I Was Never Really An Earnhardt Fan...
4/8/2014
Jim Fitzgerald
Okay, calm down, relax, and take a breath. Mercy, folks… So, last Thursday I ran an article here on Race Fans Forever
entitled “The Sixteen-Driver Conspiracy.”
It was a light-hearted “what if” column, contemplating the possibility
and probability of a “conspiracy” among drivers to keep Jimmie Johnson from the
Chase by preventing him from winning any races. In that column, I either failed to convey my subject properly,
or some who read it misinterpreted it as an attack column. I received multiple emails tagging me as a
Jimmie Johnson “hater.” No comments on
the article so I could make a rebuttal, just all by email. So, begin rebuttal here. Confession: I’m not a Jimmie Johnson
hater. Not at all. In fact, having the opportunity to cover some
races in the past few years has given me an insight into the six-time Champion
I would not have had otherwise, and my respect for him grew even more. There were times, when I first got into
racing, that there were drivers I flat out did not like, and it continued as I
progressed through my NASCAR fandom. I
didn’t really care for Jeff Gordon because he won too much. I didn’t really care for Bill Elliott,
because he won too much. And,
eventually, because he won too much, I was never really a fan of the
Intimidator. Early on, I had no valid reason for not liking Dale
Earnhardt. I just know that I didn’t
like him, and it was probably because my father didn’t like him, and none of
his race fan friends liked him. In fact,
the only people I knew that liked him when I first got into racing was my
father’s neighbor’s wife and this behemoth of a man named Bill, who resembled a
twice-as-large Chocolate Myers, and always seemed to come out of nowhere with
free things and tell us the most offensive jokes. So, true story. I was
camping at a race once, and Bill was working at a pit beef vendor trailer. It is night time and we’re all sitting around
the camp fire, and we hear something in the trees. Out comes Bill with a slab of meat in his
hand, blood dripping all over him from the raw meat he carried through the
woods, and the nail he stepped on in the process of transporting it. We threw it on the fire, and cooked it up,
and it was the best, toughest undercooked meat ever, because it was free to us,
and it came with a Race Fan story. Now, I told you that story so I could tell you this one. Dover: September, 1991.
We had just finished watching Harry Gant lap the field, and win the fourth
of an eventual seven consecutive races in the Cup and Busch Series which would
earn him the nickname of “Mr. September.”
We walked back to our campsite which was situated in a nice corner of
the Dover property, between Route 13 and the backstretch of the track. This was before the casino was there, of
course, and camping was located there among other places. We walked back to the campsite noticed that
Bill had disappeared. “Where’s
Bill?” No one knew. Okay, he’s a big boy and can handle himself. So, we all began to do our own things, and
some began to make dinner for the night, and some began to pack up their gear
as they were leaving. Again, out of
nowhere, here comes Bill, and he’s got a six-foot Subway party sub under his
left arm and another one just like it under his right arm. This dude was on his way back to the camp and
stopped by one of the hospitality trailers, saw the two subs that no one had
touched, and snagged them. Now, he said
he asked if he could have them and was given permission, but with Bill, you
just never knew when it came to twelve feet of sandwich. So anyway, yes, Bill was an Earnhardt fan. But as I said, few I knew were, and the ones we knew who
were, were few and far between. Maybe it
just seemed that way back then, or maybe I just didn’t know too many race fans. After all it was the early ‘90’s, before the
“boom.” But for whatever reason, we all
had our favorites, and there were one or two among us who were fans of “The Man
In Black.” I
enjoyed poking fun at them, for sure, when Earnhardt would find some trouble
and, not crash or not finish the race, but just not win. That was a big day for us when Earnhardt
didn’t win! They would, of course, get
the last laugh when Earnhardt would rack up another Championship when the
season was over and even sometimes before
it was over. “He’ll never win seven,” I
said. But he did, at the end of the 1994
season. I always had this one to fall
back on, though. “He’ll never win the
Daytona 500,” I said. And so it went for me. I’m from Maryland and I’m a “homer,” as they
say, meaning I always root for my home team.
I’m a Baltimore Orioles fan, so therefore, the Yankees and the Red Sox
can go pound sand. I’m a Ravens fan, so
the Steelers…yeah, not so much. And
anyone the Washington Capitals play, let’s hope the ice doesn’t open up and
swallow them whole. I brought that
intense fandom to racing, and therefore, Earnhardt was the enemy. And then the years began to get a little bit lean for
Earnhardt in regards to the win column, mostly because of that Gordon kid
snapping up a lot of trophies. And just
the same way that I can appreciate Jeff Gordon winning a race now, I began to
appreciate Dale Earnhardt winning races back then. And then, son of a gun if he didn’t win the
Daytona 500 in 1998, and I’m in my living room, standing up, cheering him on. And then, of course, came the 2001 Daytona 500, and
everything changed, not just for NASCAR, but for me, as well. I no longer had the opportunity to watch Dale
Earnhardt race. I’d never see him pass
eighteen cars in four laps at Talladega.
There would be no more cage-rattling at Bristol, and no more passes in
the grasses. And it was about that time,
and Earnhardt’s death was most assuredly a catalyst, that I stopped being a
“hater” and tried to focus on embracing what I was witnessing. While I was in my NASCAR fan infancy, I heard the stories
from the long-time fans about Petty, Pearson, Allison, Guthrie, Junior, and
Cale. Now, I can tell the stories
Elliott, Earnhardt, Kulwicki, Gordon, Shawna, Rusty and Davey. Later, I’ll be able to tell the stories of
Johnson, Kenseth, Busch, Keselowski, Danica, Rowdy, and The Outlaw. It is more important for me to appreciate
what these drivers are doing than it is to focus on them in a negative way. So, am I a Jimmie Johnson hater? No, sorry to burst some
bubbles, but no. Do I want him to
dominate and win eight, nine, or ten Championships? Probably not, because I don’t think it is
good for the sport, but if it does happen, it happens, and I’ll respect the
accomplishments, just as I respect what he’s already done, and just as I
appreciate what I am seeing, which is history being made.
Feel free to leave comments below, and be sure to follow me @RaceFansJim on Twitter, because sometimes I give stuff away!