February. Daytona. Three hundred laps launch the racers into the Piston Sippy Cup season. The weather is warm, their tires are even warmer as they run practice laps around the super speedway. For the first time in months, race fans have gathered to get their fill of loud engines, close racing, and united Piston Cup fan culture. It's long overdue.

"How was that time around?" Adam asks, three laps into a practice session that ends in five minutes.

"Two-tenths slower, the bottom hasn't come in yet," Cal replies. "Still pretty green out there."

"Alright, time to try the top. Couple more tries."

Two minutes are left. Adam makes as many laps as he can in the time remaining. Some are a few hundredths quicker, some a smidge slower, but mostly consistent. He doesn't clock the quick time of the day, but that's fine. Race dynamics in the draft can't be compared to lone practice sessions.

"Boy's sure got some talent, don't he?" Tex observes as his newly christened racer slides off the track and down pit row. "It's almost like he inherited it from someone."

"It's like he's learnt it from one of the best, ain't it?" Strip muses sarcastically.

Cal turns to confront his company. He looks down at them from his perch atop the pit box and shrugs.

"Ah, well, we're all…"

"Must be a McQueen fan," Tex interjects.

Cal sighs, his expression flattening.

"Really Tex? Even after I'm retired."

"Well, you ain't got no dirt background, do you? I see no Dirt Bowl trophies in your repertoire."

"It didn't exist back then!"

Strip smiles and rolls forward into the pit box as Adam comes to a stop.

"Good drive out there, Adam," he compliments his younger relative. "I like consistency like that."

"Thanks," Adam chirps. "I think we're a little tight in one and two, can't get very close to the wall. Oh, and uh, dad you never turned the channel on the radio – Tex is right you know."

"What?" Cal asks, his voice heightening an octave.

"I'm joking, you know that," Adam waves off his father's distress. "I mean, mostly, anyway – McQueen was a good dirt racer. He ran a couple Dirt Bowl races for fun, remember?"

"I remember you beating him."

"Once – he got me the other time."

"But still, you – "

Tex cut Cal off, knowing full well the boy could argue pointlessly until the end of time.

"Come on, boys, let's go back to the garage, see what we can fix, get you ready for the race. Final adjustments gotta be done in the next hour."

A track bar adjustment here, a change in tire pressure there, and one last mechanical validation means that the newly formed Team Dinoco, Sippy Cup edition, is officially ready to roll. Outside the garage, the media teams lurk, waiting for the highly anticipated racers of tomorrow to emerge.

"Alright, I'll meet you at the pits, got some stuff to do first," Cal tells Adam. "You just go out there, give the fans what they want, do some publicity, enjoy yourself. Then we're gonna win us a race."

"Yes, sir!" Adam revs his engine in a burst of enthusiasm.

Several cars turn to look at he drives out into the glinting sunlight, his orange paint illuminating the atmosphere around him. It's the start of something new, something positive.

"Never thought we'd have a stake in the Sippy Cup," Tex chuckles.

"Says the car who sponsors every single race in some capacity or another," Cal retorts.

"Once you go big time, you don't really think about going backwards, creating another team."

Strip joins the conversation in all seriousness before heading out to observe the action that's awaiting the track.

"I'm glad you're giving him a shot, Tex. Kid deserves it. Nice to not throw him right into the fire of the Cup series when he's so young."

"Like I did with you?" Tex smiles. "I don't regret doing that – but you're right. If we work Adam in at the right pace, he might even be able to outdo what you've done some day."

"That'd be something, wouldn't it?" Cal puts on his headset and starts for the pits after double-checking his radio frequencies.

"You ready for this Cal?" Strip asks him before he can get far.

"Ready for what, the race?"

"To crew chief. I expected more questions outta you."

Cal shrugs. "It's just talking racing, figuring out what he needs. It's a natural thing, I've raised him, I know how he is."

Strip nods and Cal continues on his way, skirting the mob of interviewers that are getting the latest scoop on the youngest Weathers' Piston Sippy Cup debut. The older cars stay back and watch the scene unfold. It doesn't seem so long ago that they were starting fresh on the main circuit, experiencing these same things.

"What do you think, top ten?" Tex asks.

"Hmm." Strip ponders it a moment. "I'm gonna say top five. I think he can do it."

Tex laughed.

"Over confident, as usual."