I was in the middle of cooking spaghetti the othernight when the phone rang. It was Patty Wagstaff, the first ladyof Aviation! "So what did he have to say?," she quicklyblurted out. Patty was referring to the fact that I had interviewedher arch rival, Sean D. Tucker, earlier that day about their upcomingaerobatics showdown at Oshkosh. How she could have found outthat I had spoken with him is still a mystery. Apparently thetwo camps are not very friendly and there are spies everywhere.

"Patty, he said you were delightful and a joyto work with", I assured her. "But what did he reallymean?", she quickly came back. I bit my lip. Of course Icouldn’t tell her, the three-times U.S. National AerobaticsChampion, that Sean D. Tucker had planned to humiliate her infront of the thousands of spectators at Oshkosh with his hairraising, dare devil maneuvers. "Well… he just stated thatyou were a woman and that he was a man and that men ought to treatwomen with respect". She yelled, "Now I’m reallymad!". I started to shake. What Sean had really said wasthat a woman’s place is in the kitchen, not near dangerousairplanes where they might get hurt… Help! I couldn’ttell her that. And my spaghetti was boiling over onto the stovetop!

After a moment, she charmingly asked, "Doeshe have any new maneuvers planned with that… two winged, weedwacker of his!?"

I thought to myself, surely she couldn’t bereferring to Sean’s specially made "1-800-Collect"beauty. She quickly added, "Do you realize he got parts fromjunkyards to put that diaper draped airplane of his together?"

Well, she was right in a way. The "1-800-Collect"has a Delmar Benjamin cowl, an Eagle One fuselage, Curtis Pittswings and a Laser Tail. Maybe Sean was short of cash at the time…or maybe he just wanted the best aerobatics plane around. I didn’tknow and he wasn’t there to defend himself. "Patty,that plane is awesome," I said. "With over 380 horsepower,it has enough power to do anything, even fly backwards. Why whenhe goes through his Double Hammerhead…"

"Bill," she quickly interjected, "letme tell you about a real airplane. One that’s not make ofpaper and bolts. Why my BFGoodrich Aerospace Extra 300 is stateof the art! Bar none. We’re talking about an airframe madeof high-temperature epoxy prepreg carbon fiber and E-glass structures.Some of the maneuvers it allows me to do would make Mr. Sean D.,himself, get dizzy." Hmmm. Sean had told me about her plane.Plastic, is what he called it… and with only one wing. He toldme a plane with one wing is like a bicycle with training wheels. After mastering it, a real aerobatics pilot always moved up tothe demanding Bi-plane.

"Patty, you’re a legend. Why the worry? Don’t you always win these competitions?" I couldfeel her smiling on the other end. "Well, I just do my best…andlet the people decide." I swallowed hard. Sean told me theonly reason she wins is because of those golden locks of hers,flapping in the breeze. It gets the women clapping and the menswooning. This year he was thinking of wearing a wig when theymeet… with even more curls than hers. Sean promised me, "Bill,I’m gonna do whatever it takes to beat her this year." When I had left him earlier in the day he had already run tenmiles in combat boots and was finishing up on his four hundredthsit-up.

"Patty," I asked, "are you preparingin any special way for your match up at Oshkosh, like… doingsit-ups?"

"I sat up this morning… when I got out ofbed." A giggle emerged from the other end of the phone."Other than that, same-o, same-o."

I was amazed. Here was one of the top pilots in theworld and she relied on "same-o, same-o" to give herthat edge! I had to find out what "same-o" was andtell Sean. In the meanwhile, his regime for Oshkosh the pasttwo months was to get up each morning at 5 am, eat a powerbar,then run until 6 am. After eating another power bar, he wouldchop wood until 8:30. Breakfast consisted of four raw eggs ina glass.

Patty’s voice lit up, "I might show upwith a tan…." She giggled again. I couldn’t believeit! "But Patty, surely you must be doing something to getready for this historical showdown?" "Hmm," shereplied. "Let me think."

At 9 am Sean ties a rope around his body and proceedsto pull his truck laded with 25 migrant farm workers up and downrunway 31 at Salinas to build strength in his legs.

At 10 am Colleen, his wife, hoses him off and helpshim step into his Bi-plane. Sean then performs his routine threetimes with a hood on, before settling down to lunch consistingof three celery sticks and two pieces of sushi… followed bya power bar, of course.

Patty spoke up again, "I might change to a differentshade of lipstick… to match my cowling." I was astounded. "Patty! Surely, you must be making other preparations thanthat! I mean, after all, you are about to face the Sean D. Tuckerhimself! Most other pilots would be shaking in their knees!" "Hmm, maybe you have a point". I shook my head. Ididn’t mean to raise my voice but… Sean’s out to humiliateher in front of the world and she’s got to be prepared! Or at least, make a good showing.

At 1:30 pm Sean’s crew hangs him upside downfrom the airport FAA tower railing so he can experience bloodlost for those extended "G" maneuvers. At Salinas, thelanding pilots have done away with "airport in sight"and now refer to it as "Sean in sight". At 3 pm theycut him down and stuff him back into his plane where he then performshis routine three more times… two while blindfolded and onewhile pouring ice tea from a pitcher.

The phone came alive. "I’ve been considering…a new hairstyle for Osh." I shook my head in anguish. Ithought to myself, this woman is so good… so confident, no wonderSean’s so determined. "Patty, you are something else," is all I could say.

At 4:00 pm Sean is pulled out of his plane and givenanother power bar. He then jogs five miles out to the Salinasouter marker where his crew removes his shirt and shoes. For thenext two hours he rounds up rattlesnakes with his bare hands.The ordeal heightens his reactions, he informs me— better fordoing his famous "Triple Ribbon Cut". When he seesa snake slithering in the brush, he yells out, "Patty…I’m a comin’."

"Is Mister Sean D. possibly… preparing inany special way this year?" she asked over the phone. Ohmy goodness! Help! The million dollar question! Of course,as an unbiased reporter I could only mumble, "I’m…not quite sure."

At 6:15, though near exhaustion, Sean is hosed offand transported on the back of a flat bed truck to the MontereyKarate Studio where he practices breaking 2X4’s with thefront of his head. The practice, he insists, improves his neckmuscles for snap rolls and Lomcevaaks.

"Bill… I’m waiting," Patty suggestedcalmly. I didn’t know what to say. I just couldn’ttell her that Sean’s flying was now bordering perfectionand that he was coming to Oshkosh with "the eye of the tiger",ready to redeem man from the savagery of her victories. I hadto think of something quick. I tried to think of the most outrageous,stupidest preparation idea I could imagine to throw her off track.

"Patty, Sean mentioned…. that he might beusing different color smoke this year. Pink and lavender, I believeis what he said. To… appeal more to the women in the crowd." I quickly added, "But of course his crew talked him outof it as it would hurt his image as a studly and powerful barnstormer". The receiver went silent. I thought to myself, wow, that wasclose! I had changed the subject without exposing Sean’sunearthly preparations. I hadn’t let on about the new andimproved Sean B. Tucker, Pilot of the Gods.

But then it suddenly occurred to me— lavender andpink were beautiful colors. They would set the crowd on fire. Now if Patty were to use… Oh, no! What have I done? Whatif…

"Bill!" her voice erupted. "Whata fantastic idea! I’ve been looking for a new… somethingfor my routine and that’s it! I’m so excited! In fact—that gives me an idea for a whole new maneuver. One that’snever been done before in the history of aviation! The crowdat Osh is gonna go wild! Thank you soooo much. I owe you one." The phone went dead.

My body went limp. I collapsed into my spaghettisauce on the floor.

At 9:15 Sean is hosed off and transported home. Heis fed one last power bar. Sat in front of his TV, he watchesRocky I through VI before being carried to his bed of logs andbrush in the garage. With soothing words, Colleen covers him withburlap bags and kisses him goodnight. As his eyes close, Seanmanages one last smile and mumbles , "Patty, I’m gonnaget you."

May the best plane win—paper or plastic.

The Reality Was No Gunfight

Patty Wagstaff and Sean Tucker held their first jointair show today at EAA’s AirVenture Oshkosh to a respectful crowdof airplane fans. It seemed that the most appreciative in thecrowd were those who probably also frequent professional wrestlingmatches. The show hyped the "competition" much likeGorgeous George and Dennis Rodman do, but with less excitement.

Each performer had an announcer who presumed to representwhy their pilot was the best—male versus female, white airplaneversus black airplane, two wings versus one, Florida versus California,etc., etc., ad nauseum. In actuality, Sean and Patty are closefriends and their only sense of competition is for sponsors andcrowds. The ersatz contest certainly didn’t reflect the seriouscompetition in which aerobatic pilots engage sponsored by theInternational Aerobactic Club. There, formal rules, figures,and judges help to determine the "best."

While many present at OSH seemed to enjoy the show,we heard a lot more grumbling. In general, aviation enthusiastsnoted time and again that they’d prefer to see the air show performerscontinue to do what they do best—displaying their skills withexcitement and style—not low-rent theatrics and announcerswho turn off all but the wrestling loyal. Patty and Sean aretwo of the very best pilots in the world and time and again weheard folks comment that they should not lower themselves to thelevel of carnival performers.