Reminiscing on earlier portions of the season, Jason Anderson knew that his finishes in the initial rounds were only a predecessor of sorts, for what he was truly made of. Battle-tested over a number of seasons, his collaboration with both trainer and team had lent him well over recent memory; signifying that he was on the right track, for solid overall standing once this particular championship ended. He looked to “wow” those at home, with a series of techniques, ripping through traffic in qualification, that left many startled and trembling in their respective whereabouts. Continuing to generate a strong pace, his efforts then would send him to the heat race; putting his transponder into a position of fourth, while competitors attempted to derail his flow. His steadiness was impeccable, venturing into a triple of sorts, just after the first corner. Letting the front end venture sky-high, while dropping the “nose down” at the last possible second, had an extinguishable amount of poise for all who viewed; even indicating to his mechanic, that everything seemed to be firing on all cylinders. His locomotion was sending him flying through these particular ninety-degree turns, in and out the “speed tunnel” of sorts, battling all types of “G” forces while putting the power to the ground. Gripping the bike with his lower limbed musculature, all sorts of energy would radiate into his respective shrouds; nearly squeezing the radiator source of coolant, to come to a violent spew. It would pay-off, being rather efficient from an energy sparing standpoint, and register him well into a solid third place for all to see. The main event meanwhile, would be an all-out dog fight for he and numerous others; where they were literally skating on ice, while their knobby tread dug-in around this Utah course. Keeping the weight on the outside footpeg, he would stand just ahead of Ken Roczen when both counterparts hit the finish line section. Underestimated by absolutely no-one, he was racing this course with an apparent point to prove; pushing the chassis to points of vulnerability, yet somehow hanging on with tenacity. The laps would grow shorter, yet he would remain cemented in the fourth place position. Continuing to jump into these numerous berm(ed) corners, his inside foot would hover just above the racing surface. Both his brand and number, would stand in the fourth place position; a score to most definitely build off of, in the races to come.