Sprint car legend dies of cancer

A great tragedy struck the racing world on Thursday, Dec. 4.

Ricky Weld was diagnosed with cancer six months ago and there was no one involved with that situation who didn't know that he would have a long battle ahead of him that he may not win. After many months of treatment, including a colostomy that left him virtually unable to eat solid food, Ricky lost his fight.

At the time of his diagnosis, doctors gave Ricky six months to live and in his ever-present stubbornness, he held on for six months and one day -- quite possibly just to prove those doctors wrong. That was one of the many things that seemed to be simply a signature part of Ricky's personality. Every time anyone tried to tell him that something couldn't be done or that it would work out a way he didn't like, he would make sure things happened differently just to prove a point.

For anyone who is a fan of dirt track racing, this loss will at least have some kind of meaning, simply because the Weld name is synonymous with racing. But this death had a definite impact on me and my family for a slightly different reason.

I've known Ricky for as long as I can remember, and he and my father have been closer than some siblings longer than I've been alive. When he was younger, my dad worked on sprint cars with Ricky and his dad, who was simply known to everyone around him as "Pappy."

I didn't really know Ricky on the level that my dad did, but he still had a pretty significant impact on my life. For anyone who knew him, it was obvious that Ricky had a pretty interesting sense of humor at times, but he was one of the most caring individuals that a person could ever meet.

If he were given the opportunity, I'll tell you right now that Ricky Weld wouldn't hesitate to give the shirt off his back to someone he cared about -- even if it was the only one he had. I remember when my younger brother was born in April of 2004, Ricky was the only one of all of the friends of our family that actually took the time to show up at the hospital.

I remember that day like it was yesterday, Ricky walked into that waiting room where my sister, my dad and I were sitting and waiting for mom to come out of surgery and the first thing that Ricky and dad did was hug. My dad has never been an overly emotional or "huggy" kind of guy, but that seemed to be the only way those two would greet each other.

Now that I think about it, in fact, that was how dad and Ricky greeted each other every time they ever saw each other when I was around -- right up to the last time I saw Ricky.

Most people who know Ricky's name probably know it simply because of the undeniable talent he had in a sprint car or possibly just because his family founded Weld Wheels, but I honestly believe that anyone who didn't get to know the side of him that I did missed out on the best part of him.

As I write this, I'm almost tearing up because I keep thinking about the last time I saw him. Before he was diagnosed with cancer, Ricky was not exactly what one might call a slender individual, but the last time I was at his house with my family, he had lost so much weight that he looked almost like he had no meat on his bones at all.

He had just recently gone through a pretty rough stretch where he was very weak and couldn't hardly get up. But when my family and I were sitting in the living room of his house talking to his wife, Ginny, he came walking out of his bedroom with a giant grin on his face. He had all the energy of a perfectly healthy individual and still had that same, borderline goofy grin that I remembered from before he got cancer.

We all stayed and talked for a while and as we were getting up to leave, the hardest part of that whole situation for me to think about now happened. We all stood up and started to walk out the door and Ricky walked over to me, hugged me, kissed my cheek and told me he loved me.

I didn't really hear much about Ricky after that until just about two months ago when dad told me that he was doing a lot better and had even been able to start eating real food again, rather than the liquid protein formula he had been on. After that quick little update, I never heard another word about him until Friday when I got the phone call from mom telling me he had died.

Anyone who knows me very well can certainly attest to the fact that I have always been what you might call a "racing nut," but I can honestly said that I have trouble thinking of Ricky as a race car driver. He was simply a friend and he will be dearly missed by everyone he came into contact with throughout his life.

More information about the man behind the helmet and some of the highlights of his racing career can be found in the sprint car forum at hoseheadforums.com