DAYTONA BEACH - He's pretty smart, this college boy.
Not just the technical stuff, either. You know, those engineering equations that look like so much gibberish and the vocabulary that sounds so eggheaded.
It's the other stuff. The real-life lessons. For instance, he knows when he smiles, others see a smirk. He understands when he explains, they hear him pontificate. He knows when he wins another race, they'll smell a cheater.
The college boy knows all of this.
And he doesn't even need to cram.
It's all part of the education of one Ryan Newman. An all-American kid who remains largely unappreciated as he prepares for today's Great American Race.
When the folks in the torque-and-chassis crowd talk about the changing face of NASCAR, Newman's mug is usually the one with darts near it.
They don't like his personality. Too serious. They don't appreciate his approach. Too cerebral. They don't envy his midsection. Too ample.
Mostly, though, they don't care for his strategy.
It's far too successful.
Newman grins - or does he smirk? - when the subject comes up. The opinions of other drivers matter little, he says. Dale Earnhardt Jr.? Don't care what he thinks. Jeff Gordon? Nope. How about Penske Racing teammate Rusty Wallace? Sorry.
To illustrate this stance, Newman goes literary. This resentment is merely a byproduct of his performance, he explains. Success will always cause your friends to commend you and your enemies to despise you.
So does he have enemies?
"Yeah."
And who would they be?
"You'll have to get a scorecard."
It's hard to imagine someone creating such strong impressions so quickly. On this day two years ago, Newman was 24 and a few months removed from his textbooks at Purdue University.
Then came the rookie of the year award in 2002. That was followed by a driver of the year award in 2003. And now, as the 2004 season is about to begin, Newman has been chosen as the Nextel Cup favorite in a media poll.
"He is pretty darn smart," Darrell Waltrip said.
So it makes sense to pick Newman as the 2004 favorite?
"No," Waltrip said. "He ain't that smart."
No matter where the conversation begins, when it comes to Newman, it always seems to veer back toward his brains.
He is one of just a handful of drivers who delayed their racing careers to complete college. Although Newman never saw it as an either/or situation. His degree in vehicle structure engineering at Purdue accentuated his career, rather than impeded it. And it gave him a fall back if racing didn't work.
"You never see a cowboy with just one bullet in his gun," Newman said.
The degree is enough to make Newman an outsider. His team's approach has reinforced it. Team owner Roger Penske was looking for something different when he paired Newman with crew chief Matt Borland, a fellow engineer.
Penske wanted a new breed of driver and crew. A team that used computer models to test cars. A team that used mathematical formulas instead of feel.
The result has been one of the most dynamic debuts NASCAR has known. Newman has won nine of his first 80 starts, a pace quicker than Gordon, Dale Earnhardt Sr. or even Richard Petty. If you're looking for comparable drivers, there's Junior Johnson, who also had nine, and Tony Stewart, who won 10 of 80.
In the past two seasons, no driver has won more races or more poles. And none has raised more eyebrows with his success.
The complaint among drivers is Newman's car has gotten outstanding fuel mileage without sacrificing power. The implication is Newman and Borland have somehow used their technical prowess to fudge the rules.
NASCAR says there is no evidence to support this. And Newman, naturally, has consistently denied it.
"We don't cheat," he said. "When I hear things like that, the first thing that comes to my mind is the people who make those comments are cheating and still can't win."
If there is a tinge of annoyance to Newman's words, it is understandable. His success has been so startling, it's taken the focus off his skills as a driver. It seems no one can get past the diploma and Dave Matthews Band CDs to realize this is not just a frat boy crashing the circuit.
Long before he began applying physics to cars, Newman was a successful driver. By the time he was 25, he had won five rookie of the year awards in various car classes, advancing from midgets to NASCAR.
In a way, he has become a victim of his own success. Since few others have won so often so quickly, there must be something nefarious at work, right?
It is, when you think about it, a shame.
After all, when it comes to Newman's success, it doesn't take a college degree to figure it out.
