Ken Roczen got beat at Oakland. He admitted it. “I have to give it up to Ryan [Dungey]. Three in a row is really hard to do, especially with how deep the field is. He’s been really on point with his starts, and no mistakes, so bottom line he’s doing really good at the moment.”
Roczen won in Phoenix. Even still, he said, “You could see Ryan [Dungey] caught me a little bit here and there, and I definitely think the biggest part was in the whoops.”
Eli Tomac was better a week ago in Phoenix, but still faded in the final few laps. That wasn’t the biggest factor, though. The real challenge isn’t just the final laps, it’s the talent he’s up against. “Dungey’s riding pretty unbelievable and Kenny’s riding awesome too. Shoot, those guys are really on their game right now.”
Jason Anderson won the opener at Anaheim, explained that he knew the rest of the field would step up, and then owned it last week. “Dungey’s just been riding good too as well,” he said. “Tonight, I was right behind him at the beginning and he ended up second. So I feel like I should have latched onto him a little bit sooner, but whenever he had that little gap I was trying to catch him and I kind of overrode a little bit.”
Cole Seely finished a strong second last night in San Diego, and didn’t hide. "Dungey didn’t make any mistakes and was able to run just a little bit faster than me,” he said.
Last week Davi Millsaps led for a bit and ended up fifth. “Obviously you can’t be that bummed, those guys are ready to do that pace for 20 laps and I’m not. I’m not scared to say that,” he said to our Steve Matthes.
Guys, where are the mind games?
We’ve spent a lot of years complaining about generic podium speeches, but the last few years have hosted a quiet revolution. Quiet is the operative word here, because the last two boss men of the U.S. motocross and supercross world, Ryan Villopoto and Ryan Dungey, patrolled the top spot with a moto that Teddy Roosevelt would like: talk softly and carry a big stick. And we’re not talking about “Golden Rod” Dungey.
By the time The Ryans are through winning—and looking at Dungey right now it doesn’t look like any end is in sight—supercross will be scrubbed of the mind games that defined previous generations. Back when Ricky Carmichael was playing mind games 24/7, back when Chad Reed would never, ever, ever admit defeat, back when Jeremy McGrath was going out of his way to make it look easy, or back when Jean-Michel Bayle was eating Kit-Kat bars directly in front of Jeff Stanton. Back in those days, you could hear what the riders said, but had to think about what what they meant.
These days, you don’t need any sort of translation. They just say the truth!
That’s cool for us. Those that actually listen to those post-race quotes parse every one for reasons and excuses, and signs weakness, toughness or arrogance. But The Ryans plowed through years of interviews without showing any one of those things. They were just dead neutral throughout all, a remarkable achievement considering how many interviews they have done. By now, I think everyone has forgotten that you can play the game by not playing games.
The Ryans? They just race.
It wasn’t always like that. Supercross used to hold post-race press conferences and I hosted them from 2005 through 2010. Those days, even these pressers became part of the race. Well, at least until 2010, when the season boiled down to Dungey and Villopoto.
It was more complicated before them. For a few years, the top-three podium guys would come to the stage and answer questions side by side. It wasn’t dramatic, because in the mind games era, a rider would say nothing if a rival sitting right beside him. So we eventually separated the riders and had each take the stand solo. But that didn’t change much, because somewhere in the back of the room, you’d see an, ahem, representative from the competition listening closely.
“I know Chad [Reed] is interested in what I’m saying because I see his trainer Jeff Spencer in the back of the room taking notes right now,” said Kevin Windham once in 2004.
Four years later the roles were flipped. Spencer was working for Windham and managing the back of the room scribbling notes about Chad’s interview.
Carmichael was a master of the post-race presser, using them to frame whatever message he needed. In 2006 he was penalized 25 points for illegal fuel, went out and won the next race in Atlanta, then used the post-race conference to hold court about the bogus fuel tests were, and how he was ready to quit the series. Before long, he had his points back. That was the highest-profile incident, but he had dropped plenty of messages before.
Oddly, Carmichael never won Anaheim 1, but to stem any confidence boost for his competitors could get from winning early, he invented “The series begins after Daytona.” He knew the right people were listening—not just Jeff Spencer, but people like James Stewart, Sr.
Big James didn’t hide in the back of the room, he would often just ask questions himself! He was always respectful to Ricky, but often listened with a raised eyebrow as Reed tried to deflect another loss. Reed was amazing with the defense—a lawyer couldn’t have broken him down. A lie detector test would have been proven untruthful. Reed couldn’t quite match Ricky or James from 2005-2007, but he never once admitted straight-up defeat. It was frustrating to hear at the time, but this is why Reed is still going strong today. In moments that would have permanently harmed the confidence of others, Reed made sure to never give in.
By the end of 2006 we had an amazing setup for the season finale in Las Vegas, Carmichael and Reed tied for the points lead, Stewart just five back. All three scratched and clawed for confidence, and tried to find something to calm the nerves. Stewart was the youngest of the three and kept putting it out there, letting it be known that it would be a bonus to win the title at just 20 years old. Hey, no pressure, I’m just the young guy!
Carmichael kept reminding everyone that he DNFed in St. Louis with a broken shock. The point? He was the better rider all year—he was just unlucky. Confidence, confidence, confidence. Stewart went on to win the race, but Carmichael had just enough points to win the AMA Supercross Championship.
Carmichael had been especially hard on Reed that year in the pressers. After the race, he admitted that was as much to pump himself up as it was to put Reed down—when a title comes down to the final race, you do whatever you can to put yourself in the right frame of mind.
Today’s guys? We’re not hearing any of that. They just race, they talk about their race, they do it again the next week. It could get a little more tense if the championship went down to the wire, but Dungey and Roczen went through that as teammates during the Lucas Oil Motocross Championship two years ago, and neither uttered a cross word. It’s just never going to happen.
Of course when Ryan Dungey is winning like he is right now, what else is there to say?
