Pinewood Derby

Winning without the trophy

When the Big Brother/Big Sister program made an appeal to upcoming seniors, Taylor wanted to lend a hand. A disadvantaged, at-risk kid himself, Taylor was fortunate to have three uncles who mentored him through his teen years. He also knew the feeling and stigma of living without a father.

Even though Taylor wasn’t much older than his Little Brother Marcus, he could just be a friend and help whatever way he could. He spent the entire Fall getting to know his Little Brother each week. Taylor was certain this program was helping him as much as it did Marcus.

The Cub Scouts’ Pinewood Derby race was nine weeks into the new year. All the Scouts had received their derby kits – a rectangle block of wood, four small nails, and four wheels, as well as rules and regulations for the weight and dimensions for the finished car.

Each Scout would get an opportunity to race their cars, and Scout packs would send their best three racers to district and regional events, and ultimately to the National Pinewood Derby Championships race.

First, though, the kids had to build a racer that would win locally.

That’s where Taylor stepped in to help Marcus. Marcus had no wood tools or skills, except for his pocket knife, and that was the place to start.

To build a finished car, they needed a winnable design. Taylor sketched out a few designs with Marcus. They chose the best design that would have the best chance of winning.

Week by week and little by little, they chipped away at the car. They weighed it each week to make sure it was still under the maximum weight. When derby officials designed the program, they knew that savvy engineer-type fathers would drop weights on the cars to make them soar down the 35-foot track, so they made a reasonable weight limit to enter the race.

The week before the event, Marcus took the lead in painting the car Red White and Blue with a number 07 on it. After it dried, they sprayed it with clear varnish to make the Number 07 car shine.

“Marcus, I’ve got some bad news for ya, buddy. I have a band practice scheduled on the night of the derby. Two full hours. They just announced it today at school. Your mom’ll be at the derby, right?”

Marcus nodded but only gazed at the floor, swirling his foot around

“I really wish I could be there, Champ, I really do. I mean, we worked – you worked pretty hard on this car, but truth be told…” Taylor paused and Marcus looked up.

“I think we have a winner here,” Taylor said. “But I need you to do one thing when you enter the car.”

“What’s that?”

“I’ve been thinking about this the past two weeks. I’ve looked at the design and the only glitch is this left front wheel. For some reason, the nail keeps coming out of the slot. But, if you’re able to be at the starting line and make sure that nail is in the slot, this, my friend, is the car to beat on race day. I’m convinced of it.”

“You think so?” Marcus asked.

Taylor put his arm around Marcus and said, “I’m sure of it. Sorry, I really wish I could be there.”

“That’s okay, band practice is important. You’ve got your big competition coming up so you need to be ready.”

“Thanks for understanding, though, that’s not as important as your race, let me tell you.”

Taylor walked Marcus through the design flaw once again, how it looked unfixed and how it looked repaired, only a slight variation between the two. 

On Race Day, Marcus and his mom together with sixty other Scouts and their parents eagerly crowded around the track to see their car get to the finish line.

All racers were required to put their cars on a long table and the judges would send the cars down the track. After the race began, no one was to touch the car except for the judges.

Marcus knew what that meant, and there was no way to fix it if the wheel got knocked out of joint.

Three by three the cars went down the track. First Place in each heat made it to the next level against the other winners of their heats. 

Even the dejected Scouts who lost their heats stood around the track to cheer for their friends’ cars.

Two heats before Marcus’ car was at the starting line, Taylor walked through the door. He spotted Marcus and his mom right away, and Marcus lit up when he saw him.

Taylor gave Marcus a side hug and together they watched Number 07 Red White and Blue limp down to the finish line, it’s left front wheel dislocated, just as Taylor had predicted.

Marcus’ mom whispered, “I don’t know how you did it, but we’re both glad you’re here.”

Taylor shook his head and smiled, “You don’t want to know, Mrs. B., and I’m very glad to be here. Much more important than band. Just sorry he didn’t win.”

“Oh, he won tonight, Taylor,” she said. “He won.”

*******