I had two tenths when we cleared the tree, and I had my hands full as well. The Valiant had made a significant move to the wall when I pushed the nitrous button on the shifter about twenty feet out, so I was tasked with guiding it back to the groove with my left, while shifting to second with my right. Once I had successfully moved the old girl back to the center of my lane and made the 2-3 shift, I took a peek in the mirror for the Buick. I had five cars at least, so immediately I lifted off the nitrous and took another look to see if the turbo V-6 was going to make a charge. It appeared the race was pretty much over, but then the thought occurred to me,"I've never been nines in the Valiant so why am I being so conservative? Besides, the trans obviously has a problem, and I'm not going to outrun those mid eight second players in the field!"
"Screw it", I told myself aloud in the Valiant, and grabbed the nitrous again for the last 150 feet or so.

It was a long drive to the time slip booth, and my first thought when I glanced at the ticket was: "Wow! I have a legit nine second street car for the first time in my life!"
Before I made the turn into the pits, that thought was followed closely by another one:..."and it's a dang small block."