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ELI TOMAC
450 SX / 2ND
IMAGE / KILPATRICK WORDS / MATTINGLY DESIGN / MOTOPLAYGROUND
>> When you think of Daytona, you imagine all of the greats that have stormed around this concrete coliseum. Earnhardt, Petty, Johnson, the list can go on and on. Every February cues the start of NASCAR season, and all of us as Supercross fans yearn for the round of racing, which looms shortly in the weeks there after. We’ve been blessed with the opportunity for the past few decades, to have our series conduct operations on the in eld, providing an outlier of race in the schedule. Many in the stands, and behind television screens can’t contain their excitement, and leaves many riders excited to perform on such a stage. Eli Tomac has this round circled from the time the schedule is announced, and has been counting down the days for quite some time now. He was nally given the opportunity on Saturday, March 10th, and took full advantage of it. Wading through the sands as though he was a S.E.A.L in the sands of the Sahara, the idea of Operation Desert Storm had been brought to the turf of Daytona, Florida. Avoiding any injury throughout this treacherous practice session, he would qualify favorably as dusk would fall for the night show. Anticipation would heighten for the gate drop, and just like that, the heat was underway. Skating through the mechanics area, the chicane of right and left had him glancing at the pitboard with little concern, as he knew the task at hand. Nearly clipping the tuff-blocks, he would wheel-tap through the following roller section dragging the clutch handle in the left-handed bowl turn after. Pushing with Christian Craig within a small radius, every move he made was counter acted with a similar ef- fort from the opposition. As he hit the triple the following lap, he began to see signs of aggression in his peripheral vision; the pack was closing in, but with having the upper hand, he could dictate. The lead seemed to be his, until a mistake on lap ve would push him to sixth. Crossing the checkered ag, he would go on to nish there. As the gate fell for the main event, there was a certain feeling of peace that overwhelmed him; he would truly believe in himself, and everything began to move
in slow motion. However, a clipping of a back wheel would push him from mid-pack, to absolutely dead last! The rummaging through traf c was obsolete; he could pick lines on the drop of a time, shortly after that previous disaster had struck. His effort of wheel tapping through the dragon’s
back was absolutely textbook, as the camera would hover just to the left side of his shroud. Eyeing Justin Brayton he would push forward, even into second, looking to make up any possible ground that he could. The tearoff stack was wearing thin, so he knew he would have to be calculated when and if, he could approach the rear wheel. Vaulting through the sand section adjacent to the start, he would charge the next left with an absurd amount of power, doing whatever he could to catch Justin Brayton. But it was to no avail, as a valiant effort would be just short, with the silver medal now hanging around his neck.
10 GRITMOTO • MARCH 11, 2018