Who is Joey Novice, you may ask? He is one and he is many. Joey Novice exists in multiple forms, each one recognizable in an instant. You think you have never heard of Joey Novice, but you have seen him at the track many a time. You know, visor down to the mouthpiece (if any visor at all), some black fenders (but not the rest of the plastics, that wouldn’t be gnarly), definitely an untucked jersey, because what is this, a dirtbike race or a job interview? Please. Or he just takes the form of Robbie Fucking Knievel. Joey is the reason that we all line the fences for the 250 Beginner class. At any given moment, his cool mindset on the bike could explode in a veritable volcano of emotion and cause him to become his and every other rider’s worst enemy, sort of a Jekyll and Hyde type of deal. Joey Novice spooks easily, and when he has 450cc underneath him, that can turn into a serious problem for everyone on the track. But for those of us in the stands, it is an absolute rollercoaster of entertainment. It’s like being at the zoo and seeing the zebra get into the cheetah pen. He is totally fucked, but we are just brimming with excitement at the possibility that Mr. Zebra is almost definitely leaving in pieces. In a time when Joey can just simply turn the throttle off and pull in the clutch until he regains his composure, the logical part of his brain gets cross-wired in a phenomenon that modern science cannot explain, and he just pulls that bitch wide open. Perhaps he really takes the idea of holding it wide open when you get messed up in the air to heart. If it works in the air, it must work NOT in the air, right?
Speaking of messed up in the air, I’d say a solid 60-70% of the amusement that Joey provides is in the masterful acrobatics that he manages to pull every time those wheels leave the ground. As if trying to fly the bike like an Olympic ski jumper, Joey just pulls that front end up for days. Here again is an instant in Joey behavior that is literally unexplainable. Rather than compensate by leaning his body forward, Joey remains on a level plane with his body in relation to the motorcycle (see the photos). As he lands, his body is violently forced back on the bike, and his wobbly head comes crashing down harder than J-Law’s career. But it doesn’t matter, Joey just sacks up and hits every jump on the track. His mindset works a little something like this: only faggots don’t do the jumps, right? In his mind, going slow through the corners only means more time to lock eyes with the honeys lining the track, maybe even exchange numbers, there’s certainly enough time to do so. He knows that it’s the jumps that get you paid, and it’s the jumps that get you laid. Joey is just humoring this idea of racing as a jacking off - sorry, jumping off - point to his freestyle career. It is only a matter of time before Rockstar or Red Bull discovers his fluidity and unique style and signs him to the Crusty tour or the Nuclear Rednecks or something like that. So a salute to you, Joey Novice, and your unrelenting desire to test the theory that the sky's the limit.
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