Ian Gibson
Mod 1
3-21-07

Final Moments

      I was ecstatic. My body was numb from six hours of sitting, my eyes tired from 
constant checking of the gauges and the road, and my knuckles were about to burst from 
clenching the steering wheel - but I felt euphoric. Years of hard work all led up to this 
moment – today I was going to win.
	“Only one lap left, Teddy,” my pit boss said through my earpiece. “Just keep it 
under control and up to speed and there’ll be a trophy waiting for you.”
	I relaxed slightly, then tensed – I wasn’t done yet. Carelessness could lose the 
race, especially so late in the day. A glance in my rear-view gave even more cause for 
alarm – a lone competitor was tailing me awfully close.
	“Pit boss,” I mumbled nervously into the mic, “What’s the deal with this guy 
behind me?”
	“Well, that’s what I’m wondering too,” replied the voice on the other end. “He’s 
probably going to try and pass you on the next turn.”
	Not in my book, Rookie, no one pulls a fast one on me. Today was my day for 
glory. I hugged the inside as I rounded turn nine, making sure to maintain my speed 
around the curve. My eyes met empty road behind me – the punk was left in my dust. Or 
so I thought. The whine of a high performance engine blew past me as my nemesis took 
the lead.
	“Teddy, get your head in the race,” my pit boss commanded. “You’ve got one 
shot to take back the lead, and that’s in the last turn.”
	It was going to be a dangerous maneuver. No one had ever tried anything in the 
hairpin u-turn unless they wanted to get killed, but I was desperate. I sped up behind my 
rival, carefully drafting to gain speed. As soon as I saw his brake lights as he entered the 
turn, I punched the accelerator. The might of a thousand horses shoved me towards my 
opponent - I swerved around him with a dangerous nonchalance for death. My tires could 
lose their grip at any moment and force me off the track, but miraculously they held. The 
road opened before me and I gunned it down the home stretch. Thousands of fans erupted 
as I roared past the checkered flag. Today, I was the champion.
	“Woohoo!” I screamed, throwing my fist into the air in triumph. It was my time to 
shine and I basked in the glory. The radio buzzed with hoops and hollers and the 
grandstand cheered for my victory. Then a sound came that only a dead man hears – the 
burst of a tire at 200 miles per hour. I lost control as my front end dug into the ground, 
flipping my fragile vessel end over end. Hurtling through the air at breakneck speed with 
death a certainty, only one thought came to my mind – at least I won.