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His 17 career Cup race wins are more than those recorded by Matt Kenseth and Kurt Busch, both former champions on NASCAR's premier circuit. Only eight active drivers have been to Victory Lane more often. But to quantify Dale Earnhardt Jr. in the simple terms of wins and losses is to overlook what he really means to his sport.
His value cannot be defined by statistics, quantified by raw numbers, or explained by results in a record book. He's never won a championship, coming close only once. He hasn't won a race in more than a year. Yet Earnhardt remains the most powerful and influential driver of his era, a figure in a red firesuit whose clout and reach extend well beyond his successes and shortcomings on the racetrack.
Part of that has to do with marketing, even though the Earnhardt of today is much more mature than the kid with the blond-tipped hair who was once the embodiment of the rock, roll and racing lifestyle. Part of that has to do with his last name, although there are plenty of Junior fans today who never saw his daddy compete. Most of it has to do with an incredible coincidence of genetics and timing, which placed this often unassuming, sometimes scruffy 32-year-old at the one point in NASCAR history where he's needed most.
Sure, he gets a lot more attention that a lot of other drivers who have won more races or been celebrated as a champion. But Junior matters because he is the one figure in the entire sport who can successfully blur the line between old NASCAR and new. He's the one figure as universally beloved in the dusty infield at Darlington as in the champagne-and-brie suites at California. He's the one figure whose appeal cuts across all demographic barriers, the one driver able to attract teenagers to the sport while keeping old-timers hopeful at the same time.
"Nobody's ever had as many fans as he does, including his dad. Junior's still at the point in his career where nobody really boos him. People forget this, but people used to boo the hell out of his dad. You didn't sit on the fence. You were for him or against him. It was one or the other," said Jeff Burton, a favorite driver of the elder Earnhardt's.
"It seems to me that [Earnhardt Jr.] is still at the point in his career where he hasn't won so much that people are against him, and he has the sympathetic fan. So he has everybody pulling for him and very few pulling against him, which is very unique in our sport. I would say there's never been a situation where one guy has had that many fans."
Much like his father, Earnhardt Jr. is becoming the personality around which NASCAR revolves. No other driver can move merchandise, sell tickets, or drive television ratings like he can, despite the fact that he hasn't won a race in almost 13 months. Jeff Gordon, Tony Stewart and Jimmie Johnson each have championships, more race victories, and large fan bases of their own. They're all influential figures whose opinions carry weight with their fellow drivers, the people in the grandstands, and the policy makers in Daytona Beach.
But Earnhardt is bigger than them all. No other driver stands as a unifying force at a time where NASCAR faces a serious schism within its own fan base -- a division between the traditionalists who they feel they deserve more of a voice for being there when no one else was watching, and the relative newcomers who took the sport nationwide. Only one person brings them together. Only one person succeeds at providing a look into the past and a glimpse of the future at the same time. Only one person can be cool as well as country, pitch shotguns as well as cologne.
Which is why his move from Dale Earnhardt Inc., the team his late father founded and the only Cup home he's ever known, looms as such a profound moment in both Earnhardt's history and the history of his sport. In NASCAR, driver No. 8 has somehow managed to become all things to all people, simply by being himself. A departure from DEI tinkers with that balance, loosening however slightly the ties binding him to his father, perhaps placing him in surroundings that are new and unfamiliar. The Earnhardt of next season will be the same, yet different, but right now no one knows just how.
The decision Earnhardt makes in the coming weeks will likely determine whether he ultimately wins the championship so many believe he is capable of, a quest that was hampered by the familial issues and competitive struggles he faced while at DEI. In many eyes, he needs that title to be validated as a driver worthy of the family name. But Dale Earnhardt Jr.'s impact on NASCAR, a sport where his popularity and influence defy all boundaries, will persist even if he never wins another race.
His value cannot be defined by statistics, quantified by raw numbers, or explained by results in a record book. He's never won a championship, coming close only once. He hasn't won a race in more than a year. Yet Earnhardt remains the most powerful and influential driver of his era, a figure in a red firesuit whose clout and reach extend well beyond his successes and shortcomings on the racetrack.
Part of that has to do with marketing, even though the Earnhardt of today is much more mature than the kid with the blond-tipped hair who was once the embodiment of the rock, roll and racing lifestyle. Part of that has to do with his last name, although there are plenty of Junior fans today who never saw his daddy compete. Most of it has to do with an incredible coincidence of genetics and timing, which placed this often unassuming, sometimes scruffy 32-year-old at the one point in NASCAR history where he's needed most.
Sure, he gets a lot more attention that a lot of other drivers who have won more races or been celebrated as a champion. But Junior matters because he is the one figure in the entire sport who can successfully blur the line between old NASCAR and new. He's the one figure as universally beloved in the dusty infield at Darlington as in the champagne-and-brie suites at California. He's the one figure whose appeal cuts across all demographic barriers, the one driver able to attract teenagers to the sport while keeping old-timers hopeful at the same time.
"Nobody's ever had as many fans as he does, including his dad. Junior's still at the point in his career where nobody really boos him. People forget this, but people used to boo the hell out of his dad. You didn't sit on the fence. You were for him or against him. It was one or the other," said Jeff Burton, a favorite driver of the elder Earnhardt's.
"It seems to me that [Earnhardt Jr.] is still at the point in his career where he hasn't won so much that people are against him, and he has the sympathetic fan. So he has everybody pulling for him and very few pulling against him, which is very unique in our sport. I would say there's never been a situation where one guy has had that many fans."
Much like his father, Earnhardt Jr. is becoming the personality around which NASCAR revolves. No other driver can move merchandise, sell tickets, or drive television ratings like he can, despite the fact that he hasn't won a race in almost 13 months. Jeff Gordon, Tony Stewart and Jimmie Johnson each have championships, more race victories, and large fan bases of their own. They're all influential figures whose opinions carry weight with their fellow drivers, the people in the grandstands, and the policy makers in Daytona Beach.
But Earnhardt is bigger than them all. No other driver stands as a unifying force at a time where NASCAR faces a serious schism within its own fan base -- a division between the traditionalists who they feel they deserve more of a voice for being there when no one else was watching, and the relative newcomers who took the sport nationwide. Only one person brings them together. Only one person succeeds at providing a look into the past and a glimpse of the future at the same time. Only one person can be cool as well as country, pitch shotguns as well as cologne.
Which is why his move from Dale Earnhardt Inc., the team his late father founded and the only Cup home he's ever known, looms as such a profound moment in both Earnhardt's history and the history of his sport. In NASCAR, driver No. 8 has somehow managed to become all things to all people, simply by being himself. A departure from DEI tinkers with that balance, loosening however slightly the ties binding him to his father, perhaps placing him in surroundings that are new and unfamiliar. The Earnhardt of next season will be the same, yet different, but right now no one knows just how.
The decision Earnhardt makes in the coming weeks will likely determine whether he ultimately wins the championship so many believe he is capable of, a quest that was hampered by the familial issues and competitive struggles he faced while at DEI. In many eyes, he needs that title to be validated as a driver worthy of the family name. But Dale Earnhardt Jr.'s impact on NASCAR, a sport where his popularity and influence defy all boundaries, will persist even if he never wins another race.
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