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51cc (4-6) Limited
THE MOTOPLAYGROUND RACE
at Ponca City
COLT MARTIN >> 1
Throughout adolescence, children dream of being placed all aboard posters, jumbo-trons and televi- sions screens alike. Throughout various ages in that stage of life, everything seems as large as
can be; with these takeoffs catapulting a rider into another stratosphere. Their outright speed is inher- ently faster with each passing calendar year. And their lucrative ideas and dreams are beyond some- thing that even the smartest of adults can fathom. Races such as the notorious MotoPlayground
Race at Ponca City, are platforms where they can perform in front of all family and friends, all in hopes of a monumental reward and to identify themselves as an outright competitor and athlete. They focus on the foundation of this game, why many racers would get started in the first place. Moto number one, saw names such as Travis Schneider, Colt Martin, and Lane Willis in the top three. However,
it was Tatum Michaels taking the lead early on with authority, and never looking back. With Schenider setting the fastest time on lap three, he felt pres- sure from the number 113 of Willis. Scrubbing the singles and table top’s with adequate timing, he was doing all he could to pull away; and it would work, as he would end up leading from every lap other than the green flag, with Willis a mere second away, and Martin finishing third. As each mechanic held up the chassis, the riders began to open their throttle with all their might; it was time to clear
out the exhaust and silencer, and really get these machines fired up for moto two, where Colt looked for redemption. A little bit of drag to the front brake, the eyes locked in down the start straight, and the field was off after the gate fall, with Colt sitting in fifth, and Mason Moore emerging as leader in the early going. Jumping everything in sight, you had
to double check, just to realize the biological age of the number 47; as from a distance, it appeared as a facade, and you would think he was a professional on television, someone pitting under a factory team. The outright speed was apparent, and each jump he wasn’t clearing, he would charge the face with jaw-dropping speed. All to drag the rear brake up the face, and immediately scorch down the other side, spraying whoever was behind with crisp, Oklahoma soil. It was working, as each lap the gap over Lane Willis and Kash Cain would increase. On the final lap, his mechanic jumping up and down, and waving his arms, Martin gave a subtle look over, knowing that all he had to do was make it to the final registry of timing and scoring. Now that he’d completed the task at hand, he envisioned
WWW.MOTOPLAYGROUND.COM
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