Despite having to get up early for the Busch race the next day, we went out for a bit on Friday night to do some casino hopping. But before that... guess what?!?...

I GOT TO MEET WARD BURTON!!!

Can 'ya believe it? Before we left on the trip I did a little research and found a page that listed where and when drivers would be doing autograph signings. See? There IS a good use for the internet! While all the "fancy" drivers were at the big Strip hotels and casinos, good ol' Ward could be found down at Johnny Walker RV, a few miles out of town on the Boulder Highway.

I wasn't sure we were in the right place, but I did notice lots of folks milling around in now-obsolete CAT 22 gear, so I knew we were on the right track. We got in a line in the back lot that snaked it's way forward, disappearing into the back of an RV. We slowly got closer, rounded the corner, and... THERE HE IS!!! THE MAN!!! THE GUY WHO WON THE 2002 DAYTONA 500!!! THE GUY WHO WAS MAYBE 20 FEET AWAY WHEN STERLING MARLIN GOT OUT OF HIS CAR AND DID THE INFAMOUS FENDER-PULL!!! DAMMIT!!! I should have asked him what went through his mind when Sterling did that! DAMMIT!!!

A teacher of mine once said, with a note of sadness, "meeting your heroes is always a humbling experience." When I first laid eyes on him, my first thought was what everyone thinks when they first meet their hero... "I thought he'd be taller." I tromped up the ramp, smiling, and stuck out my hand. My mouth said "Ward Burton! It's pleasure to meet you!," while my brain said "Don't say anything stupid! Don't say anthing stupid!"

"Wheh you bowahs frum" asked Ward.

"We came from San Francisco" I said, stating the obvious.

We bantered a bit while a perky JWRV employee snapped our picture using my disosable camera. I made some crack about "San Francisco not being the hotbed of stock car racing you may have been led to believe," which got a chuckle. I think I also made some joke about having to buy all new merchandise. Finally, we had to be polite and move on; Ward had lots of folks to meet. He signed my CAT hat, and we parted ways.

"It wus a pleasure meetin you bowahs" said Ward, graciously, shaking my hand for the fifth time. We walked back through the RV-strewn lot, clutching our autograped hand-bills.

"He didn't like me," piped up Swirly.

"What makes you say that?"

"I don't know. I could tell."