Page 62 - Issue-61

JUSTIN HILL
250 SX / 10TH
IMAGE / KILPATRICK WORDS / MATTINGLY DESIGN / MOTOPLAYGROUND
>> The personality of Texas, shows in its truest colors in the city of Houston. The Ameri- can flag, flying in all possible places, while stories of the historic Alamo regurgitated on a daily basis. Every citizen truly takes pride in the city they call home, and their fans, are some of the most passionate in any area across the country. Regardless of the sport or event, you can find their fans painted, costumed, and cheering to the abso-
lute max, in favor of their favorite teams and athletes. And when Monster Energy AMA Supercross rolled into town, the attitude was no different. Who was one of the hottest, most sought after commodities in the pits you ask? None other than Justin Hill. Hitting every jump with an oh so certain flare in practice, he could captivate fans with a simple tucking of the elbow, flashing his drain plug for all to see. Not only did he want to display his amount of true, raw speed and tenacity; he wanted to do it with style, because deep down, he knew that’s what many fans desired, even though the number one weighed heavily. He replicated his efforts in the heat races, as the foot would come off in the opening rhythm lane, displaying a bit of leg swag. Every pass that was made, a subtle look over, distinguishing his presence of alpha mentality. It would be reflected with solid laptimes, and a constant showing of qualification across the leader board, although a bit of fading would occur. After completion of the moto, he would fist bump the mechanic, and roll out of the tunnel, ready to discuss the night ahead. They came to the main event gate with a plan, but they couldn’t seem to figure out the launching pads, as he’d had trouble with throughout the course of the year. However, he would fight with some of the top two-digit professionals the series could provide. Shifting up after the sand section, he would toy with the option of tripling into the multiple rhythm sections. Never looking behind, his focus was forward, although the pressure from the likes of fans and friends alike, were beginning to enclose the shell of his helmet. With RPM’s echoing
off the likes of his dome, the tuff-blocks began to be one giant blur, as his matrix-like instincts forced him to zone in. Pushing forward, the white flag would come about, and tenth place was within his grasps. He seemed to be a bit confused and frustrated with his performance; he was more than ready for redemption in the next round.
62 GRITMOTO • JANUARY 14, 2018