If you’ve read my ramblings here for any length of time, you’ve probably noticed a theme. Although Phil, Kevin, and the ND staff essentially give me carte blanche – the freedom to write about anything I see fit – I tend to revert back to my core beliefs often. When it comes to competition, when it comes to “the science of winning,” I believe that confidence is key. I also believe that confidence can be cultivated. And I believe that optimism is a necessary piece of confidence.
I’ve spoken on that. I’ve written about it. But that’s all in theory. It’s a nice idea. What does it look like in practice? Recently, I got a chance to live it. And I think there’s a takeaway for us all. It’s story time.
You probably know that I was recently fortunate to win the Moser Engineering Spring Fling Million in Las Vegas. It was the most lucrative payday of my racing career, and combined with my victory at the 2017 event, I became the first driver to win the prestigious event on two occasions. Pretty incredible stuff. What you probably don’t know is that about two hours prior to experiencing the highest of highs that our sport has to offer, I made a terrible (and embarrassing) mistake on one of the biggest stages in our sport, and it put into jeopardy the outcome that ultimately made that day one of my best. Like I said, it’s story time!
In round 6 of the Spring Fling Million main event, there were 15 cars remaining in competition, and I was piloting two of them. In addition to my wife’s new American Race Cars built, Moser Engineering backed dragster that ultimately won the event, I was also still entered in my Moser Engineering backed, Charlie Stewart Race Cars built C7 roadster. I think it goes without saying (I still had both of my entries in sixth round of one of the biggest events of the season!), but I was driving very well, both cars were incredible, and I came into the round overflowing with confidence in my equipment and my own performance. I opened that sixth round of competition in the ‘vette opposite my childhood friend and longtime buddy Chad Sandlin.
I could give a detailed explanation of how that round unfolded and why I made the mistake that I made, but in the end it’s going to come off as more of an excuse than an explanation; and it’s not really relevant to my point. The end result was that I crossed the finish line first by over .07 of a second – more than a car length! – to break out by .003-of-a-second and turn what should have been a victory into a devastating defeat.
Now, I want to be as transparent as I can possibly be here. All of the thoughts that I believe would be typical crossed my mind in the moments that followed. As I made my way through the shutdown area and coasted down the hill back toward the pits, I definitely thought:
- I just screwed up BIG TIME, and it cost me at least $10,000 (every round at that stage of the race has lots of zeros behind it!)
- There are thousands of people watching, and they just watched me take a train length at the finish line
- I’m supposed to be a teacher of the game. Racers pay me to help them get better – and I just took .070! I write a column called “The Science of Winning” for Pete’s sake! (Okay, maybe that’s a little specific as to what was actually going through my mind, but you get the idea)
- I could easily go from having two entries in round 6 of the Million to have zero entries in round 7!
All of that crossed my mind. Because all of that would cross anyone’s mind. Looking back, what I’m most proud of is what happened next.
In a very condensed time period – keep in mind, the remaining competitors are literally waiting for me in the staging lanes to come back around in the dragster – I would stage again (literally 10 minutes after this result) in another monumental round of competition with high stakes on the line. As a result, I had no choice but to rebuild my confidence – to CHOOSE optimism – and do so quickly.
I began systematically unpacking each of the above thoughts in my mind. I started with the outside judgment. Literally as I coasted past the bleachers full of onlookers down the return road I thought to myself, “Do you know who’s laughing at me for taking .070 sixth round of the million? A bunch of people who aren’t in sixth round of the Million… I’m here for a reason.” And, having been through a similar situation – I literally made essentially the same mistake at this event a year ago and got meme’d for it online – I was prepared to move forward with relatively thick skin.
As for the money and the consequences, I quickly reconciled the obvious fact: there was nothing I could do to undo the mistake I’d just made. That was done. The only thing that I had any degree of control over was what happened next. I’d made great runs all day, the dragster had been phenomenal, and I knew that I had as good a chance to win the event as anyone else still in the field. I just needed to choose to believe that I could continue to do so, despite the egregious error I’d just made.
At this point I’ll interject that my wife Jessica played a pivotal role. As I pulled back into our pit area with the Corvette, I was in the midst of processing all of this in my mind – working to cultivate the mindset that I’d need moving forward. As I got out of the car, I simply looked at her, shrugged my shoulders, and said “Whoops.”
That was it – it was like we both put it behind us collectively. She simply looked at me and said “Shake it off, you’ve got work to do.” It was brief, it was simple. It was something that from the outside, you wouldn’t give a second thought. But in that moment, it was everything I needed to hear. It was her way of saying, “I believe in you,” and reassuring me that whatever happens next, we’re in this together. It was subtle, but it was key.
As I stepped across the pit area and into the dragster, I knew – because all of the remaining competitors were already in staging before I made the run in the Corvette – that my two options were to either take the left lane opposite Jeff Serra, or flip for lanes with Cory Gulitti. If you follow big dollar bracket racing at all, you probably know the obvious: Jeff and Cory are arguably the two most successful drivers in the game right now. In short, I had to choose between two less-than-desirable options!
If I’m being honest, my first instinct was to pull down on the man who, a few rounds later, would be my final round opponent: Jeff Serra. I preferred the left lane at that point, and although Jeff puts a ton of pressure on his opponents, I thought it would be slightly less uncomfortable facing him essentially heads up than giving up about .3 in ET to Cory, who was driving one of the fastest cars on the property. So as I turned out of our pit area, that was my plan. But I called an audible for one simple reason: pairing with Jeff would’ve made me the second pair out. Pulling into line and flipping for lane choice with Cory meant we’d be last. I know this sounds crazy, but in that moment I felt like those extra 2-3 minutes to take a breath, process what just happened, and regain my composure was the one thing that I needed most. So I pulled in behind Cory.
Moments later, we had an epic matchup. My .009 reaction time matched his .010, and I was able to match my 4.64 dial-in with a 4.641 for a .010 package. For his part, Cory did a great job at the finish line, crossing first by just .007-of-a-second; but that put him .007 under the dial-in and advanced me to the quarterfinal round.
I’ll cut to the chase here: I was more excited to see that win light than any win light I’ve seen in a while (although I will admit that I was probably a bit more excited three rounds later!). Defeating Cory is an accomplishment in and of itself in any round, much less late in the Million. Even more so, I knew that I’d just stared adversity and failure dead in the face, and very intentionally set it aside, choosing instead to be intentionally optimistic about my chances and my performance. I don’t think it’s hyperbole to say that it was the single most gratifying and significant win light of my career.
Last month, I quoted tennis legend Pete Sampras, who once said: “The idea that none of the things that could go wrong would go wrong is borderline preposterous – except when it isn’t.”
That statement crossed my mind multiple times on Saturday night, April 6. Confidence is a choice. Confidence is easier with optimism. And optimism… Optimism is a choice as well.
