Oscar Koveleski called the other day, and when our talk was done I felt like I always do—as if I’d just been inside a dyno cell with a red-hot race engine at fever pitch. The man must be a decade richer in experiences than I, yet I’m left panting by his everlasting enthusiasm, energy, and endurance.
Had I ever been a Can-Am driver, as Oscar was, I imagine I’d have felt like that every time Denny Hulme blew by.
