I grew up in a family with a deep love for racing, specifically a deep love for Dale Earnhardt… While I don’t consider myself a huge fan I think a little of it is in my blood. As my parents and sisters are down in Florida ready to go to the big race I was reading a few articles… This one really caught my eye.
The Man in Black is everywhere at Daytona. His statue marks the entrance like a welcoming icon. Pilgrims in black Goodwrench hats approach as if receiving a benediction. A Car of Tomorrow replica of the No. 3 Monte Carlo is parked outside the media center. He died on the last lap of the 500 blocking for his boy. Religions have been constructed from less potent narratives.
Actually, the attentions directed at Junior do seem almost religious. It’s not just the sudden preponderance of green stuff at the track. It’s the way grown men and women press their noses to the glass of the #25 garage stall, with that unmistakable look of devotion. Even when the stall is empty — no car, no crew — they gaze upon the tires and the tools as if they were talismans.
