Motorsports 2006

A long shadow

Five years after Dale Earnhardt died NASCAR still feels a leadership void in the garage, yet many say his death brought attention to the sport that it has parlayed to its benefit.

By BRANT JAMES
Published February 17, 2006

	[Times illustration: Don Morris]
	Inspired by stained-glass windows of the Madonna, deputy newsart director Don Morris created an image of Dale Earnhardt. It incorporates a Celtic design on the border.
	[Times photo: Bill Serne]
	Dale Earnhardt’s statue, depicting him with his 1998 Daytona 500 trophy, was unveiled at Daytona nearly a year after his death.

Everyone knew before the green flag waved on Feb. 18, 2001 that this would be a dog-eared day in the 52-year history of NASCAR. Everything would change. A landmark television contract would beam this Southern-rooted spectacle into the mainstream consciousness of a nation. Brian France, the grandson of the series' founder and a senior vice president who had crafted the TV deal, hoped fans would emerge throughout the nation. More race tracks would follow. NASCAR would go bigger-league.

The script was playing out perfectly as Michael Waltrip, the unaccomplished 37-year-old brother of former champion Darrell Waltrip, wound down the final lap toward his first win at NASCAR's highest level. Darrell, an analyst on Fox's first broadcast of the Daytona 500, wept as his brother crossed the finish line.

Then the script changed.

Darrell Waltrip's gaze turned back to Turn 4. Sterling Marlin and the sport's legend, Dale Earnhardt Sr., had made contact, sending Earnhardt's No. 3 Chevrolet headlong into the concrete wall.

"I hope he's okay. Of course he's okay," Darrell Waltrip said cryptically. "That's Dale. He walks away. Dale Earnhardt. He always walks away. I just hope Dale's okay. I guess he's all right, isn't he?"

Earnhardt was dead at age 49 from severe head trauma.

Shock. All-encompassing shock.

"I remember it very clearly," said France, now NASCAR's chairman. "It was a very tough night that we all sat around the table. We were all coming off this incredible high in that Fox had launched so successfully and we were so excited about the future and all of a sudden you lose him. There was a cloud over us that night. It was personal, too. Everybody loved him, and we were all part of the family."

The family was large and loving before Earnhardt perished, but it began to swell even more soon after. Impromptu memorials popped up everywhere. Candles were lit. It's impossible to fully comprehend what Earnhardt was to his fans and his sport. Five years after his death on the last lap of the Daytona 500, his distinctive, mustacheoed image is ever present at racetracks. His visage blazes across T-shirts and hats. His crossed-arm glare unfurls from massive flags above campers in infields from Talladega to Southern California. The iconic "3" of his black Chevrolet remains plastered on Chevy and Escalade bumpers alike, etched into sentimental memories and onto sunburned skin.

"He was pretty much all NASCAR was," driver Kevin Harvick said.

Both Earnhardt and NASCAR were at a crossroads moments before he died. At his age, he had just a few racing seasons left before focusing on the race team he owned and the career of his son and namesake. To France, it appeared NASCAR faced a very tough time.

Indeed NASCAR changed that day. Somehow, someway - in the racing equivalent of Babe Ruth dying in rightfield in the ninth inning of the World Series - it not only survived. It thrived.

And in the most perverse of twists, his death likely had a great deal to do with it.

"Sometimes things happen for a reason," said Felix Sabates, a long-time NASCAR team owner. "And as cruel as it may sound, Dale Earnhardt getting killed at the Daytona 500 in 2001, he brought awareness and the name NASCAR to a world that maybe never heard of it before. His death was in every major newspaper in the world and on the television, where before, if he had won the Daytona 500 it would have been no big deal. In a way, Dale dying did a lot for the sport."

Elvis Presley.

James Dean.

John Wayne.

"I think when he died it got us into so many different areas of the world that people started to recognize NASCAR," said Harvick, who replaced the seven-time champion at Richard Childress Racing the next week in a renumbered No. 29. "And then it stayed in the mainstream of the press and the people and things just kind of took off from there. The sport was growing and with the massive outlets the media had, when everything happened with his death, I think it just continued after that."

Earnhardt's face was on the cover of national magazines such as Time days after his death, making his striking image and the story of NASCAR familiar to all the world. The almost mythic tale of an aging but still competitive legend dying in the heat of battle, and the outpouring of grief from his legions of fans, was compelling to many with little knowledge or interest in racing.

"It happens," four-time champion Jeff Gordon said of the fascination created when an icon perishes so dramatically. "Sometimes when things are taken away that abruptly and on those terms - I try to compare him to a James Dean or even an Elvis Presley, where there's more people that wanted to know who James Dean was after his death. And there's probably even more people listening to Elvis Presley's music after his death.

"And I think there are more people that want to know who Dale Earnhardt was and NASCAR was after his death."

Within NASCAR, before it became apparent that the sport would be all right, grief for a respected and valuable driver mixed with uncertainty over the sport's future. New racetracks would open in 2001 in Chicago and Kansas City, Kan., but the France family had bigger plans. This was not a time to fall back. NASCAR depended on Earnhardt in many ways and as cantankerous and problematic as he could be, he provided bridges between league and driver, young and old. He moved merchandise.

"There was a lot of uncertainty," France said. "And moreover, he was such a valuable guy to bounce things off. As he got older, he understood how it all worked better than most, better than almost anyone at the driver level. He became the valuable partner to us. Losing that guy at the table, we had a lot of uncertainty. We ended up coming out of it, but that was not only a disappointment, but a concern. Hard guy to replace."

Both sides of the garage agree on that point. While NASCAR officials maintain they lost a valuable sounding board, drivers contend Earnhardt was the last of their lot to truly wield power with the governing body. Four-time champion Jeff Gordon is vocal at times, but has not grabbed for the power of his one-time nemesis.

"Honestly, I've been going up in that trailer for 10 years now . . . and I feel like very little of it ever really makes an impact," Gordon said. "I sat there many times with Dale, and I heard him make his points, and I knew he had a special relationship with Bill (France) Jr., and NASCAR and I felt like, sometimes he definitely made a difference, sometimes he got credit for it when I think they were already going to do something and half the time they didn't do anything."

Drivers seem almost resentful that Gordon has seized control, all the while refusing to be more vocal themselves. Now, they sense, NASCAR has grasped all of the power.

"I think the relationship he had with NASCAR, I don't think there is another relationship like that," Harvick said. "I don't think Jeff Gordon cares enough about (it) to have that relationship. I think he's about the only one that could have had that relationship. I don't think he's involved enough day to day with the race teams and things to take that position like Dale did. Dale was involved with his race team day in and day out and drove on the weekends. There was a relationship there I don't think anybody has right now."

Still, no one can argue that the sport has continued to thrive - that most have continued to benefit financially - no matter who has control. NASCAR this year announced a new eight-year, $4.5-billion television package, drivers continue to make millions on lucrative sponsorship deals. Tracks are likely to open in the untapped markets of New York City and Seattle in the next decade. A trying crossroads successful navigated, NASCAR readies for its next. Even five years after his death, just like on the racetracks where he used to intimidate and facilitate, Earnhardt will be there with a push from behind.

"I think we've recovered," veteran Dale Jarrett said. "It will never be the same because, again, you're not gonna replace someone like that. ... But the sport is in a better position, (and) a lot of that still comes - even five years down the road now - from the things that Dale did and was doing and was putting into place at that particular time."

[Last modified February 17, 2006, 11:00:08]