Mission Behind the Show
Arenacross became one of the most unexpected platforms of my life. Like many things in my journey, it didn’t begin with some master plan. God was already lining things up long before I realized it. That’s why I do these shows, the meet and greets, the personal appearances, the handshakes, and the conversations. It’s about taking time to listen to people, being present with them, and hearing what they’re going through. It’s about loving on people and showing genuine care. Over the years, I’ve signed thousands of posters, but the autograph isn’t really the point. When someone steps up, I usually ask their name, what they enjoy doing for fun, and what their dreams are. Sometimes it’s a kid. Sometimes it’s a teenager. Sometimes it’s an adult who has been carrying something heavy for a long time. There really isn’t an age limit on encouragement. I like to look people in the eye and remind them to keep chasing their dreams. Those conversations often last longer than the autograph itself, but those moments matter. For days after an event, we often hear from people. Messages from folks who say they needed that more than we ever realized. Sometimes they just needed a reason to smile. Sometimes they needed encouragement to keep going. Sometimes they simply needed hope. When people watch what we do, they see the motorcycles, the wheelies, and the excitement. But what they don’t always see is the real reason behind it. My own life has been filled with victories and painful seasons. There have been moments when I felt strong and moments when I felt completely broken. There were times when fear, discouragement, and loneliness tried to take hold. But again and again I experienced something very real. I saw God showing up in ways I could never explain on my own. So many times Tina and I have left our home, left our family, and left our work to drive across the country chasing what we believe God has called us to do. From the outside it can look exciting and glamorous. Sometimes it is. But sometimes it’s hard and ugly too. You could trace it back to the 1990s when my oldest son, Daniel, started flagging at Arenacross events. His first real jobs came alongside people like Tracy Kitchens, Audie Davis, and Tony Ribeiro at Lone Star Arenacross in Stephenville, Texas. Back then it just felt like Daniel helping out around racing, learning responsibility, and being part of something he loved. Now it feels more like the first domino falling. Somewhere along the way, I decided I was going to try Arenacross racing myself. A big part of that decision revolved around my youngest son, Tye. He was already racing, and as a father, motocross tracks made me uneasy. Outdoor tracks stretch for acres, disappear behind hills and trees, and force you to spend half the race hoping instead of watching. Arenacross was different. Indoors, I could see everything. Every jump, every corner, every mistake, every save. I could watch Tye’s entire race from start to finish without losing him for a second, and that mattered more to me than I probably admitted at the time. The controlled environment didn’t hurt either. I’ve never been much of a fan of the elements. I don’t like rain, snow, wind, or extreme heat. But I’ll choose heat over cold every time, and indoors just made sense. That said, I didn’t like Arenacross at first. It felt tight and restrictive compared to motocross, where speed and flow stretch across open land. That opinion didn’t last long, because what I eventually realized is that Arenacross is a finesse sport. You have to be smooth and precise. Timing matters more than horsepower. Rhythm matters more than aggression. You don’t just jump, you jump in sequence. Everything has to connect. Starts matter a lot, and I’ve been fortunate over the years at being a good starter and getting holeshots. That helped me fall in love with Arenacross quicker than I expected. Daniel stayed involved for many years. In 2000, he, Audie, and Tracy started a promotion company called DAT MX Events. They ran it successfully for a long time before deciding to exit. Looking back, the biggest and most impactful creation from those guys working together was the Graham Arenacross. Even today it still exists and is doing quite well, which says a lot about the foundation they laid back then. Then in late 2015, everything changed. I got a call from a friend, Michael Connor, a fellow FCA chaplain, asking if I could cover for him at the Arenacross event in Mesquite, Texas. He had other obligations and couldn’t make it. I was so excited I about peed on myself. That may sound dramatic, but it’s the truth. This felt like opportunity knocking loud enough that I couldn’t ignore it. I asked Michael what he normally did at these events. He told me he set up a table, handed out ministry materials, prayed with riders who wanted prayer, and sometimes prayed at rider meetings. I told him I could do that, but I usually did more. He warned me these were high-stakes events with tight schedules and very little wiggle room. He wasn’t sure the promoter would allow much beyond the basics. I told him I understood and that I’d keep everyone happy. When I showed up at that event, I met the promoter and owner, Jay Reynolds. I introduced myself and told him why I was there. He gave me a quick nod and went right back to business. Later that morning, I worked up the nerve to track him down again and asked if I could do a short trackside chapel at the rider meeting. He looked at me like I was the craziest man in the building. I explained that we had been doing ministry at race events for years and that it was polished, respectful, and short. I told him I understood time mattered and
