Sunday, June 25, 2006
In Racing we had a saying that was used at the bars in the winter when we would all get together. "If yer racin yer cheatin, if yer talkin yer lyin." It wasn't really cheatin so much as an intelligent reading of the rules. That's what I used. Some of the teams were blatant about cheating, and the tech inspectors had no clue how to catch them. Enter Billrilla. Bill would wear work cloths and show no affiliation with me or our group in the early days and at any new track. He could wander around and chat with the other teams as they worked on their cars, getting a good look at what they had. He would try to verify what he saw, and then bring me the info. In some cases I would just sit on the info and we would just go out and win. Every once in a while when the cheatin got way outa hand I would wait til we lost and then file a complaint to the tech guy. Usually had to hold their hands while they looked for what I told them. We gave that up after a while when they started shutting hoods at the sight of Bill. Bill called a few on the things he had seen, and some wanted to fight him. I made sure he didn't hurt anyone but let him answer the challenges after the night was over. Funny how everyone had somewhere else to be when the officials were out of the picture. One time we were working on a car in my shop. I was under it and Bill was on top in the engine bay. We were using some heavier then air solvents to clean stuff. I was breathing the fumes and soon noticed the world going black. The last thing I remember was reaching out and hitting Bill on the leg, and then I was out. When I came to, I was outside and on my side with Bill asking me if I was ok. If I hadn't hit him on the leg it might have been five or more minutes before he would have noticed a problem. As it was he had me outa there in seconds. Thanks bro.