The Rivi Journal
My first word wasn’t “mommy” or “daddy.” It was “car.” It only got worse from there… My old man, bless his misguided soul, attempted to quench this insatiable thirst by thrusting me into the world of go-cart racing at the tender age of six. But that only served to stoke the flames of my vehicular passion. By the time I hit fifteen, we were already bending the truth about my age and campaigning a Super Gas car on the NHRA circuit. As I matured, so did my appetite for speed, transitioning seamlessly into the realm of open-wheel racing across the …