SPEED TC: Nick Esayian, “Bon Jovi Gives VIR a Bad Name”
Written by: Nick Esayian
Dublin, VA (5.13.08)

If James Brown was the hardest working man in show business, Nick Esayian is clearly the funniest man driving a touring car. He might not be the Godfather of Soul, but there’s no doubt he’s the Godson of slapstick.

In Nick’s recap of another tough weekend--this time at the VIR SPEED TC round, we learn that things were tough on and off the track. Oh, and if you see his rental car at future event, please don’t key the sides of it…we’ll leave it to him to tell that story…

The short story is my wife and I fly to Vegas to see Bon Jovi roughly ten days prior to my departure to VIR for Round #2 of the Speed World Challenge Touring Car Championship. We enjoy the show... Bon Jovi is better than he was twenty years ago. The Cougars and MILFs (including my wife) are googely eyed, the show ends, and then the fun begins. My wife, after waking up at 4am that morning with my kids, wants to go to bed right after the show... I on the other hand, am fully prepared to go out and whoop it up in Vegas. We fight, I lose, and the next morning the yelling ensues as we approach the car back at the San Diego airport.

I pop the trunk, my overly fit wife hurls her suitcase into the back of our car and I follow suit... I round house toss my much lighter suitcase into the back of the car and feel a pop in my back. This can’t be good but I’m not going to drop to the ground at this moment of manliness and admit injury. I’ve just thrown a suitcase while arguing with my wife. I gently get in, tell her I don’t want to fight anymore and drive immediately home and get into the hot tub. Needless to say I am not well, this is not the first time I have had back issues and I’m terrified of what is to come next.

The next morning, Monday the 14th, I wake up at about 3am and am in excruciating pain. I’m not talking about a stiff back or discomfort... I’m talking hot

sword dipped in acid being pierced and twisted right into my lower back... This is pain! Minutes fade to hours; any movement including breathing elicits more back spasms, which leads to pain, which leads to back spasms... You get the picture. The next six days were a blur. 40 minutes to get out of bed; not going to the bathroom (#2) for six days; more narcotics in my system than Courtney Love in Amsterdam. Urinating is even is torture... I look like a gymnast trying to mount the parallel bars when “attacking” the toilet.

I’m trying just to live another moment and in the back of my mind I know the VIR World Challenge Touring Car race is quickly approaching. After truly the most physically miserable week in my life I am two days away from getting on a plane for five hours, carrying suitcases, bouncing over curbs in a BMW touring car with 9000lbs springs. And I still have not gone to the bathroom.... BTW I now have caught the cold from my two year old, Troy, so every time I cough it feels as if by lower back is going to explode.

With a cocktail of drugs, a back brace, my orthopedic surgeons number, a list of acupuncture specialists in Virginia, and two big ass suit cases, I am on the way to VIR to compete in the second round of the Speed World Challenge Series. I am not off to a great start. The pressure is on after starting on the grid 4th at Sebring and blowing the start, I need some points at VIR. Some will come, but not many.

Fast forward a few days... I manage to get in and out of the car without much drama... I’m off the mind bending drugs and actually not doing to bad considering my miserable physical state. The BimmerWorld crew has the E90 purring like a kitten... I’m a shade off the pace but in the game and ready to roll. I’m feeling good enough to join the crew for a pizza and a beer prior to retreating to the hotel room to snuggle with my heating pad, Ibuprofen, and body pillow...

It is painful to sit at the pizza place but my misery is muted for the time being as I watch a grown man, who will remain unnamed, agree to eat one and a half large pizzas that have been sitting out all day waiting to be discarded on a dare for about $350. The team has a proclivity for challenging one another to eat things that no one else will... FOR MONEY. In this case, money is not only pledged at the restaurant for the unnamed man to perform, but over the phone from other SPEED TC drivers. Surely the rotten pizza which includes unrefrigerated meat that will undoubtedly play havoc with his colon for days, if not weeks, to come. Jerry Lewis would have been proud of the fund raising as it included about a dozen contributors.

The unnamed man fails to eat the pizza in the allocated time (45 minutes). Not to fear, ten minutes later, he eats another six pieces of a freshly delivered pizza, a Diet Coke, milkshake and then agrees to consume a banana split big enough for three people. He vomits but wins $100 consolation prize for eating the Sundae. Did Senna and Prost have fun like this? Where is Sebastian Bourdais? He would be crying foul!

The rest of my weekend reads like a Jimmy Carter speech trying to solidify his legacy... Lots of excuses, little performance, shirking responsibility, and in general a failure... Just like Jimmy Carter I get to watch it all on television two weeks later.

I’m off the pace in practice but still am in the game. My bad back is not a factor. The time between the second practice and qualifying was tight and the BimmerWorld crew busted their b*lls to get the springs on all three cars changed. I can’t believe they get my car done but they do and I’m strapping in while the car is still on their alignment pad. In the meantime the field is rolling down the pit lane. Of course I’m in such a hurry to get on the track and attempt to get a draft, I roll off the scales and drive away before the guys can check my tire pressures. So I’m already cranked up upon realizing this and then get held in the pit lane as the first cars are coming by on a flyer... I can’t back up on pit lane for them to get the pressures handled so I have to roll.

Now I’m gnashing my teeth... I run the warm up lap, the new tires feel good and I’m mentally back in the game... Here goes the flyer, most likely I’ll get two hot laps out of the tires before the grip falls off... Here we go! About 1/3 of the way through the lap I’m flying and the dash is giving me a nice split time. I lift a little early and blow the upper esses but I’m still looking good... Unfortunately I get a waving yellow on the back straight as I come over the blind hill and have no clue what is over the other side. A few months ago I crashed in the rain here and ended up in the middle of the track just over the hill waiting to get hit. No fun, so in the hopes of sparing my competitors life, and my own, I lift and pinch my bottom together tight enough that I ended up with a diamond in my shoe after the session.

I scream, “G** DAMMIT”, lift and to my chagrin, see Jason Saini’s Mazda6 trucking right along, obviously with a problem, but well out of the race line... I’ve blown my lap. Of course it is everyone else’s fault but mine. I curse Saini but realize he contributed to the spoiled food eating fund earlier in the week and that this is not his fault so I withhold any sort of voodoo hex on him.

I give another flyer a shot but the tires are now hot and the over-inflation issue I caused is now haunting me as I feel like I’m driving a sprint car with loads of over steer. I come in, get the tires bled down to the correct pressures, get back out and find a draft, but I missed my opportunity when the tires were perfect and end up starting 13th. Terrible. Why didn’t I just drive around, get my pressures handled and time a draft in the first place? I’m old. Old guys remember the days of Red Flags during qualifying so you go out and get a lap in.

The race start was a circus... As usual. The standing starts are like driving into a car accident on purpose. Patrick Lindsey jumps the start and the car in front of me moves as well. The lights are still on so I am sitting and do my best to process what is going on and at the same time focused on keeping the revs up so I don’t blow it as I did at Sebring when 4th on the grid and pooped the bed. This time I demonstrate a full Luke Duke burnout which, along with the sound of the bad ass Xtrac gearbox howl, makes me smile. I pick up some positions and am trying to use whatever race craft I’ve accumulated over the last fifteen years to overcome my Miami Dolphins-like performance earlier in the week.

Anyway I’m still mired in the middle of the pack and one of the Tindol cars gets a good run on me in turn 3. There is no way we are both going to make it through here and I see him understeering and moving over/into me and I’m quickly running out of room on the exit.

STOP THE ACTION... FREEZE THE FRAME.

So here is the decision that has to be made in about 1/100th of a second. Do I....

1.) Hang tough, keep my line, look like a man, and most likely get tagged in the left rear door resulting in a lurid slide, loss of momentum, damage, getting passed by at least two cars, and the potential of a cut tire, etc.?

OR...

2.) Open up the wheel, drop a tire into the dirt, avoid contact, lose momentum, look like a the leading Democratic Candidate for President by avoiding conflict at all cost, just asking to get pounded at a later day by not defending my ground?

(Nick hasn’t said who he’s voting for this year, but I’m guessing his name rhymes with “McBain”…~Ed.)

It really is a no win situation... Of course this doesn’t take into consideration the 100’s of potential outcomes here, or that all of this is happening in a fraction

of a second. I open the wheel, bounce over the curb, AND YOU GUESSED IT, cause the car (the bottom of the car between the wheels smacking the concrete before the suspension has a chance to catch it) on the track out curbing which is like have Ray Guy (famous NFL punter) kicking me square in the ass which is unpleasant to say the least on my lower back. I get passed by a few guys, use some great ice racing techniques as I mow the lawn and re-enter the track... I bounce back, pass some cars and once again drive around frustrated and in a position that I don’t feel is indicative of my talent, my team or my car.

Proof of this is that my teammates Seth Thomas and James Clay, with identical cars, kick ass and finish second and third respectively. Seth gets his best finish ever in WC. James wows his home fans with a podium. Our crew shows they are second to none. My performance is pathetic... Once again this is professional auto racing and all that matters is the result. I’m bent but not broken... I’ve been quick in the car so my time will come but I need to exhibit focus and consistency better than I have thus far. The week after the race I muddled through the data, look for problems with the car, etc... It’s on me.

As I walk dejectedly to my car Mazda6 racer Charles Espenlaub and his female companion rollup and ask me if I want a ride to my rental. “Hey man which one of these rental cars is yours?” as we head up to the parking area. “It’s the one with the A Vote for Obama Equals More Osama” bumper sticker (get one at republicanracer.com). Espenlaub says, “Cool, I need a picture of that.” His lady friend is less than enthusiastic. She takes a pic, I thank them for the ride, and I’m off to the airport. Although I’ve probably robbed Espenlaub of any physical pleasure from his mate that evening I’m pleased someone enjoyed my humor more than the ungroomed sandal wearer that keyed my rental car.

The Touring Car field is about 20 right now but the drivers competing in this series are so closely matched anyone really has a chance to win. Certainly some have better odds than others but the talent pool is deep and qualifying is critical... It is just the tightest and most talented group you can imagine and depending on the track the podium spots could showcase any car, team, or driver.

If you are reading this you need sell your house, wife, and kids to rent, buy or steal a current World Challenge Touring Car and join us. This is the best sports car racing in North America... The tightest field... The most talent... The coolest cars... Television coverage, etc. People will tell me, “I hear World Challenge is not going to be around next year.” That’s bullsh*t. The series is strong, the management in place is doing the right things to make things happen, and good things are going to happen. I’ll bet $100,000 on that.

I am happy first and foremost for my teammates, Seth and James, but I also was pleased to see my former teammate Kuno Wittmer get his first win. Last year his entire family, grandma included, would drive from Montreal for days all over the US to watch him race and unfortunately they were not there to see his win at VIR. He’s really deserving and obviously put a great show for the fans those last few laps with Seth. That racing everyone saw was what makes SPEED World Challenge Touring Car the best road racing in North America.

Every racer goes through these slumps. The difference between the great drivers and the simply good at this level is that the great ones overcome the challenges more times than the good ones. Am I great? NO... Not at this point. We are two races in and my next chance at greatness is this coming weekend in Salt Lake. It can’t come soon enough.

~Nick