My Favorite Earnhardt

https://www.imdb.com/title/tt32367551/mediaviewer/rm89817090/?ref_=tt_ov_i

Fresh from watching the Prime Video release of the Imagine Documentaries, Everyone Else, and NASCAR Studios, in association with Dirty Mo Media, production of Earnhardt, I am full of emotions. 

Yes, emotions. 

I was one of the millions of Dale Earnhardt fans. 

I knew about his daddy, Ralph. 

I knew about his career, and how he won Rookie of the Year in 1979, beating out Harry Gant and Terry Labonte, and went on to win his first championship in 1980 for Rod Osterlund Racing.

When Richard Childress picked up Earnhardt and put effort into winning the championship in the mid-1980s, a seismic shift was brewing.

Winning championships in 1986 (RCR's first) and 1987 showed he was no flash-in-the-pan, but a juggernaut - a force to be reckoned.

During the All-Star Race in 1987, Earnhardt was forced into the infield grass, never lost control, and regained his lead (never passing anyone) - the so-called Pass In The Grass - earning him the nickname "The Intimidator".

When Wrangler pulled out and GM Goodwrench arrived to sponsor RCR's No. 3 Dale Earnhardt car for the 1988 season, the paint scheme went from blue and yellow to black.

More success followed in 1990, the year I started watching, and 1991 marking his fourth and fifth championships respectively.

Then, in 1993 and 1994 his sixth and Richard Petty-tying seventh championship were realized. 

Throughout the years Earnhardt had coupled his extraordinary and aggressive driving style with heart-stopping wrecks that he would walk away from seemingly unharmed.

The Intimidator seemed like The Immortal.

With all of his championships, Earnhardt had never won a Daytona 500, arguably the most important race to win in the world of NASCAR.

The Great American Race victory was realized in 1998 in grand style by Earnhardt, earning him a high five from every single crew member lined up to congratulate him at the race's completion. 

Earnhardt was a Champion.

Earnhardt was a god.

The next year, 1999, Dale Earnhardt Jr., Earnhardt's son, started in the Cup series driving for Dale Earnhardt Incorporated.

And, in 2001, with Earnhardt Jr. pushing fellow DEI teammate Michael Waltrip to victory in the Daytona 500, Earnhardt lost his life in a last lap crash.

Watching that final race of Earnhardt's life in the documentary series brought the emotions back in full force.

I cried. 

Hard.

Memories flooded my brain and my heart.

Losing Earnhardt was catastrophic - then and now. 

What watching Earnhardt did for me, though, was show me why so many in the sport and beyond, not only loved Dale Earnhardt, but love Dale Earnhardt Jr. 

I honestly never got it.

Upon the conclusion of Earnhardt, I did.

Like Earnhardt before, Earnhardt Jr. wanted only to be loved and seen by his father. 

Like Earnhardt, that was a rarity for Earnhardt Jr. 

The words wrapped around Earnhardt for the documentary say, "When Racing is everything, you'll sacrifice anything."

Read that again.

"When Racing is everything, you'll sacrifice anything."

Dale Earnhardt sacrificed everything for racing - his family relationships, his friendships, and, ultimately, his life. 

His death made Earnhardt ascend to mythic proportions. 

Dale Earnhardt Jr. seemed to be on a similar path, but he wasn't his father. 

He is a different species.

Although never as successful on the race track as his father, Earnhardt Jr. has had incredible successes as a driver, and as a team owner with his sister Kelley Earnhardt Miller for their JR Motorsports team. 

Earnhardt Jr. is an incredible communicator, thinker, and talent picker. 

Earnhardt Jr. is a loving husband and father who is hyper-involved with his family.

He has parlayed his popularity - winner of 15 consecutive NASCAR Most Popular Driver awards - into a successful broadcasting career that spans several types of media. 

Most importantly, Earnhardt Jr. retired from competition at the end of the 2017 season. Though controversial, he chose to do what was right for him, and the years that followed have only been incredibly successful and lucrative for him. 

With Earnhardt Jr.'s blessings, contributions, and platform, Earnhardt brought Dale Earnhardt back on the screen for legions of fans. 

Though still god-like for many, this series shows a more complicated Earnhardt. 

Dale Earnhardt will continue to be a hero, and his legend will continue to thrive as it should.

I will always remember Dale Earnhardt and my immense fandom.

I'm just glad I understand why Dale Earnhardt Jr. has such a loyal, steadfast, and ever-growing fandom that may have started because he was Earnhardt's son, but grows ever-bigger because he is his own man.

https://www.swooon.com/1194966/who-is-dale-earnhardt-jr-married-to-amy-kids/

Tim Richmond

Recently I’ve been reading about one of NASCAR’s fallen heroes, a driver from the 1980s whose star shown very brightly for an all too brief period of time. His name was Tim Richmond.

If you missed his era you may not know a lot or anything about him. I became a fan of NASCAR in 1990 and missed everything about Richmond. While I was filling my coffers of NASCAR history, NASCAR past and present, and NASCAR now, Richmond’s name was rarely if ever mentioned.

Once I became active on Facebook NASCAR and racing fan sites his name came up more regularly.

I knew Richmond had a reputation for being a man women wanted to be with and men wanted to emulate. His racing prowess was enviable as was his reputation as a lothario.

At a time when jeans, cowboy hats, and big belt buckles were the dress uniform for many drivers and crew men in and around the garage, Richmond showed up in Italian suits, feathered and coiffed long hair, and a devil-may-care attitude.

There was no mistaking his intensity. He was, forgive the pun, totally driven in a racecar. Whether it was IndyCar or a NASCAR Winston Cup Car, Richmond drove it to the outer limits. He won many poles in his short NASCAR Winston Cup career, running hard and fast, some say even recklessly, but found it difficult initially to win races. Richmond’s first two years in Cup, 1980 and 1981, he had no poles, wins, or Top Fives, but did earn six Top 10s.

Paired with a legendary crew chief, Harry Hyde, in 1986 in Rick Hendrick’s fledgling stable, Richmond learned to rein in his talent just enough to produce wins and challenge for a championship. He challenged alright, but he was denied the championship in that year by his good friend Dale Earnhardt. Regardless, in that one season Richmond’s statistics were very impressive. He won eight poles, seven races, and earned 13 Top Fives and 17 Top 10s. Richmond finished third that year, only six points behind Darrell Waltrip in second.

That was the pinnacle of Richmond’s career. Unbeknownst to many a disease was riddling Richmond’s body, weakening him and stealing his thunder in the sport he so desperately loved.

Richmond, it’s now known, had contracted HIV, the virus that leads to AIDS. This happened at a time when hysteria was high about the disease and knowledge was pathetically little.

Masking his illness with lies and bravado, Richmond was able to return to a partial schedule of racing in the Cup scene. With eight races run in 1987, Richmond captured one pole, two wins, and three Top Fives and four Top 10s. But those were the last glimpses of Richmond’s greatness.

By summer 1987 Richmond’s erratic behavior akin to drunkenness and/or drug abuse caused uproar among many of NASCAR’s elite, drivers, crew members, and NASCAR officials. Not knowing or understanding the true cause of Richmond’s behaviors – manic moods one moment and sleeping for hours after that regardless of what appearances were on his itinerary – gave concern to those he was in close competition.

Drug tests were implemented, results were mishandled, and judgments were made, right or wrong. All the while Richmond continued to hide the fact he was fallen with AIDS, desperately taking the only medicinal cocktail available at the time, AZT. He went so far as to take himself off AZT to make certain he passed NASCAR’s drug test.

But it was too late. The prejudice against Richmond was palpable. His career was over in NASCAR. Unfortunately, his health was deteriorating at a rapid pace as well.

Richmond shook thinks up dramatically in NASCAR. The mostly Southeastern sport full of good ol’ boys was not sure how to handle the slick Midwesterner who was a natty dresser, had “pretty hair”, and ran his racecar at 11/10s at every outing on a track.

Richmond not only brought a Hollywood feel to NASCAR for the time he was present, but he would posthumously bring a discussion to the table about AIDS affecting the NASCAR community, not just the homosexual or Hollywood ones.

That conversation has only gone so far. Even after noted journalist David Poole wrote a book about Richmond, who died on August 13, 1989, entitled “Tim Richmond: The Fast Life And Remarkable Times Of NASCAR’s Top Gun” (2005) I still heard remarkably little about this man in the sport I had grown to love.

If nothing else, I’d love to read what others think, remember, and reminisce about Tim Richmond from those who actually saw him race. So, I’m opening the comments up to you all to do just that.

Teach me about the Tim Richmond I cannot access through books and YouTube clips. I’d love to learn more about NASCAR’s most dynamic driver.