DAYTONA BEACH, Fla. -- When Dale Earnhardt drove his first Winston Cup race
at Charlotte Motor Speedway in 1975, he was a raw and unsophisticated
24-year-old high school dropout from a hardscrabble background that included
one job in which he welded cracks inside old gasoline tankers.
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| Dale Earnhardt's ultra-competitive nature won many races -- and many more fans. (AP) | |
When he lost his life Sunday in the first race-day fatal accident in the
43-year history of the Daytona 500, Earnhardt was at the pinnacle of
American motorsports, having won seven Winston Cup championships, 76 races and the everlasting devotion of thousands upon thousands of stock
car racing fans.
Earnhardt was also despised by thousands of other fans for his
take-no-prisoners style of aggressive driving. But whether you loved him or
hated him, there was no question that his career was one of the most
significant reasons for the tremendous growth of NASCAR in the 22 years
since the first flag-to-flag telecast of the Daytona 500 in 1979.
High-speed danger and the ever-present potential for instant death
has set auto racing apart from most other sports. It has always been a bit
more real and a bit more raw. But when a crash ends the life of the sport's
biggest star, even hardcore fans find themselves wondering whether the price
is worth the spectacle.
After all, we don't worry that Tiger Woods will be killed teeing off
on 17, or that Mark McGwire will lose his life on a 3-2 pitch.
But after Earnhardt's car slammed the wall and snuffed out his life
in the final turn of the last lap of NASCAR's biggest race of the season,
NASCAR president Mike Helton was left with the solemn and heartbreaking task
of making a statement that David Stern will likely never have to make during
the NBA Finals.
"This is undoubtedly one of the toughest announcements that I've
ever personally had to make," the stock, taciturn Helton said here a few
minutes before 7 p.m. Sunday. "But after the accident in turn
four at the end of the Daytona 500, we've lost Dale Earnhardt."
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| Rescue workers attend to Dale Earnhardt moments after the crash.(AP) | |
The last auto racing fatality as big as Earnhardt's was the death of
Formula One World Champion driver Ayrton Senna during the Grand Prix of
Imola in Italy in May 1994. Earnhardt was rattled by that death, and the
same day he urged caution at the driver's meeting before the Winston 500 at
Talladega. Naturally, he went out and won the race.
Until recent years, most NASCAR fatalities have involved backmarkers
or lesser drivers in support races. On the first day of Speedweeks in 1994,
three months before Senna's death, one of NASCAR's best known stars, Neil
Bonnett, lost his life here in a practice accident. Bonnett was one of
Earnhardt's best friends, and he also died in turn four in a single-car
crash in which his car went out of control in much the same manner of
Earnhardt's car.
But with NASCAR's emergence as a major American spectator sport,
every death becomes a high profile incident. Last year, the deaths of three
drivers raised a fresh crop of safety questions. Death touched the Pettys for
the first time in the family's long NASCAR history when third-generation driver
Adam Petty, only 19, perished in a single-car accident during a practice
session at New Hampshire International Raceway. Winston Cup driver Kenny
Irwin died in an almost identical crash at the same track. And NASCAR truck
series driver Tony Roper was killed in a crash at Texas Motor Speedway.
Petty and Irwin died of basilar skull fractures when their helmeted
heads snapped forward upon impact with the wall. Earnhardt apparently was
killed by the same type of injury.
In the wake of last season's fatalities, much focus has been placed
on a piece of safety equipment known as the HANS device, which is attached to
the seat's head rest and is designed to keep a driver's head from snapping
forward in a crash. Some NASCAR drivers are using it, but Earnhardt was not
one of them. The primary criticism of the HANS device was that it limited a
driver's ability to turn his head and thus limited his ability to see.
Earnhardt was old-fashioned about safety equipment and still
preferred to use a low-back seat and an open-face helmet long after most
drivers had switched to full-face helmets and high-back seats. He said he
used an open-face helmet because he could see better.
Whether the HANS device might have saved Earnhardt's life will
always be a matter of conjecture. But Dr. Steve Bohannon, the speedway's
director of emergency services, said, "I really don't know if that would
have (made a difference) or not. I know a full-face helmet would not have
made any difference whatsoever. He had no evidence of facial injuries. I
don't know if the HANS device would have helped or not. I suspect not."
But after all of the hashing and rehashing, the thing that probably
stands out the most in the wake of Earnhardt's death is his brilliant
career.
It was not just that he won seven championships (tying Richard
Petty's record) and 76 races. It was how he raced. No NASCAR fan can ever
forget the classic, controversial fender-banging battles of the 1980s, when
Earnhardt tangled with Geoff Bodine, Darrell Waltrip, Bill Elliott and many
other top drivers while clawing his way to the top of the NASCAR heap. But
from 1990 to 1994, when Earnhardt won four titles in five years, he was one
of the least crash-prone drivers.
Time and time again, particularly here at Daytona, he made
unforgettable moves with his race car. Who can forget how Earnhardt and
Earnhardt alone used the outside groove at fast, fearsome Atlanta Motor
Speedway to pass other cars? Who can forget his move in the 1992 IROC race
here, when he shot from third to first in the final few hundred yards to win
the race? And who can forget his classic victory in the 1999 Daytona 500,
when he finally broke his jinx in NASCAR's biggest race. He spent the 1990s
winning everything there was to win at this speedway except the big one.
His reputation was fully intact to the moment of his death. In the
IROC race here Friday, Eddie Cheever drove Earnhardt into the grass on the
inside of turn one to block him from passing. Although he went through the
grass at about 150 mph as he entered the corner, Earnhardt somehow managed
to keep control. Once again, the fans were left shaking their heads in
amazement.
And when Earnhardt spun Cheever out on the backstretch during the
cool-down lap, the fans once again witnessed the excitement and controversy
that could result from Earnhardt's superheated, ultra-competitive nature.
He was right there again Sunday, leading his favorite race at his
favorite track on four different occasions for a total of 17 laps. When his
life ended, he was one of the wealthiest, best-known sports figures in
America. Although he still drove for car owner Richard Childress, as he had
since 1984, Earnhardt was the owner of three cars in the race.
When calamity struck, Earnhardt was running in third place,
following two of his own cars. His son, Dale Jr. was just ahead of him. His
new driver, the hard-luck Michael Waltrip, was on the verge on his
first-ever Winston Cup victory. But as Earnhardt's cars flashed under the
checkered flag and gave him his greatest day as a team owner, his own
unmatched career was already one for the ages.