Page 20 - Issue_67

BROC TICKLE
450 SX / 5TH
IMAGE / LANNAN WORDS / MATTINGLY DESIGN / MOTOPLAYGROUND
>> With folklore of pirates looming around the area for centuries, many apart of the Tampa area are used to hearing tales of men stealing, and ransacking that of their lesser counterparts. Broc Tickle, after touring the town earlier this week, wanted to do the same thing, in a sense; he hoped to come from out of nowhere, taking a victory, stealing the money, trophy, and notoriety from everyone else on the tour. His riding in practice displayed his attitude clearly, as he was the rst out onto the course, gravi- tating towards the top of the leaderboard from the beginning on. Popping up over the tunnel jump, you could see his left boot click up a gear or two, as he would absolutely annihilate the remaining mounds; although they seemed like walls of fortress to some, he viewed them as thin air, seemingly pushing through as though they weren’t their. The heat race would be much of the same, as his time would be made up in the beginning, in this particular spot. He was hoping so bad that the track wouldn’t deteri- orate, as his strength would be to the weakness of the competition. Blitzing every part of the circuit with all of his might, there wasn’t any instability as if he were on the peg leg; it was all brute force, carrying his momentum every which way. Hanging on for the last lap, he would bring home the fth place ride. The gate would rise for the main event, and be trampled over by the world’s elite in an instant; he was found battling with the top contenders early on. His line around the outside sweeper was imminent, rolling the small hump, and then tripling, attempting to quad, and triple again; it took the morale of Cole Seely earlier in the evening, but he wasn’t batting an eye. Lap after lap, the pressure of Justin Hill was amounting, but he wouldn’t fold. Not once
in his career had he bowed down, and he wasn’t starting tonight. This twenty minute countdown seemed like eternity; and with the humidity still creeping in, into the early hours of evening, this appeared to be a tiny outdoor national. He thrived in it, looking forward to his competition breaking around him. And then the checkered ag would near, and it was all he could do to cross the nish; fth place was his for the taking. This was a moment to build off of, as the series would roll on.
20 GRITMOTO • FEBRUARY 25, 2018