Circuit Racing : Paul Vieira’s machine

I have always found it fascinating how different we all are as people. Despite being products of the same process (hopefully), we arrive kicking and screaming with myriad preferences and differences, which begin to manifest themselves as soon as a mother’s final push delivers independence from the womb!

Here is an example. One of my co-workers spends a lot of his free time glued to the computer, ear phones in place and his head doing the swivel chair rock! What is he watching/ listening? Drumming! I have never asked how or why but his obsession is just that – watching and listening to individuals beat their sorrows away mercilessly on a variety of drums.

The first time I strapped on a pair of cricket pads I surmised that something was amiss. Being a rather short fellow and a victim of incorrect gear, the tallest point on the pads was a few centimeters from my chest! Comical – an understatement! So cricket wasn’t my calling, but I will raise a bat any day to the passionate cricket fans, especially those who watch and curse as the Windies lose a match, but still arise 2am another day to watch them do it all over again! Blind devotion!

Unlike the Fountain of Youth, some things we go in search of, may be easily found. I fell in love with cars and motorsports years ago and the experience at Dover Raceway a few days ago confirmed that the love affair has lost none of its fire.

I am a purist. I have a separate level of respect for a front engine, rear wheel drive race car, devoid of a lot of the driver aids which mask the true abilities of the driver.

The Bajans and the Guyanese landed on our shores for Round 1 of the CMRC and like a kid at the park I was blissfully buried in the deep sense of appreciation I had for a few of their machines. When I got to the track on Saturday (practice), I was met by the unmistakable sounds of speed, radiating from Paul Vieira’s RX7 as he reacquainted himself with Dover’s 1.6 miles of fun.

The little lump that could.

There is always room for a little low-tech – an appropriately placed oil bottle.

Beware, fire exits here.

Paul getting ready as his trusty mechanic looks on.

The machine chilling on the grid.

Cecil Munroe Gleaner On-Line Writer