Unlikely Victories
“The Carroll Shelby Story,” an autobiographical account of the automotive legend, recounts Shelby’s very first race.
In January 1952, the former Air Force pilot and failed chicken farmer was wondering how he would buy groceries for his family when he met an old friend, Ed Wilkins. Wilkins had a home-built car and an MG-TC, and wanted to see how they would compete in racing. He asked Shelby to try the home-built car at a drag meet, and Shelby destroyed the opposition. Wilkins was pleased, and suggested running the TC in “a real sports car race” in May. It was on an airplane parking area, made into a small, mile-long triangular track. The first race was for TCs only. In the middle of 15-20 identical, stock TCs, Shelby came out on top. He “seemed to have won it by a good margin, with the rest of the field strung out.” So as a collection of powerful Jaguar XK120s began lining up for the next event, one of the officials asked if they would like to join them – in the little TC. Wilkins was in. Shelby’s response: “What can we lose, besides some tire tread? Sure, I’ll run.”
Even though XK120s tended to understeer, and the acute triangles of a triangular track were the playground of short-wheelbase sports cars like the TC, Shelby didn’t stand a chance. The XK120 carried around 17 pounds per horsepower; the wee MG carried 32. A modern comparison would be a Mazda Miata against a 516-horsepower 2022 Mercedes-AMG SL63.
The Jags ate him alive on the straights. Soon, Shelby “worked out a pattern of going wide, at full bore in a kind of drift that converted the triangle into a rough circle. I had to use the full width of the runway and the pylons ceased to have any meaning, except as rough guides, but this idea paid off. It paid off just fine and I got the checker after a very enjoyable drive that taught me several useful things.” He won.
“Not to take anything away from the opposition, I guess I must have had a little bit of ability or something and didn’t recognize it at the time, because I don’t mind admitting that no one was more surprised than Carroll Shelby when he beat those Jags.”
It was an unlikely victory, the kind God looks for in the lives of people who follow him. God’s playgrounds are things that can’t be explained, and, sometimes, victories that don’t even take the form of victories. Remember, God’s greatest victory happened when his son died as a disgraced criminal. The victory wasn’t Jesus pulling himself off of the cross and going on a rampage against everyone who disagreed with him.
So the victory in your life may not be acing that test, winning that drag race, or miraculously avoiding the negative consequences of your actions. You may fail the test, but God’s victory is when you humble yourself and ask your teacher/parent/tutor for help. You may lose the drag race – or it may rain out – but God’s victory is revealing a new talent in wrenching on the car or planning and promoting races instead. You may not squeak by without the punishment that’s coming for you, but God’s victory comes when you surrender your will and let this experience end whatever behavior caused your sin in the first place – recognizing that because Jesus paid the ultimate punishment for all of our sin, some temporary punishment may not be the worst thing. It may even be a form of victory.
Originally published as “The Cobra Story” in 1965, Carroll Shelby’s account only covers his earliest days. The earliest AC Cobras and Mustang GT350s had just been built for 1965, but not the GT500s. Not Shelby’s continued work throughout the coming decades, with Dodge, and his attempted revival with the Series I in 1999. Not the cars that would posthumously bear his name. Not even the legendary 1966 Le Mans, which sealed Shelby’s fate as an icon when his Ford GT40 MkIIs famously obliterated Ferrari’s finest with a 1-2-3 finish. Sometimes, God’s victories are unlikely in how they prepare us for even bigger victories to come.