Pulling, Thank You.
Thank You, Pulling.
Today’s specific iteration of “This Week in Pulling” falls squarely between two significant dates. On this Monday morning, I find myself looking back and reflecting on this weekend’s celebrations and accolades of the Outlaw Truck and Tractor Pulling Association’s awards banquet, and looking forward to the Thanksgiving Holiday, just a few days around the corner. Celebration, and thanks. Reflection, and anticipation.
Today’s article will present itself much more as a personal narrative than an unbiased bit of journalism. I won’t be highlighting any particular driver, team, pull, or spectacle. This edition is closer to home. This is my letter, my appreciation, and my thank you to truck and tractor pulling.
Thank you, pulling. The sport of truck and tractor pulling, over the three decades of my life, has given me wild, party-esque memories, and thrilling entertainment as it has done all of us. But it has also bore to me the yield of wonderful friendships, family relationships, and even the fruition of a dream.
My earliest memories of pulling, or earliest memories of life in general to be honest, were founded at the Macon County Fairgrounds, in Macon, Missouri where my father would take me each and every year to the “Show-Me Show-Down.” This was a three-day NTPA Grand National sanctioned pull through the late 1980’s to the mid 1990’s. The golden era of pulling. The grandeur and excitement presented in this atmosphere to a young boy made me certain that these pullers out on the track shared a celebrity status equal only to the biggest of rock stars, and premier professional athletes of the day. You’d say Michael Jordan, I’d have said Banter Brothers. You mention The Rolling Stones, I’d ask if you’d seen Bad Medicine? Red Horse, 4-Play, and the Irish Challenger were living legends in my mind.
I was a self-realized man, however. We had sold the farm in 1996. There was no agricultural equipment around the Eitel household. As bad as I wanted to be a part of this world, it was clear to me from a very early age, I didn’t have the proper background to be in the seat of one of these beasts of the track. This wasn’t a particular let down, as I can remember the exhilaration mingled with bits of containable fear every time, I’d watch Brent Long’s light super stock go down the track. I’ll let those guys, the drivers, stick to managing these horsepower monsters.
The voices are what sowed the seeds of my inspiration. Each year I would listen, on the edge of my seat, as PC Long (our local color commentator, and later wonderful friend of mine), and Doc Riley spoke on behalf of each competitor who silently did battle behind their helmets. If the pullers were rock stars, the guys up on-stage speaking were downright legends. That is where I dreamt of being one day.
The years turned to decades. The times got busier. But the love of pulling never faded. Dad and I expanded our horizons. Macon became Mound City. Mound City became Tomah. Tomah led to Bowling Green, Chapel Hill, Hillsborough, and Fort Recovery. It was our favorite hobby, and our most enjoyable pastime. As I was lucky enough to become a father of my own in the meantime, twice over, pulling became a way for my sons and I to bond. We’d push around tractors on the living room floor, just as I had done as a child. Life was good. The dream of announcing, or being an active member of the pulling world, was filed deep in the recesses of the backs of my mental cabinet. Truth be told, this is where most childhood dreams for most folks end up. Time marches on, and we count our blessings in front of us. While the dreams lay dormant, all but forgotten about. Afterall, we can’t all grow up to be astronauts and professional baseball players.
I am a lucky man. The fates of pulling saw fit to blow the dust off that old file and bring it screaming to the front lines one fateful July day last year. Turns out if you go to enough pulls, and make enough noise, someone is bound to hear you. The great folks at Beer Money Pulling Team, in conjunction with the Outlaw Truck and Tractor Pulling Association, decided to take a gamble on me.
Fast forward a year and a half later, after a season of helping produce, film, and announce over thirty pulls, I found myself celebrating with my new Outlaw family. Thank you, pulling. Thirty years after the dream was conjured, I consider myself one of the most blessed men in the Midwest. Very few folks are privileged enough to live out their childhood dreams. The sport of truck and tractor pulling allowed me to live mine.
Thank you to all the fans who support everything we do in the media and promotional aspect of this great sport. Thank you to the drivers for being the rock stars that put on the show. Thanks to all who work in this sport. And thank you to the sport itself.
Green Flags and Tight Chains
Pulling is fun.
Mike Eitel
Engagement Specialist
Beer Money Pulling Team
Michael.eitel.bevier@gmail.com
660.342.0206
