Darren was complaining that the 440 was making some noise in the Charger, so we pulled the valve covers for a look, and ended up tightening up a couple of rockers.
"I need another 11.50 car to run with, so I can pace myself", Dale lamented.
"Well, you got one right here!" I exclaimed.
"What do you mean?" he looked up from the Charger's fender.
"You two need to run each other, and hopefully we can end up with a couple of 11.50's or 60's".

They rolled into the water box at 11:30 am and cleaned off the tires. Dale strapped 5 hundredths on Darren at the tree, and the Satellite put another 13 hundredths on the Charger in the first 60ft. At the 1/8th mile the Satellite had 33 feet on the Charger, and as they came by our vantage point, I saw Dale hang his right arm over the seat and motion to Darren to come get him!
"Dang it Dale, you're on a killer pass, back into him", I exhorted, knowing full well this was more about showing Darren up than it was about getting us the number we needed.
Just past the 1000' I saw the nose drop on the Charger as Darren gave up the chase, the Satellite leveled out shortly after that, but he was still more than a two cars ahead. Then, thirty feet from the finish line, Dale decided to give it a victory romp and laid back into the Satellite, lighting the board with another wasted 11.499-105.72 to Darren's 11.76-108.60! I threw my hat on the ground in disgust and let loose a few curse words, "I have no idea how many mid 11 second passes that poor car has in it, and that idiot is determined to break it before we get this thing done!"
Dad was laughing at me, "Get out there and do it yourself, you're the one that put him behind the wheel!"