Matt Bartosek
Life is like drawing without an eraser. One line leads to another. One path dictates the next. Once we choose a direction, we can't go back.
People's lives are ruled by a lot of 'What Ifs.' Like, 'What if I decided to go away to school right after graduation?' I would never have met my husband, married, had Dana or Carli and then you wouldn't be reading this article right now. 'What Ifs' are only really considered after the fact and then history cannot be changed and we are simply beating ourselves up trying to consider what we could have done different to have an acceptable outcome of whatever event we are currently in turmoil over.
Since we can't change the past, maybe we should be rejoicing in what we had and have, rather than what may never come to pass. When I think of Matt Bartosek, I honestly do not obsess over the way that he passed, in a horrible quad racing accident. More than anything about Matt, I remember his smile and the way his eyes would squint together when he smiled. Matt's smile always lit up his whole face - that's probably why his senior superlative was "best smile". I think of the incredible rider he was and how he was always 'up.' Even at the beginning of the 2002 season, when he was turning Pro and knew he was going to have a learning year, Matt was up for the 'fun.' His mom, Debi, said she was afraid they would have a 'Sucky' year, but in fact 2002 was a great year for Matt Bartosek, where he narrowly missed a top ten finish on his first try. Matt seemed destined to be the newest heavy hitter in the Pro class.
Matt had a certain style when he rode that was instantly recognizable. Matt had the near perfect build for a motocrosser. At under 5'5" and probably less than 10% body fat, Matt was simply one solid muscle built for motocross. Matt never seemed to be fighting the bike. He seemed more like he and the bike had come to some kind of an agreement to cooperate with each other. Matt's style was fluid. He didn't fight the bumps or air. He went with it.
We met Matt in 2000. Dana was just beginning his 250A year on the Nationals. We didn't know a soul out there and were such beginners that we didn't even know for sure what state some of the tracks were in. Matt hung out with Jason Dunkelberger (who we didn't know then either), Dave Diver and the Pennsylvania crowd of ATV Racers. They were this tight knit little pack of 17 year olds with massive amounts of skill and the belief of youth that they can do anything that they want and that they are 10 foot tall and invincible. That year they were. They accepted Dana into their group and proceeded to play practical jokes on each other in between chasing girls and on track racing battles. The more I know about these guys, the more I realize that they all have lived similar lives. Maybe this is the reason that losing Matt has been so very personal to me. I know that my sense of loss cannot compare to those who knew him and loved him forever. My short time with Matt was in the role of an observer who occasionally had the opportunity to stand in the shadows of a life.
By all accounts Matt showed his talent on a quad by dominating the minis, complete with two 90 Mod National Championship. Although we didn't know Matt at that point, it is obvious that he was well watched and well loved throughout his formative racing years on the national circuit. I think that the fact that Matt has been around so long and has come up through the classes, and therefore had history with so many others in the GNC family, is an added reason that so many people have had the reaction they have had to Matt's passing. He could have been any of our kids. He could have been our brother. He was our friend.
Many aspects of Matt's early life will seem familiar to many of you. Matt had a love of motorcycles at a young age. His history includes photos of him either on a motorcycle or quad, holding a toy quad, wearing riding gear (like on Christmas morning when we also got our 'new season' gear - you know, the ones that we bought just a little bit big so our rider could grow into them), or in some other sport outfit. I am just guessing here, and only because there are so many similarities between the Creech family history and the Bartosek family history, but my suspicion is that relatives probably began complaining that they wanted photos of Matt in something besides riding gear or with a quad. The point is: riding was his passion. Racing was his obsession. 'Competitive' was his middle name. Matt even earned the prestigious Randy Howard Award in 2000. Matt was a winner. He didn't always come in first in the race, but he was a winner just the same.
Matt's support network is what enabled him to fulfill his dream of Pro ATV Racing. Debi, John (his brother), and Jody Bateman (Matt's step-dad) were all part of our extended GNC Family. Whenever someone needed a hand, you can bet any one of the Bartosek/Bateman clan would be first in line to step in and roll up their sleeves. I know that running the GNC series is tough for all of us, but Debi and Jody also work full time and Matt was still in school until recently. Because of their support, just like the rest of our GNC racers, Matt was able to be all that he had dreamed of. Because of his support, Matt lived his dreams. Those of us left behind are the ones that find his passing a bitter pill to take.
One day he was making motorcycle sounds and playing in the bathtub, the next day he was backing the car out of the driveway. As parents we have to learn to adjust to our children's impending adulthood. The grand plan is that we have all kinds of time in which to adjust. Sometimes the plan doesn't work the way things are supposed to. Or does it? Matt was a great kid, a best friend, an awesome rider and a man that any parent would be proud of. Did he live a fulfilled life? Of course he did. Matt lived his life to the absolute fullest from the beginning to end. He packed a lot of living in a few years. He made a lot of friends. He did what he was destined to do.
I sometimes wonder 'What If.' But then I realize that life is what it is. The life that we end up living will sometimes tear your heart out and twist it around to the point that you think that you will never, ever, be able to recover from the hurt and pain and loss, and then that same 'life' will dump buckets of happiness on you when you least expect it. They say that God won't give us anything we can't handle. I just wish he didn't trust us so much. As a parent we always walk a fine line in knowing when to catch our kids and when to let them fly. We hope for the latter and pray we are there for the former. Would Matt have been the next star of the GNC? Absolutely. No question about it. He was already there.
Sometimes the passing of a friend inspires us to excel in our lives. Thanks for the push Matt.
Although I am probably the furthest thing from a country music fan, I have this song stuck in my head and can't get it out. It's called The Dance, that Garth Brooks sings. I am adding it to the bottom of this page, simply so you can have it also stuck in your head for a while. I think in a lot of ways it says it all. This 'Dance' that life is, is worth the pain. Most of us have no idea when the Dance will cease. And to be fair, I'm glad I don't know when that time will be. For now, live and love til the music stops.
Wishing comfort and much love to all.
Mom
The Dance
written by Tony Arata
Looking back on the memory of
The dance we shared 'neath the stars alone
For a moment all the world was right
How could I have known that you'd ever say goodbye
And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain
But I'd of had to miss the dance
Holding you I held everything
For a moment wasn't I a king
But if I'd only known how the king would fall
Hey who's to say you know I might have chanced it all
And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain
But I'd of had to miss the dance
Yes my life is better left to chance
I could have missed the pain but I'd of had to miss the dance
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