Overall, this sport is pretty simple. We don’t have timeouts or Xs and Os or pit stops or strategy—just riders going all-out for twenty laps. There are small strategic and random elements that add a few variables to the game, but Ryan Dungey has become so good lately that he’s even wiped that stuff out.
-- First off, Ryan used to have trouble making quick passes early in the race. Then, 30 seconds later, we’d all add, “Love his consistency, though.” Well, I mistakenly thought those two things were related. Do you think it was a coincidence that Ryan was slightly more conservative in the most chaotic moments of a race but also stayed off the ground for so long? He couldn’t possibly go nuts on lap one and still ride error-free, right? Well, he has! These days Ryan makes the most aggressive moves on the first lap yet has not added any crashes or mistakes to his game at all. He’s taken one small strategic thing we knew about him and wiped it off the slate.
Dungey has been a very good rider for a long time now, but he never really created highlight moments in the past. Even when he did pass riders, he just passed them—he didn’t blow by them. But this year he’s indeed blasting past dudes. In Atlanta he had to make a few passes early and blew some doors off. Over the weekend Justin Bogle snuck inside in turn one (pulling “a Dungey,” in fact), and Dungey just exploded the inside of a berm—and made ever-so-slight contact with Bogle’s front wheel—to take over the lead with dictator-like authority. He’s riding on the edge at the scariest time to do it—when he hasn’t raced on the track in over an hour—and still not making any mistakes.
-- Ryan doesn’t “back it down” just because he has a points lead. Did you notice that he won over the weekend? I’ve long advocated that riders don’t have a switch on the handlebars that lets them dial it back a few percentage points depending on the standings. They just ride like they know how to ride. In this case, Ryan had the lead and someone was all over him. He did not want to get passed, and he did not want to lose the race. He rode as hard as he could. He won. Forget any talk of strategy or backing it down. Ever.
-- Starts are supposed to be a variable. They’re supposed to be somewhat random. Yes, we know Mike Alessi is an awesome starter and Mike LaRocco was a terrible starter. Everyone in between has their share of holeshots and crap starts. But Ryan has made starts predictable as well! Dungey has been at the sharp end of the field in just about every heat and main event. He was stuck in the pack through the first turn in Glendale. That’s about the only race I can think of where he wasn’t up front immediately. Starts are supposed to be random. With Dungey, they’ve become a constant.
-- Winning is supposed to change a rider. It’s supposed to give him a skewed perspective on life, because soon the tiny motocross world we live in starts to revolve around him. That creates an ego, it creates yes men, it creates a scenario where the rider is insulated from anything negative and believes every decision he makes is right. Winning also pulls a rider in a thousand directions, and soon he just wants a break from all the nonstop sponsor and fan obligations. This makes the winning rider pull further inward. He will hide in his motor home or the team semi to avoid more obligations. He’ll stop answering his phone. He becomes more insulated and more aloof, and more weird.
Ryan Dungey emerges from his motor home every night, when most riders are gone, to sign autographs. And when the celebs from other sports come to check out supercross, they come to check in on him. His door always seems to be open for everyone.
-- Winning also creates pressure. Soon the top rider goes from racing to win to racing not to lose. Championships and race wins are met not with joy but relief. Winning creates weirdness, aloofness, and pressure. It can eat away at a rider.
Jeremy McGrath seemed to be the only rider who handled all of that without changing one bit. He seemed like the same guy from 125 supercross days to seven-time AMA Supercross Champion days. But Jeremy raced in a different age, one without cell phones and social media. He was pulled in a million directions, but the top rider in 2016 is being pulled in two million. Plus, Dungey has to endure a super gnarly training program devoid of MC’s off-weekend Lake Havasu boat trips. Hey, it was the nineties.
Ryan Dungey should be changed by all of this, but instead he’s emerged even nicer, more regular, more relaxed than ever. He’s winning more but is also more normal than before. He’s taking everything we thought we knew and teaching us something entirely different.
