'It gets in your blood'

Matt Seiler entered his first demolition derby at 14, but only after his mom signed the waiver.

"Dad thought it was stupid," he said. "My mom was the one who would take us and I was about 4 when we started going, so I kinda grew up watching it."

For Seiler and his older brother, Mike, the sport was irresistible; all the grinding and sputtering and pounding the tar out of one another. It looked like a howling good time.

"Back in the day, we could buy a car for $50, $75, and it didn't take but a night or two to put together," he said.

So they did just that. Then they took their "Hot Rod Lincoln" to the derby and smashed it to pieces.

Matt Seiler uses a cutting torch to help shape the wheel well of his derby car Aug. 22.

Decades later, Matt Seiler still spends summer evenings out by his workshop in Oak Ridge, building up his car for the next derby.

"It's something that gets in your blood," he said.

He's not the only one. A few miles southwest in Cape Girardeau, fellow driver Brandon Matty spent the weeks before the SEMO District Fair turning a wood-paneled '94 Buick Roadmaster into a proper brute.

He chose it for the body style, he said, but all the dad-wagon parts have to go. Except, maybe, the wood panels. Those, he said, are growing on him.

"Maybe we'll keep the wood panels and just paint the rest of it," he said. "Might look cool, right? I don't know yet but we'll see."

Brandon Matty uses a cutting torch to clear a space to install the roll cage in his derby car Aug. 30.

Along with all the window glass, Matty said he also scraps the seatbelts. This, he insists, is for safety. If a car catches fire -- which undoubtedly happens -- he said he doesn't want to be strapped in.

Plus, as he pointed out, he wears a helmet.

"And you got the steering wheel to hold onto," he said.

Apparently nobody afraid of being knocked around gets into the derby game in the first place and Matty said that there are higher priorities than seatbelts; namely, finding a high-quality seat.

"It's tough to find a comfy seat," he said. "So when you find one, you hang onto it."

Nathan Surface closes his eyes for a quick tack weld as he arranges the pieces of the roll cage inside Brandon Matty's demolition derby car Aug. 31.

His own are blue, scavenged from a 1984 Mercury Marquis, and are both comfortable and lucky, he said.

But no matter how hard one grips one's steering wheel, Matty concedes, derbying is tough on the body. The only solution, he said, is a hot-tub soak.

"Every derby driver's gotta have a hot tub," he said. "Winter months? Loosens you up better'n any chiropractor."

The worst thing Matty has sustained so far are broken ribs. So too, has Seiler, though he mentions it only in passing.

"That was in 2013," he said. "Got second place."

Brandon Matty pats dust and caked mud off one of his "lucky seats" as he prepares his demolition derby car Aug. 30. "It's tough to find a comfy seat," he said. "So when you find one, you hang onto it."TYLER GRAEF

That sort of competitive spirit runs high in the derby arena, but Matty said it's only for the contest. Before and after, he said, there's a fraternity among drivers and teams.

"Derby night, you get like you don't know who they are. Strap on a helmet and it's every man for himself," he said. "But we can junk our cars in 15 minutes and then get out and drink beer like it never happened."

That group, however, has shrunk considerably over the past decade or so, Seiler said. But many of those who remain are, like Seiler, in it for the long run.

"I don't see no quittin' in the next 10, 15 years," he said.

Perhaps it's not surprising. After so many years of derbying, dropping out before the wheels fall off just wouldn't feel right.

Todd Hopfer jacks up the rear end of Matt Seiler's derby car in order to repair the wheel wells as the moon rises Aug. 22.

tgraef@semissourian.com

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