Later that day, sitting on pit wall just minutes before the start discussing strategy (or the complete lack thereof), James hit me with this: "Why don't you start the race?" I looked at him like he was nuts. I mean, I'd only done one lap of the new circuit, and he wanted me to dive into Turn One surrounded by 30 or 40 club-racing crazies on a motorcycle I'd never even swung a leg over. "You're kidding, right?" I asked him. "I'm not," he said, half-laughing. "Look, we're not out here to win our class or anything."