Hangin' with Vickers on the set of TRL

Two thousand feet above Teeterboro, N.J., the turbulent skies of a blustery January afternoon are tossing a King Air prop plane around like a helium balloon in a hurricane.

	Marty Smith

Inside, 20-year old Brian Vickers is laughing. Howling, even. His glee is three-fold, stemming mainly from the thrill of potential danger, but also from the respective green hues of the nauseated journalist seated in front of him and the money he's taken from his travel mates in an array of card games.

As the aircraft - one of several in Rick Hendrick's expansive fleet - descends towards the runway, the volatility of its directional changes increase to a point that those inside bounce to-and-fro like ping-pong balls inside the Powerball drawing.

"You don't like this, huh?" he asks with a chuckle. "I love it. Best part. Doesn't bother me at all."

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Does anything? Aside from a squeaky pair of designer shoes - "Wore 'em in the snow last time I was in New York. Do you think snow would make 'em squeak like that?" -- he seems unfazed. That unto itself is amazing, considering he's two hours away from the most significant public appearance of his young life.

This is MTV.

Breakout Star

MTV's Total Request Live -- an hour-long segment that counts down the top-10 songs of the day as voted on by teenyboppers nationwide -- is the network's biggest programming draw.

Note to those 35 and up: in an effort to help you rationalize the significance of this appearance for Vickers, TRL is American Bandstand Reloaded, complete with all required upgrades.

Last week was "Breakout Stars Week" on TRL, and chronicled young, up-and-coming sports and entertainment figures such as 14-year old soccer phenom Freddy Adu, actress Erika Christensen (Traffic, Swimfan) and myriad singers.

So when Vickers was informed he'd been invited to join the cast of WB drama "One Tree Hill" and rapper Murphy Lee as a headlining guest on the Jan. 16 show, he was elated by the opportunity. No NASCAR driver had ever appeared on the show, after all, so this was a groundbreaking venture.

Hungry for more

Despite Vickers' excitement, MTV is not priority one upon arrival in Times Square. His hunger is. Strolling down Broadway in search of provisions, he darts into a deli and orders a plateful of spaghetti and meatballs and sides of macaroni and cheese and mashed potatoes. (Can't you just hear Dr. Atkins scream?). Minutes later, the plate is empty. Time to move on.

At 4 p.m., -- an hour before airtime -- Vickers enters Viacom Studios and is ushered into a large waiting room outfitted with modern furniture. Purple velvet couches. Red suede chairs. Green polka-dotted lounges. It is somewhat akin to Peewee's Playhouse, only with inanimate furniture.

	Vickers (left) blows the doors off host Damien Fahey in a match race Credit: Frank Micelotta/Getty Images

After several moments, a producer enters the room and promptly provides the lowdown on Vickers' segment, including expected topics of discussion and some specifics about the driver's background.

After some 15 minutes of preparatory banter, the producer takes Vickers down the hallway to a pair of motorized scooters. The scooters, the three-wheel variety marketed mostly to the elderly, were rented from a medical supply company at the last minute in hopes of staging a race between Vickers and TRL host Damien Fahey.

There was apprehension among the production staff.

"We were worried he'd be upset by that, or think it was stupid and be annoyed," one producer said. "But he was all for it. He's so nice. We love him already."

Their affection would only escalate over the next half hour. Vickers is a smart kid. He gets it. Make producers feel appreciated and it'll come back to you 10-fold.

Showtime

Following appearances by his fellow guests, it was time for Vickers to hit the studio. The production crew was securely in the palm of his hand, but what about the studio audience? This is Manhattan, not Martinsville, after all. Would 100 15-year old girls welcome an obscure pale redhead from Thomasville, N.C.?

Per usual, the gallery went berserk as Vickers entered the studio and moseyed across the stage toward VJ Hilarie Burton. Following a brief introduction, Burton began tossing questions at Vickers.

Burton: "You're in the car for hours. What if you have to pee?"

Vickers: "I hold it. And you can sweat a lot of fluid out, too. Not everyone does that, though. Some (guys) go."

Burton: "So other people let it go? Any names?"

Vickers: "Yeah. They'll pour Gatorade in their lap (to cover it up). But that's just what I've heard."

Burton: "Okay. The Daytona 500 is coming up on Feb. 15. Right here on TRL, tell us you'll take the checkers."

Vickers: "I won't just take the checkers, I'll take the checkers first!"

With that, it's out the door and down the hallway for the snail-paced showdown with Fahey. The scooters, which were reportedly rented the previous week for an appearance on The Sopranos, are lined up side-by-side, drag-style.

Vickers, manning a red scooter, waits easily in the right lane. In the left lane Fahey is confident, tossing verbal jabs at his adversary.

When the green flag drops, the drivers open 'em up, albeit at a pace only barely quicker than a brisk walk. Moments later, Vickers teaches Fahey the ol' rubbin's racin' trick, steering his scooter into the side of Fahey's machine and slamming him into the wall. Game over. From there it's all Vickers. He wins going away.

	Credit: Frank Micelotta/Getty Images

After taking the checkers, Vickers promptly breaks into a full-fledged Victory Lane celebration, complete with Indy-style flowery neck wreath and obnoxious champagne shower. Well, sparkling apple cider shower, anyway. This is, after all, a kid show.

Sweet Success

After the show, Vickers was making his way back down the drag strip towards the exit when a gentleman from a side room intersected his path. It was a rather high-ranking producer who, according to those on site, isn't quick to throw out compliments.

"You're our guy at Daytona. You're the first NASCAR guy we've ever had. We'll be sure to give you some good plugs before Daytona."

"You have no idea how excited I was about coming to do this," Vickers replied. "For me, personally, this is the biggest media deal we've done, to date. I know that ratings-wise we've done bigger things, but to me that was the best. This was cool. This was real cool."

With that, he waltzed out the studio, past a group of young ladies who were present in the TRL crowd, and headed towards the escalator.

"Hey, that's the car racer. Hey car racer! Bye car racer!"

All Vickers could do was smile. He gets it.

Come February, they'll remember his name.

Marty Smith is a senior writer for NASCAR.com. His column appears every Thursday.

The opinions expressed are solely of the writer.