In this post we start with the practice grid manager, Grace, refusing to judge me by the same criteria that all other racers are judged, and forcing me down into Group 1 using made-up-on-the-spot rules. This is followed by Chris Van Andel threatening my life if I question her judgement.
Let’s start at the beginning. After racing with WERA for the last 3 years, I listened to some friends who were trying to get me to come back to the AFM. They assured me that the drama had stopped, and it was a great place to race. The racers in the AFM are definitely top notch friends and competitors, of this they were absolutely right. But these posts are about the AFM management and how they handle things. Let’s talk about how this played out.
Knowing that I didn’t want to be stuck in practice group 1 with the newbie racers, I contacted Paddy in advance to find out how practice groups were handled now. She informed me that people were assigned based on their fastest recorded lap at that track over the past three years. I sent her a copy of my AMB-registered times from a solo endurance race showing consistent laps (more than a sprint race’s worth of laps from a 20-lap race) in the 2:02s — easily within the times for practice group 3. Paddy said that I should bring a paper copy to tech inspection, as Grace was the only one who could change group assignments at the track.
Saturday morning I rolled my bike up for tech inspection, which I easily passed. Grace went to put a sticker for practice group 1 on my bike. I greeted her warmly (having not seen her in several years and being in a good mood) and showed her copies of both Paddy’s e-mail and my race time sheet.
As stated previously, the race sheet (which you can see on AMB’s MyLaps site) shows that in a 20-lap solo endurance race I did more than an entire sprint’s worth of laps below the cutoff for Practice Group 3. Note: This isn’t my fastest time ever at Buttonwillow. I brought this sheet because it was something I could reasonably expect to do, and because it showed a 19-lap consistency at that pace.
Grace looked at the sheet, then said there was nothing she could do — Paddy did all group assignments. At this point I showed her the other sheet where Paddy said that Grace had to do at-track changes to the groups, that she couldn’t change the assignment inside the computer system. Then she looked at the sheet and said that I wasn’t consistent at the times. I looked at the sheet with her, and my times were very consistent over the entire 20-lap race. Grace points at the starting lap — the lap recorded from a standing start — and says that this showed inconsistency. I explained that the first lap was from a standing start and that there had been a crash in turn 1 and another in turn 3 that I had avoided. As the remaining laps showed, I was very consistent. Grace just shook her head.
I asked her how other racers were assigned to practice groups, and she admitted that they were assigned based on their fastest times in the system over the past several years. So I asked why I was being judged by my slowest lap, rather than the fastest lap as the other riders were. At this point she became very agitated and said that her decision was final, that I would be assigned to Group 1.
At this point I became agitated as well. I requested to know why I was being judged differently from the other racers, and why it was a good idea to put me in with inexperienced riders. At this point, AFM President Chris Van Andel came over to see what was going on. I explained my concerns about inequal treatment.
Chris effectively told me to shut the hell up. No, he didn’t use those words, but he did it even more effectively than those words would. He informed me that he would personally move me up to Group 3 if I could go out there (he waved at the track) and do the same time as I was doing on this sheet.
Just to be clear: The track was very cold and had standing water on it from rain the previous night. What Chris did there was a deliberate death threat. It was an invitation to commit suicide. To put it in perspective, last year the person who won the races that day (Dan Sewell) did consistent 1:54 laps in the 20-lap solo endurance race last year. He didn’t do a single lap as fast as what was shown on the sheet during practice. His average lap speed in 650 Production was 2:02 — the same lap time I was supposed to meet just to get into Group 3.
I’m not the slowest guy on the track, but I’m also not Dan Sewell. Recognizing the death threat for what it was, I shut up and walked back to my pit. And went out in Practice Group 1, where I lapped the entire field 2x in each practice session. I passed 7 riders between turn 1 and turn 3. I was passing people so fast that I was negotiating riders in every corner on the track because I would see them, catch them, pass them and catch the next. My times were faster than the average times in Practice Group 3 that day, but I was tooling around in Group 1 with a huge disparity in speeds.
But no, nobody including Dan Sewell was doing 2:02s in practice that morning. I had been given an impossible limit, a demand that I be the very best racer on the track to get out of Group 1. It wasn’t fair, and I was very frustrated.
But, I told myself, let me finish well and demonstrate that I’m on pace and we shouldn’t have a problem at the next track. They’ll be reasonable then, won’t they? Oh, what a fantasy that was. This was just the start of watching the AFM demonstrate that ethics, fairness, and even rider safety were not worth considering. The only thing that mattered to them was exerting their power over us, and their ability to act out personal vendettas.
Next up: Lap times? What lap times?