PHOTO: JOHN DIBARTOLOMEO
cedure for the Spring Fling promoters, known
for providing dozens of prizes and rewards for
their racers.
“Peter Biondo jumped in the Firebird and drove
it down to my pit space for me,” recalls Verdi.
“The limo took us down to the Cosmopolitan and,
of course, I brought the trophy with me. So, we
pull up in this new Challenger limo surrounded
by people and I’m carrying this big gold trophy
with ‘Million’ on it. We get back to the room and
we’re calling and talking to people, but it’s three
o’clock in the morning, so it’s six o’clock back in
Richmond. There’s nothing to do. I was like, ‘Man,
we gotta race in four or five hours.’”
Verdi really felt lucky after running first round
of Saturday’s race, even though he was unable to
turn on the win-light.
“I lost first round on a red light,” he says, plainly.
“I left the car alone from the night before and
came up red. I was .014 in the final and .002
red first round the next morning with the same
numbers in the box, so I just hit it right on the
right run there.”
Now out of races left to run, Verdi was finally
able to absorb everything that happened over
June 2016
Buzz the Tower
Verdi had to decide which of his cars to
take to Vegas, but the choice was clear
when he considered the thousands of laps
he made in his Top Gun ‘68 Firebird. It was
one of two all-Pontiac race cars left in contention in the semifinals of the Million race.
the last 24 hours. His wife purchased a plane
ticket when he won on Friday night, so she was
already on her way out to Vegas to congratulate
her husband and replace Loan on the ride back
to Virginia, as he had to get back to work after
taking a week off.
“My wife said she got a plane ticket and she was
flying out. She had never been on a plane all her
life. She got out there on Saturday night and we
went to dinner. They put us up in the Cosmopolitan for winning the race, room service, a limo
ride to and from the track. They just do it up right,
Peter and Kyle. No expense spared. I got a nice
watch with the Spring Fling stuff engraved on it,
then of course the jacket and the trophy and the
check and the money. All that stuff was unreal.”
T
he next morning, Jeff and
Susan were met with the sobering
reality that another 2,300-miles
stood between them and home.
They hopped into the Chevy pickup and departed The Strip at Las
Vegas Motor Speedway on Sunday
afternoon. Fortunately, the ride back to Glen
Allen wasn’t nearly as bad as the gremlin-plagued
trip out West.
“It really wasn’t too bad,” he says. “My wife was
going to ride back with me, so that was pretty
cool. I wasn’t going to be by myself. I was worried
about the truck for a little while. I loaded up
the truck on Saturday, which is when I lost first
round. I was more worried about getting back to
reality at home with work and the kids and the
dogs and the cutting grass – the things you do
at home when you’re not racing and goofing off.
As far as the ride back, it wasn’t bad. Just drove
from seven or eight in the morning until seven
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