following
a color comboed puke green/piss yellow Spec Rx7 (no one ever said guys
who race cars have to have tasteful esthetics to be great drivers -
Ferraris excepted) from the grid onto the track, I make my
best attempt to keep from looking too "rookie" by emulating
the driver in front by scrubbing tires and trail braking in my attempt
to get my car up to operation temps. My grey matter kicks into
overdrive on top of my already warp speed driven neurons. No
more butterflies. Pure business. Pure exhilaration.
No fear.
Rounding
the last turn anticipating the drop of the green flag, I instinctively
blip the throttle while simultaneously muscling the shifter down a
gear. I spy the white of the starter's eyes although he is at
least a hundred yards away. I know he's going to drop the
green. My left foot never dropped a clutch so quickly, only
beaten by a half a heartbeat by my right foot trying to crush the
throttle through the firewall. I'm vaguely aware of the
simultaneous sound of a dozen other Mazdas reacting in the same
instant. Deafening, but queerly at the same time
inaudible. Organized chaos ensues as each driver tries to
"grab the line" diving into the first turn. I jump the
puke green 7 and another just as obscenely painted Mazda. I take the
line and fend off the anticipated "intimidation" of a
rookie as we drive through the first turn. Unbelievably, I had
jumped the two guys! NOW, this is fun, this is what it is all
about, THIS IS RACING!!! It doesn't get any better than this.
Dr.
Victor Pineschi
More
Pictures
Posing for pictures
Prepping the car
Checking wheel torque
Starting grid
Engine Content
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