Dale Earnhardt, Jr. and a Fan's Journey

A young child is sitting perfectly still in front of the TV watching a NASCAR race for the first time. Eyes follow a white car with a red "8" painted on the door and the broadcasters’ voices beam with passion when talking about the many emotions surrounding the young driver behind the wheel.

The child stays glued to her chair, barely moving a muscle throughout the entire race. But after the checkered flag has flown and the white car has won, she cracks a smile and begins to feel the excitement. The child is now hooked on this fast-paced sport, and has already chosen a driver to root for.

For the remainder of the 2001-2002 season, the new fan occasionally catches glimpses of certain races. She takes an interest in going into the toy section of a store and recognizing the finely painted and detailed cars. Soon, the fan is collecting posters and hats with the red “8” on them.

The 2003 season brings a change in this young fan. Starting with the Daytona 500, she watches every lap and every race, gaining knowledge and passion.  She starts to absorb every detail of the race, rules, drivers, and teams.

By 2004's Daytona 500, the fan feels connected to the sport and its drivers and begins to feel the thrill of every No. 8 victory and the frustration of every loss.

Throughout the season the fan, along with her favorite driver, dreams of a championship. All the while, she is eating up everything that has to do with NASCAR, from websites, to books, to racing-related television programs. Soon, the fan is talking to and teaching the adults around her with the knowledge she's acquired.

However, the true test of this fan's loyalty to driver No. 8 would come after the thrill of winning the 2004 Daytona 500 and the defeat of not capturing the championship when, in 2005, the driver had the worst season of his career.

When the driver wasn’t winning, constantly crashing, and failed to qualify for the Chase for the championship, the fan stuck with her driver. Through thick and thin and through continuous heartbreak, tears began to shed.

By now the fan knew every website and never missed a race, qualifying, or practice session, going as far as to change her schedule to follow NASCAR’s. The term "fan" was no longer appropriate—instead, "obsession" was. The weekend wasn’t for friends, it was for racing.

In 2006 the passion only amplified. Every detail of what was happening on and off the track was closely monitored and relayed to family members and friends. Everyone knew to go to this fan for information regarding anything NASCAR.

Except, just following the sport wasn’t enough. Soon, she was concerned with everything other drivers and teams were doing and loudly expressed her opinions.

She soon held opinions about the good drivers and bad ones, the arrogant drivers and those without personality. However, the fan still stayed loyal to this one driver, defending his actions or criticizing his performance. She never turned away.

Even in 2007 when the driver never visited victory lane and more tears came and sore toes became common—computers chairs are not soft she learned. Even when other fans jumped ship to a driver who was winning or because they didn’t like that driver No. 8 was becoming driver No. 88 and joining Hendrick Motorsports the following year.

But this fan, no longer the young child she was in 2001, anxiously awaited the new season and new merchandise. In February of 2008, the fan and Jr. Nation didn’t have to wait long to see how well driver No. 88 would do with Hendrick Motorsports as he went out and won the Budweiser Shootout in the first of two non-points events.

Five days later as he won the first Gatorade Duel, the fan along with her father and friend were on a plane to attend the three races of Speedweeks. Now there was hope of seeing the most dominant driver during early February end it in victory lane.

But after their feet hit the Florida pavement the No. 88 never saw victory lane again and even though he finished in the top 10, it was little consolation for the fan. “I just wanted him to win so much because I was here. It would have been special. I just don’t understand how he is always so strong during the race but never seems to be there at the end.”  Victory watch ’08 began.

Then the questions came. Why root for a mediocre driver? “He’s far from mediocre.” What do you think about him joining Hendrick Motorsports? “He’s finally going to win more races and contend and win championships, plus it makes him happier.”

Then there was the question the fan repeatedly asked herself. Why remain loyal to a driver who has sent you on a roller coaster of emotions? Why does she get so intense when NASCAR makes certain or does not make certain rulings? Or when other drivers just annoy her to no end?

But after six years of closely watching and passionately cheering for driver No. 8—now driver No. 88—it was as if the fan personally knew him and would always defend him. Maybe it gives the fan an outlet for living their unrealistic dreams through a favorite driver and sport.

Being the devoted fan she is, and with the knowledge she's acquired, it’s only natural that she becomes upset when rulings seem unfair, when other drivers act a certain way or interfere with the performance of the fan's favorite driver. It’s not uncommon to see her rant and rave—continuously.

In 2006 as driver No. 8 led at Talladega with the laps dwindling down the fan anxiously paced the floor, as all of Jr. Nation did, wondering and waiting if the driver could pick up his second win of the year and take over the points lead.

That was until contact from Brian Vickers sent everything into a tailspin. Vickers is still one of the most hated men in NASCAR.

That was in 2006, and in 2008 there is a new public enemy number one—and that’s Kyle Busch. Busch spun out the No. 88 who was leading with three laps to go at Richmond and looking to snap a two-year winless streak.

As the No. 88 backed into the wall and finished 15th, the fan slipped off the couch and onto her knees, then started to pound her fists into the carpet in disbelief.

For the next week the phrases “I can’t believe it” and “He didn’t even try to brake” were her mantras. YouTube became popular as the fan reviewed and reviewed the tape, in shock as to what she saw.

This fan's journey would soon come full circle as well as that of her favorite driver. They both kept telling themselves that the win was coming and it did in the most unlikely place and in the most unlikely way.

It was June 15, 2008 and the fan had settled in, with textbooks in hand, to watch the Lifelock 400 at the Michigan International Speedway.

Soon, the textbooks became more interesting than the race as Jimmie Johnson dominated the day. Then her ears perked up when she heard that the No. 88 was going to try and win on fuel mileage and soon the fan was on the arm of the couch watching the last six laps click away.

With sweaty palms, short breath, and misty eyes, she watched as her driver coasted on fumes across the finish line to win for the first time since May of 2006. A real and excited smile broke out and tears openly came, but she didn’t care. She had waited and waited for this moment. Fists were repeatedly pumped in the air, everyone could finally celebrate.

NASCAR is an emotional sport for drivers, teams, and fans and it is certainly about passion.

Since 2001 I’ve grown to embrace one of the world’s fastest and most dangerous sports. From being the young girl in front of the TV trying to understand why they were going in circles, to telling others it’s more than that.

I’ve studied the races and rulings. I enjoy the history of the sport and live to travel to races. From my first Pepsi 400 in 2004 to the 50th running of the Daytona 500, I crave Sundays.

Dale Earnhardt, Jr.’s last win came three days before I lost my grandfather to his battle with cancer. With Jr.’s first win since that time, I really feel like I’m allowed to celebrate again and that my journey has come full circle and I smile at the fact that it came on Father’s Day.

Do I cry? Of course I cry. Anyone who’s passionate about something gets emotional. And of course I cried when I saw the No. 88 back in victory lane.  But that’s what NASCAR and life are all about—having fun and caring about the things you love and then writing about it.