Page 8 - Issue-35

ELI TOMAC
450 SX / OKLAND
IMAGE / MPG WORDS / MATTINGLY DESIGN / WILSON
>> Welcome to the largest city in Alameda County. Civilization nestled between the ports of the Pacific and the bundles of Redwood timber that litter the West Coast landscape; without further ado, we
bring to you Oakland, California. A concoction of Bay Area tackiness (soil composition, not a popula- tion description) and plethora of moisture to create a track condition that is no less that optimum, the industry was ecstatic with the series rolling into town. And Eli Tomac was salivating when walking into the tunnel prior to the commencement of the 450 main event, after securing his spot to dance with the premier Supercross riders from around the world through solid qualifying efforts. The holeshot award and thought of race victory, acting as a tender, flame-grilled steak dangling in front of the predator we know as the number 3. The roar of his 450, mimicking that of a brute, demonized lion asserting him- self as king of the all-terrain jungle as the pack bull-rushed into turn number one. He could yell and scream all he wanted, but his notoriously mediocre starting technique was apart of the equation yet again, forcing Tomac near the bottom portion of the top ten. However, he would seem to act in unison with the Oakland terrain, every move was set, and any obstacle thrown at him, he would complete with solid synchronization. Making his way into seventh in the beginning stages, a quick two-hop propelled him into the top five, all over the blood splattered Honda of Cole Seely; the alpha was truly seeing red. With the dicing of the number 14 and Jason Anderson (who sat third) their usual antics allowed ET3 to mosey by, and focus his efforts towards a rookie, Cooper Webb, who was a little ways ahead. Nearing the 9 minute mark, Tomac really began to find his groove; dragging the footpegs, scraping the engine casing on the hollow tips of these unusual California ruts, his outdoor expertise began to reap dividends. Mud gleaming all along the side of his battle tested shield, he was flinging tearoffs with assertion, diligently trying to get his vision back like Fetty Wap and the Raiders. He had now made his way onto the back tire of Cooper Webb; the rookie falters, Tomac sweeps him in the left turn along side the mechanics area. As Tomac’s attention now was zeroing in on the champion who was leading the field, Webb seemed to be forgotten into the shadows; when all of the sudden, the Yamaha brings the crowd to life, an insurmountable “quad” effort in the rhythm section after the me- chanics area springs the number two into second again. The charge wouldn’t last for long, however, as Webb’s hiccup on the next sequence of Dragon’s backs had Tomac left with an open track, and luring smell of orange carrots just ahead. Tomac now begins to jump the death-defying quad after the rhythm section, truly chipping at Dungey’s lead. The four-minute mark comes around, and Eli Tomac’s SX resurgence is in full effect, the confidence is apparent and he moves alongside Dungey. Hounding for a lap, it comes time for Tomac to enforce his assertion through the whoop section; Dungey breaks right, the rear end begins to dance, and Tomac hops his way into the lead! The crowd screaming as though they were preparing to rush the track in an all out blitz. Tomac, now in the lead, would settle into his own pace; the effort would be highly rewarded, with another win, and a absurd amount of encouragement to both he and crew. It’s anyone’s ballgame now.
8
GRITMOTO • FEBRUARY 5, 2017