Amid the scurry of getting out of town to see Widespread with Gosney, I was remiss to mention Dale Earnhardt's birthday yesterday.
Dale was obviously a god amongst men, the best race car driver ever to ever fire up an engine. He was also one of us. He came from nothing. He never kissed anyone's ass. Never smiled for the camera and said the right thing, never made excuses. He never sought the spotlight and he never ran from blame. He did what he wanted to do: WIN. He did what we all wanted to do. He just seemed to be a little better at it.
Dale was REAL. He was no character carved from some corporate vanilla, mass appealling mold. His goals, his aspirations, his talents, his flaws....we all felt them in us too. He humbly, quietly went about reaching his goals, climbing from the bottom, undeterred by any obstacle in his path, asking no favors and giving no quarter, on his way to becoming the best ever. To quote a line out of Jeff MacGregor's (my favorite author EVER) book "Sunday Money", when asked to describe the mystical appeal that Earnhardt garnered with all his fans, one of those fans, an RV dealership Service Manager in the midwest, simply answered "Well, he drove like I feel." That about sums it up.
Dale Earnhardt. The God of Thunder, Forever The Man.
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