DAYTONA BEACH - In years to come, he will recite the day's details. He will know the names, the numbers, the nuances. He will have almost total recall.
And, yet, Dale Earnhardt Jr. may never be able to explain it. Not in a way that you would understand. Not in a manner that makes sense.
"I don't know if I'll ever be able to tell this story to anybody and really get it right," Earnhardt said. "You know what I'm saying?"
Where would he begin?
At Sunday's finish line?
That's where he got out of his car minutes after winning the Daytona 500. It was an unscheduled stop on the way to Victory Lane, but Earnhardt felt the need to throw his arms around family. To embrace Tony Eury Sr., his crew chief, uncle and, some days, surrogate father.
Of course, that's just one possibility.
Maybe it'd be better to start in 1998.
You know, it was six years to the day that his father, Dale Earnhardt, finally won the Daytona 500. The race that had tormented the family for 20 years, always just out of Earnhardt's reach. The day he finally won, the man they called The Intimidator, had tears in his eyes.
But, to be fair, there's another angle.
Perhaps the story should begin in 2001.
Junior was seconds behind the checkered flag in that Daytona 500. He was chasing teammate Michael Waltrip to the finish line at the same moment his father's life ended a short distance away in a collision with a wall.
That doesn't feel right, either.
Tell me, how would you introduce it?
Where do you begin a story that mingles tragedy with delight? How do you explain what may be the greatest day of your life when it comes in the exact same setting as the worst moment you have known?
"The things that have happened here affected so many people who are real close to me," Earnhardt Jr. said. "Every time we come to Daytona, we all feel it. Whatever it is. We just feel real strong about being here.
"In a way, it feels like you're closer to Dad. But at the same time, it feels like it's a reminder of losing him all over again."
This is the legacy Junior will never escape. Every victory is measured against his father. Every misstep is an invitation for comparison, too.
It's neither fair, nor is it easy. His name has made Earnhardt the most popular and the most burdened driver in NASCAR. He has more fame than he has earned and more scrutiny than he deserves.
Yet he has handled it all. Junior is conglomeration unto himself. A favorite of corporations in need of endorsements, and an idol to the cutting edge crowd that worships MTV.
"It's pretty amazing for a kid like that," NASCAR veteran Dale Jarrett said. "He's obviously a fantastic race car driver, but everything else he does out there, he handles with class too. I'm happy for him."
That opinion is not necessarily unanimous. There are those who believe Earnhardt hasn't driven over enough bumpy roads. That NASCAR and the media have been too eager to give Junior a free ride.
He turns down more commercials than other drivers are offered. He hangs out with rock stars and parties a little more than his peers. Darrell Waltrip suggested last week the only thing keeping Junior from winning a series championship is his lack of dedication. And no one rushed to contradict that.
It is true, much of the success Junior has enjoyed has to do with his team's mastery of restrictor plate racing. Of his 10 career victories, six have come at Daytona and Talladega, the two tracks requiring restrictor plates.
But maybe this is a good day to observe Earnhardt's career with appreciation instead of cynicism.
On a day when no one was willing to give Junior drafting help to reach the lead, he maneuvered past Tony Stewart on his own. He was patient when necessary and aggressive at exactly the correct moment.
Look at it this way:
Dale Earnhardt Sr. did not win his first Cup championship until he was 29. Junior turned 29 a few months back. His father got his 10th victory in his 177th start. Junior got his 10th on Sunday in his 148th start.
It would be asking too much to match the achievements of Earnhardt Sr., but it is also wrong to measure a son's career too soon.
"I think his father is really proud today," Stewart said. "There was no holding that kid back today."
Already, the memories of his father have lost some of their color in Junior's mind. Only three years have passed since his father's death and yet he is still surprised when he looks at some of the old videotapes.
"You have to watch some of those tapes to remind you how slick he was and how determined he was," Earnhardt said. "He always figured it out."
And maybe that's why it's so hard to explain the story.
Earnhardt Sr. isn't here to tell us where to begin.
