Merry Christmas (from Santo to Santa...sorta)!

Hello everyone and Merry Christmas! I know back in the States it is only Christmas Eve, but here in Oz it is 11:23 a.m. on Christmas Day.

Just a quick update today as we are planning to do several things today on our "day off". First of all, please be sure to check out the latest photos from the 3rd day of our trip in the Photo gallery. It is a gallery of photos from our trip into downtown Sydney and Darling Harbour last night.

After we walked around Darling Harbour, we were all invited over to dinner at Santo Rapisarda's home and let me tell you something; it was an awesome spread! Santo and his family were incredible and cooked up all kinds of great food for us. It was a fun feast of food and drink. Santo is a drag racing team owner here in Australia and one heckuva of party host! Thanks Santo!

We are going racing tomorrow! We have three qualifying sessions tomorrow. It will be an eight-car Top Fuel field and there are nine TF cars entered. The qualifying sessions are scheduled to start at 5:00 p.m. here tomorrow. We will race eliminations Saturday and the racing Saturday is also scheduled to start at 5:00 p.m., so I will be providing race updates on this page as quickly as I can get them posted.

I will check back in tomorrow. I will leave you with the following adaptation of a classic poem -

The Night Before Christmas (at Kalitta Motorsports)

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the race shop. Not a thing was stirring, not even a broom or a mop;

The cylinder heads were hung in the motor room with care,In hopes that Connie Claus soon would be there;

We had all just settled down for a quick off-season. The crew guys were nestled all snug at their benches, With visions of screwdrivers, rods, and wrenches;

When out in the parking lot there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the office to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I raced for a peek,

Raised up the bay doors with a crack and a creak.

When, what with my cackling ears did I listen, But a Top Fuel sleigh with eight giant pistons, With a legendary driver, so lively without pause, I knew in a moment it must be Connie Claus.

His firesuit was green and red from his neck to his boots, And speckled with bits of grease, smoke and clutch soot;Like the Northern Star his helmet twinkled and shimmered,

From downtown Detroit to the shores of Lake Michigan;And the Bounty Hunter shouted as he crossed off their names – "Beat Garlits! Beat Shirley! Beat Snake and Kenny! Beat Cory and Dixon! Beat Amato and Eddie in Indy! From out of the shop and on to the track! Now race away! Race away! And don’t look back!"

He sprang to his rail, to his teams gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

And I heard him exclaim, as he cracked the sky like a whip,"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good time slip!"