One man's airplane was a little better than the other's for eight laps.

It's not about jumping a start, or whether your ADI is working, or your aircraft is fifty miles an hour faster because it's sliding through the air on the oil slick your engine is creating. Ultimately, it's about fate and destiny...

...some are fated to win, while others are destined to lose.

And in Air Racing, as with any other motorsport, there are few guarantees that a man's luck will change for the good, and too many guarantees that his luck will turn bad.

As for guarantees, one can seek and find what they will.

On one hand, you have yourself that you can count on; on the other, you may depend on sponsorship, or suffer from a lack thereof; and yet there is a third hand one is dealt: who your friends are. That's your "Team" in the end.

One can say that winning the race and the purse that comes with it, might make a financial difference in the outcome of an aircraft's performance by the time that next race rolls around, but think about it...

...how much of the winnings will Terry Bland need to buy a new engine to replace the one he just lost in Dago Red—shortly after it's fateful takeoff—in search of the illusive 500 mph lap?

No, in the end, it takes stamina and courage to win, along with a mixture of those other ingredients previously aforementioned—and not just a little luck to go along with them.

If you intend to win the race, your first duty is to enter, and that takes guts. Then, you must find a way to stay in the race, and finish—and that, too, takes guts. But must one finish first?

Some will tell you: "Second place is just another word for loser." Others will tell you that "To merely have been in the race makes you a winner."

Whether one has one or lost—that they must decide for themselves.

However, all must risk to reap the reward, and in Air Racing, the reward is not always going to be monetary.

That will always be the Air Racer's creed, and not his ultimate epitaph.