Life as Gas Man couldn’t be better

There's a chance I'll soon resign from the newspaper business.

Please, keep the applause down.

I have discovered a profession that might be second only to Scarlett Johansson's personal assistant. You get paid well. You live on a lake in North Carolina. You travel to all parts of the country.

The days consist of practicing your craft, exercising in state-of-the-art facilities under the eye of a strength and conditioning coach, watching film, being fed healthy meals, having a masseuse work out all the kinks, being hypnotized to help gain maximum focus, practicing some more, heading home and watching the stars above the lake with your beautiful fiance.

Yes. I want to be a Gas Man.

Wes Evans is one. He is 25 and played football at Arizona State, where he spent two years on defense and two on offense and none thinking about how best not to get hit by a race car.

Which has happened four times.

Evans was born and raised in Reno and as a child thought the Gas Man was Dad after three Burrito Supremes. As a kid, Evans knew NASCAR as something a guy named Jeff Gordon seemed good at. He didn't watch races, much less care who won them.

It's been a curious road then to today, where Evans will assume his spot at Las Vegas Motor Speedway as a member of the pit crew for Red Bull Racing.

Brian Vickers will drive the No. 83 in the Kobalt Tools 400, his ride fueled by those 95-pound cans of gas Evans carries on his shoulder.

Each can holds 11 gallons and a Cup car's tank holds 18, meaning it's a good thing Evans stands 6 feet 3 inches, 220 pounds, and is really strong. He's lifting a second can before the first one runs out. It's tough stuff.

But this is NASCAR in 2011. Teams recruit young, fit athletes from other sports to join the family, to train as the guys who pour gas or jack up the car or change the tires. NASCAR pits are more detailed than goddess play time at the Sheen mansion.

An incredible pit stop lasts less than 12 seconds.

A good one lasts 12 to 13.

When you get in the 14-second range and higher, I'm pretty sure the jack man begins whacking people over the head with his trusty tool.

"In a football game, you can make a mistake and then have many more opportunities to make up for it," Evans said. "But there might only be eight to 12 pits tops an entire race. My job, my livelihood, depends on me being as close to perfect as possible each time.

"I didn't want to do a desk job right out of college, and this seemed like a really cool gig. It allowed me to remain in a competitive environment and live in a part of the country I knew nothing about. I'm also in the best shape of my life."

I give Evans a hard time because the Reno kid who played college football and at one time probably thought NASCAR was a cold medicine has become a full-fledged gearhead. He talks about gassing the 83 on Sundays and jacking the 31 for Nationwide races on Saturdays. He admits to saying "y'all" a lot.

He also must be good at his job, because it took only two weeks after his arrival in 2009 for him to work a race. That's back when the pits had a catch-can man, a fancy way of saying the guy who caught excess fuel and helped make adjustments to the car. Evans was that guy.

NASCAR, though, eliminated the catch-can man this year, meaning pit crews now include six people and athletes such as Evans often serve more than one role during those 12 to 13 frantic seconds.

At least those who can avoid getting hit.

The first time Evans stood on pit row with cars approaching at nearly 50 mph, he was told to wait until his team's ride was within 30 feet and then step off the wall into its path so as to gain the proper positioning. He did what most us would consider the smart thing. He froze.

Things are better now, unless Steve Wallace and the No. 66 is in sight.

Evans has been hit four times on pit row, twice by his own team's car and twice last year by Wallace during Nationwide races.

"Once, he was pitting in the stall in front of us and the cars were coming in bumper to bumper and I tried timing it so I came off the wall and split them, but instead went right up onto his windshield and rolled off the other side of the car," Evans said. "You move around down there with your head on a swivel, constantly looking for those cars. They're moving pretty fast."

Check that. Rewind.

I definitely don't want to be a Gas Man.

Las Vegas Review-Journal sports columnist Ed Graney can be reached at egraney@reviewjournal.com or 702-383-4618. He can be heard from 3 to 5 p.m. Monday and Thursday on "Monsters of the Midday," Fox Sports Radio 920 AM. Follow him on Twitter: @edgraney.