Yeah, this is the look of a shell-dweller. (Photo by Todd Warshaw/Getty Images for NASCAR)
The recent New York Times magazine article on Dale Earnhardt Jr. should earn its writer a thank-you note from Pocono Speedway, wishing him well for taking the heat off over the track’s preferring to promote its implementation of solar energy over such frivolities as, oh, making the actual racing facility safe. It is to NASCAR’s credit that Elliott Sadler is able to race this weekend. Or, for that matter, breathe. But I digress; back to the story at hand.
There’s a tendency to take anything said in the Times about NASCAR with a salt lick, let alone a grain. We are talking about a publication which to this day has yet to learn NASCAR is an acronym. You know, one where all the letters are capitalized?
Anyway, as depicted by one Pat Jordan, Earnhardt Jr. is a mealy borderline hermit, forever hiding in his own shadow while trying to escape the giant one still cast by his father more than nine years after his death. He’s also too indifferent toward his chosen profession to put in the work needed for success. The only thing missing is Jordan saying, “Hey — look at the wimpy redneck with the red beard! Let’s all laugh at the hick.” Literally saying it, anyway. Oh, he’s a good enough writer to wrap everything with a vibe of sympathy toward poor Dale Jr., forever pushed and prodded by others into being something he’s not. However, in the final analysis Jordan’s article is the journalistic equivalent of someone handing you a miniature cupcake, flavor of their own choosing, and telling you not only is it your wedding cake, it’s the entire banquet. You’re not getting the full meal. In fact, you’re being pathetically shortchanged on dessert.
And journalists wonder why drivers have become increasingly hostile this year.
If the article is accurate, Dale Jr. ought to be lionized by the metrosexual East coast self-appointed elite, the one whose members are of the unshakable opinion everyone born south of the Mason-Dixon line are the byproducts of in-breeding while they themselves need two hands to carry a six-pack. Don’t hold your breath waiting for this to happen. Self-induced asphyxiation is a wretched way to go. No, one is best advised to write this off as yet another chapter in the ongoing saga that permeates much of the mainstream media. Namely, disrespect for all things, and individuals, NASCAR.
That said, before letting this go a couple of observations.
Were Earnhardt Jr. as depicted in the aforementioned article, he would not be competing in Sprint Cup and still hanging on to at least a shot of making the Chase despite his team problems. He’d be hiding in his bedroom. It’s not like he needs any more money. He could easily coast on his name, focusing on being a team owner. Or being a celebrity. Instead, he’s in the car.
Which ties into the final observation.
Were Earnhardt Jr. as depicted in the aforementioned article, no way would he have embraced the insanity that was the Nationwide race at Daytona this past July. He signed off on running a deal that involved bringing together three different race teams, including one overseen by his step-mother with whom his issues are well known. Also, not only did he run his father’s number, he ran his father’s sponsor and paint scheme. At Daytona. The track his father ruled.
The track where his father died.
Just the kind of thing an insecure introvert jumps into, right?
Dale Jr. placed himself in a position where it was victory or… actually, there was no “or.” It was win or utter humiliation. Before anyone snarks “yeah, but it was Nationwide,” bear in mind the field was generously peppered with top-tier Sprint Cup drivers. Earnhardt Jr. wasn’t running against a bunch of local yokels. This was big time. Even without the additional pressure.
Who won that race?
Dale Earnhardt Jr.
‘Nuff said.
So, is Dale Earnhardt Jr. NASCAR’s post post modern man?
Only in the mind’s eye of the New York Times.
(Cross-posted at Examiner.com)
