Virtual Earnhardt
Submitted by Helen Waite
Editor's note: this piece was inspired by a light-hearted piece written long before the tragic death of Dale Earnhardt. It is not a re-write - in our opinion it is quite clever, and quite poignant.
Like most race fans, I've been down in the dumps for the last few weeks. We are overpowered with Earnhardt information. Sad facts, tributes, media squabbling. On and on it goes. But yesterday was a red letter day for me. At long last, and not one bit too soon, I had an Earnhardt induced laugh. I subscribe to one of the many racing magazines. In this particular one, a Rob Sneddon wrote a piece about a child's fictionalized interview with Dale Earnhardt. The article was written before Dale's death, and it went something like this:
VIRTUAL EARNHARDT: You media people all ask the same questions.
CHILD: I'm not media, I'm a kid.
VIRTUAL EARNHARDT: Then why don't you ask me some kid questions?
CHILD: OK. There's this kid at school who's always picking on me. How can I get him to stop?
VIRTUAL EARNHARDT: Just straighten his ass out!
CHILD: How?
VIRTUAL EARNHARDT: How 'bout if tomorrow he falls down the stairs?
CHILD: You want me to push him down the stairs?
VIRTUAL EARNHARDT: Noooooo! Who said anything about pushin' him. I'm just saying he might trip. We don't want to hurt anyone, just rattle his cage a little.
NOW that is the way I'll remember Dale. Feisty, aggressive, no fear, with a get out of my way or I'll get you off my track attitude. Even in the later years, Earnhardt never became complacent, never rested on his laurels. His internal fire for victory did not diminish one whit. They can replay his crash for the thousandth time, and fill the rags with images we don't want to see. But I'm not buying into any of it.
I've got a another, more accurate picture in my mind. Daytona, February 1997. A big crash right in front of us on the backstretch. Dale's black #3 sitting in a demolished heap in the grass. Dale climbs out of the car. His day is over, time to head for the care center. But that is only what I thought. Earnhardt viewed the situation with different eyes. "Wait a minute", said Dale. "Will this thing start?" It did, and off he drove. Out of the grass, and back onto the track. I don't remember where he finished that day. I only know his day did not end when we thought it did. It ended on Dale's terms, scrapping and fighting until the last. Now THAT is Dale Earnhardt.