Ginger Dog
Welcome to the 53rd annual dirt bike games! In honor of The Games, I thought it would be fun to raise awareness to the lesser districts, and by lesser districts, I mean the privateers in district 12. Surprise: it’s reaping day. You have your name in the bowl too many times. Tesserae. Make your family proud. It’s okay. You’re fast. Your dad was fast. It’s all you’ve ever known. But you’re a privateer. Not as fast as the Careers (factory riders). They have money and big mouths. Did I say money? MONEY. They have been training for this since the day they were born. Daddy had big dreams and now it’s on you. Let’s go.
The big question remains: lineage or raw talent? Do the stars align and you win? Or do you fail? Surname or skill?
Rodbell sent the signal. Three fingers please and thanks. He whistled his way into forth and promised to fix my AC the next day. He never asked for help either. He doesn’t need the satisfaction of a big team or sponsor helping him out (although a parachute of fresh goggles with a roll off system would have helped…thanks for the help A-Ray…not.) He paved his own way, with the help of the “little people” helping his rebellion. No GoFundMe’s or handouts along the way. All Rodbell needed was a borrowed 250 from his ally Mason Kerr and he put it to the guys who practice on freshly manicured tracks everyday. Let that sink in.
The underdog had his day to rise up and show that he doesn’t need to practice on a supercross track during the week. He just needs to help rescue a woodpecker from an exhaust port, or maybe a dead kitten from the HVAC system. Rodbell is our hero…at least for this week.
The arena was a muddy quagmire mess and the game makers made sure that no riders could be distinguished. Rodbell had no idea he was in third (until they displayed the sky recap).
Another tribute, Gage Linville from District 11, survived the cornucopia; he fell off the side and away from a sliding tidal wave from RJ Hampshire. He would mount a charge that saw him overtake Rodbell in the later stages of the games. Neither one of these rebels knew where they stood against the careers, but they both had their day. They had won the dirt bike games…and they didn’t even have to threaten eating poisonous berries for the game makers to get them out of the arena.
Linville and Rodbell may have just put in the best performances of their lives. No factory bikes, no mechanic (in the case of Rodbell), no team salary, and no factory parts. No GoFundMe accounts. They did it with the lowest level of support. Rodbell, by himself…Linville on the little Dirt Bike Depot team that could.
And they both did.
May the odds be ever in their favor.
Images: @octopi.media
