To say I wasn't happy after Sunday's race would be an understatement.

We have won championships in the past because we have kept our problems to a minimum. Some people would say you should be happy with a first and a third and a lead in the championship points after seven races. Two Sunday races in two weeks and two problems that have kept us from being there to race for the win is unacceptable to me. I won't go into it because it doesn't matter what the issue was, we just didn't get the job done.

My guys were flawless as usual and their positive attitudes helped keep me from breaking something after the race because of built up frustration. Also, I have this little girl, who, I have realized, is a great chill pill in these situations. It's hard to be mad when she looks at you with those big eyes and smiles. The fact that she learnt to say Da Da on the weekend also helped me get over my little tantrum.

Saturday's race went well for us. I'm sure Jake won't say the same about his race, but he rode a great race. It wasn't until I crossed the finish line by that huge margin of .011 that I realized he was going to be bombarded with questions about two races in a row and all that stuff. I felt bad for him before I got to turn two after the finish of the race.

It was a race where nobody knew how their front tire was going to hold up. Since first coming to Barber to test in 2003, the track has been hard on front tires. It has been well publicized how many times the track has been resurfaced because Mr. Barber wanted it done right. Well, it is now pretty good, except it is harder on front tires than before. Dunlop worked fast to give us some new stuff for the race that worked really well. Jake and I were running a similar pace, but he seemed to sneak past traffic a little better than I, and built the lead to over two seconds with about five to go.

I felt the whole time if I could get some clear track I had plenty left to catch up and the chance came with L5 on the pit board. The lappers had been and gone and the track was clear and the rest is history. I caught Jake with one lap to go, made the pass and made it stick ...just. We have a huge acceleration disadvantage right now. Those guys could come onto the little front straight behind us and accelerate past before the first turn.

It felt good to win the race, maybe even one of the better ones I've won. At Infineon I was asked do I get excited about winning, because after Saturday's race I apparently didn't look like I did. I get excited about winning when I have to work for it. Winning by ten seconds isn't exciting; actually it's quite boring. I know my guys prefer the boring wins because it's easier on their tickers and fingernails, but I prefer the ones you work for at the end. Certainly I would never slow down to make a race of it, but the hard wins are satisfying.

I was always told not to accept mediocrity, and to be happy if you came second and rode your best, more so than riding average and getting handed a win. Accepting second place is a another story.

Sunday's race didn't go real well for us. We made a change to the bike and tested it in the warm-up, I was pumped about how much better the bike was than Saturday's race. All I know is we need more time between re-starts to make sure we are ready for the race. Sometimes you get some time and sometimes you get five minutes. If there was a set time for red flag re-starts then we could organize our program much better to deal with some issues that arise through the year. Making the necessary changes between races on Sunday was impossible because this re-start was done quickly, very quickly.

I think I was eight or ninth into the first turn. Then within a few laps things started to settle and I was able to get going. We made a good charge to the front and got to within two seconds of Jake when things started going wrong again. Miguel came past and set sail after Jake and done a good job to get another win. With three laps to go I was wondering if I was even going to finish. If the race was two laps longer I wouldn't have.

We left there with a lead of twenty five points, one more than we arrived with so the weekend was okay.

We hit the road straight after the race in the motorhome, headed for Pikes Peak and I was innocently cruising north on the 65 towards Nashville, Damon Buckmaster is behind me when I heard screeching tires and then a thud. I caught the thud in the mirror and came to the realization that someone had just banged into the side of me. After the initial surprise I couldn't do anything but chuckle and think today was not supposed to happen.

Some guy was at the gas station where we pulled up and Damon and I were outside talking whilst waiting for the police to arrive, he recognized us and I made a joke to Damon that this guy is going to have some good stories to tell about the time he saw Buckmaster at a gas station hobbling around all bandaged up and looking like he had been attacked by a pack of wild dogs and Mladin in the cop car cause he ran someone off the road in his big bus. It's amazing how stories get twisted. I stopped five minutes up the road because who knows what would have happened next. Ride smart and stay safe.

Cheers

Mat