Carpe Diem - Jesse 3 Read Free Page A

Marco Santini.”
    Jesse leaned in to Coach’s ear as we walked. “Still an asshole, I see.”
    “Jess, don’t get started. Remember what I told you?”
    “No kidding. But those two dickheads are thick as thieves and I don’t trust them as far as I can throw them.”
    Jesse pushed his hand through his hair and furrowed his brow. Every muscle in his arms twitched as he stomped around the corner of the next tent set up. I had to pick up my pace to keep up with him and Coach. When he saw me hurrying to catch up, he stopped and waited for me while Coach went on ahead.
    I looked at Jesse, worried. “I don’t get it. They’re your team members. Aren’t you supposed to all get along? I mean, pull together as a team?”
    We were just outside the mechanics’ crew area and Jesse shook his head. “Coach warned me about Marco. Before I signed back on the team, a Brazilian jerk-wad, Marco Santini, was supposed to move up into the 450 class, but now that I’m back, I have that spot and Marco’s got his panties all in a bunch.”
    Coach waited for us a few strides ahead. He had a pensive look on his face as he studied Jesse’s reaction, but Coach struck me as the type of guy who knew how to handle these testosterone-laden prima donna’s. I knew how fierce of a competitor Jesse was and, even after meeting a guy with a name like “Ice,”” I was confident Jesse was the best rider on the team. I just wasn’t sure if his hair-trigger temper would be the best thing for the team.
    We kicked up the dust of the well-worn paths as we snaked our way deeper into the support team area, where I was introduced to the rest of the crew. These were the people working behind the scenes. The entire operation was bigger than I had imagined. I’d never realized how many people it takes to keep a motocross team running. Each rider had a tuning specialist assigned to their bike, whose only purpose was to keep the performance of the engine top notch. There were various other mechanics and each one was assigned a special task. One was in charge of suspension, another one worked on the brakes and so on. In total, there were more than fifteen mechanics, working night and day, to press the best performance out of the bikes.
    Even the riders were “tuned up,”” so to speak. Besides the mechanics there were three physical therapists, two trainers and two doctors on the team to keep the riders in prime form. Motocross was an elite sport, one with a unique and demanding skill set and the physical trials were tough. Jesse, Ice, Marco and the others had to spend several hours a day in a rigid physical training program. There was even a psychologist on the team to help lift the morale and keep each rider focused, with laser like precision, and not jeopardize the integrity of the team. It was all about winning and I had seen firsthand how it had affected Jesse when he couldn’t ride; when his body was not the fine-tuned machine he needed for this kind of work.
    By the last leg of our tour of the training camp I was mentally exhausted. My mind was full of names I was sure I would forget in the soup of information overload that swirled inside my head. And one thing was certain: I was very happy we were not staying at the training camp with all of the other riders. Though I had seen one female mechanic, this was a man’s world and I was grateful that Jesse had made the sacrifice to commute to the camp every day from our hotel in Milan.
    I sat perched on the bumper of a large pickup truck, patiently waiting while Jesse and Coach discussed the next six weeks of training plans. Coach looked over at me with my chin in my hand and said, “Well, Jess, enough talk for today. Let’s get your pretty little lady over to the hotel.” He gave him a friendly guy-slap on the back and Jesse came over to take my hand.
    “I’m sorry, babe, you must be so bored with all this. Let’s get out of here.”
    “Finally,” I burst out with a laugh. “I can’t wait to