Ever been at the track, jonesing for food, and realized that while you made sure to buy 5 sets of goggles, 4 new tires, and an extra bike just for shits, you did not bring anything that is legitimately edible? Of course you have. Every racer has. Preparedness is for nerds. When it comes down to crunch time, moto BROs are resilient. Here’s a breakdown of the top 10 track foods on race day:
1. Hot Pockets: These little death traps give you third degree burns inside your mouth then immediately cool said burns down. No really though, I’ve never eaten a hot pocket that hasn’t been boiling hot on the outside but still frozen like an ice cube in the middle. What does that little sleeve do anyways? Come on Hot Pocket, get your shit together. A nightmare in a croissant. [note from Eazy: Seriously BRO? It's a widely known fact that hot pockets immediately turn from frozen center to lava hot in a matter of 3 seconds. It's just the luck of the draw.]
2. Microwaved Egg: Yeah, momma BROlo used to do this for us cause we were fancy and shit with our RV. Comes out looking like something from the Chernobyl Diaries but god dammit does it taste like some fine mutated egg.
3. 15 PB&J Sandwiches: Okay, dad went on a bit of a gambling spree one weekend and we couldn’t exactly spring for the fancier moto lifestyle. If you haven’t done this, you’re not a true BRO.
4. The same cold cuts for a year: You have to grow up sometime and mom and dad will eventually stop footing the bill for the races (for most of us). So what’s a true BRO to do? Rape Costco. Turkey and cheese is your favorite sandwich, right? Boom, I’ll take 30lbs of each, please. Sandwiches for the entire race season.
5. Lighter fluid-soaked burger: Remember last weekend when dad threw one of those mini propane tanks across the pits because they only last 6 minutes brand new? Yeah, well he decided to go out and get himself a fancy charcoal grill. Only problem is he’s had 10 BL’s before your second moto and he’s getting hungry. When those little bastards aren’t lighting there’s only one solution: Just fire hose some lighter fluid through the grates and let the whole track know you’re the boss of that grill, even if the food tastes like a gas station.
6. Boiled Hot Dog: We’ve all been there. It’s 6:30 and you’re just about to leave the track when your stomach lurches out a big “Fuck you.” So you visit the resident snack shack and the only edibles left are those same hot dogs that have been in the water pot since 9:00 this morning when the motos started. A man’s gotta eat though so you sack up and muscle that sucker down. You pay for it 30 minutes into your drive when you’re painting the porcelain brown at a local truck stop and some long hauler is carving a fresh glory hole for you two to get down.
7. Dirt: Well yeah, you knew that one was coming. Isn’t there some weird dog disease that people get from eating terrafirma, like from the shit that’s in it. Literally, shit.
8. Nothing: Obviously you’re the next Ricky Carmichael. So you decide instead of eating, you’ll save the money and enter two classes, 125 C and Open C. Just muscle through the Ethiopian-style muscle pains.
9. Denny’s/Applebee’s: You decided to round up the BRO’s and treat yourself to a real meal after taking home the bronze in the Open C like a boss but then you realize you’re stuck in some backwater ass town. Shitty food establishments seem to follow the motocross industry. Wherever there’s a track, there is surely a Denny’s or Applebees to follow. Hey, if it’s good enough for Ricky Bobby, it’s good enough for you. If you ain’t first, you’re last.
10. Other people’s food: Quite possibly one of the riskiest moves in all of moto. I sweat more doing this then a final turn last ditch block pass on the kid who takes medication to stay “balanced” and will probably stab me after the race to win my C moto. Ever stop by your buddy’s rig and no one is there? Well fuck if you didn’t just walk a mile and a half to get there you’re not leaving empty handed. So you scout out what he has, take one last look and then make a sandwich faster then Iron Chef and get the fuck out of there. Eat that shit on the walk back even, just in case he sees you, just say some BRO’s moms gave it to you after she blew you.
[Another note from Eazy: I firmly disagree with the last one. I eat other people's food all the time - track, party, hospital - wherever, whenever.]