This was the genesis of "The Intimidator"

Ten years ago yesterday I was a younger boy, still a preteen, passively watching the Daytona 500 with my dad. At this point in my life I was a big sports fan, but I had not yet fostered/discovered my love for open wheeled motor sport. My mom was in the corner bedroom. When the crash happened, it looked like any other typical Daytona restrictor plate crash with cars sliding, hitting the wall, hitting each other, etc. I halfway remember the long pause in resuming the race, but I didn't know it was because of the medical team needing to take extra time in the infield. A short time later, both my dad and I were shocked to learn that Dale Earnhardt was dead.

I remember running into the bedroom to tell my mom, as the ESPN ticker was already scrolling constant updates about Earnhardt's death. Outside of that, though, I don't remember much more of that day. Later Dale's son would address the media by stoically saying that he'd cried for his father, but only to help himself feel better. People said Dale would have preferred to die on the track instead of in a road car or anywhere else, and I suppose they were right.

As young as I was, I don't think I fully grasped the importance of what just happened. At this point in my life I wasn't familiar with NASCAR or Earnhardt, and I certainly had even less knowledge of death in motor sports. As far as deaths in mainstream motor sport, NASCAR is still up there in terms of being dangerous. Earnhardt was its last death on the track in a Sprint Cup/Winston Cup race. In the U.S., only the IndyCar series has had more frequent deaths (namely in the lead up to the Indy 500). This is, of course, discounting the still very vulnerable drivers in Sprint Cars.

What I also didn't wholly understand was the legendary status that Earnhardt had carved for himself and would continue to develop posthumously, even today. It was fascinating to see NASCAR go through the same sort of safety revelation that Formula 1 went through after its last (to date) death in 1994, when the even more legendary (and no less controversial) Ayrton Senna was killed at Imola on the sport's darkest weekend in modern times. Suddenly open-faced helmets were gone. HANS devices became mandatory, the cabin size changed (especially with the Car of Tomorrow) to accommodate the driver better and give him/her more padding, and more anti-roll flaps appeared on the cars. SAFER barriers began to be installed, and arguably the face of the sport did too.

When Dale Jr. won at Daytona later that year (something I also vaguely recall watching), he simultaneously carved out a bit of a legend for himself as well. He won legions of his father's fans over to him, and many fans who were new to the sport jumped on his sentimental bandwagon. Most of his father's crew joined him for the next couple of years, but after they were left/were fired, Dale Jr.'s winning percentage plummeted.

Even today Earnhardt Sr.'s son remains NASCAR's most popular driver (through fan polls) despite only winning a single-digit number of times in the past few years. Some of his fans were given glimmers of hope when he won the pole for the Daytona 500 tomorrow, but a practice crash means he's now relegated to start at the back of the pack. This isn't to say his chances are over, though. Especially with the draft-fest that Daytona always is, it's possible to move through the field relatively easily compared to other tracks. In order to do that, though, he'll have to slice his way by 42 other cars while simultaneously avoiding the inevitable crashes that ridiculous restrictor plate racing always causes. He'll probably have to employ some of his father's dubious tactics of pushing people out of the way to get to the front too.

And as an aside, that's something I'd like to address. It's an aspect of Earnhardt Sr.'s life that too many people simplify or forget altogether. For the duration of his career, Dale Earnhardt was a dirty racer. He was a cheat. He certainly wasn't the type whose car fails inspection after the race (only to get to keep the victory but have his crew chief suspended for the next race...). He was, even by his own admission, the kind of guy with whom you could get wheel-to-wheel only to find yourself in the wall the next second. I can't even count the number of times this happened, and everyone from Richard Petty to Darryl Waltrip will reaffirm this. Many times it was blatant, but sometimes he made it look very accidental. Either way, the post-crash or post-race interview was the same: A coy response coupled with a sly smile. This was partially why people loved him. This was the genesis of "The Intimidator."

A few people exacted their revenge on him, but his reaction was the same as described above. It is perhaps a touch of irony, then, that in his final race he was actually driving defensively, as the two cars leading the race ahead of him were cars that he owned (including the one of his son). He was settling in, driving as clean a race as he could to avoid cautions, and yet a freak accident took his life.

Much like Senna's death in '94, mystery surrounded (and still partially does surround) Earnhardt's death. A fracture at the base of his skull was the official cause at the hands of a broken safety belt (something the belt manufacturer disputed). Either way, there's no doubt in my mind that his refusal to wear both a closed-face helmet and a HANS device contributed in some way to his death (especially the lack of a Head and Neck Support device). After all, at first glance the crash doesn't look that bad. Look at some of the crashes from the years before, some of the rollovers and some of the monster pileups. Guys walked away from those. Some just got bruises. Yet this seemingly tame crash killed Dale Earnhardt, the seemingly invincible driver.

What also bothers me these days is the uneducated fan support, especially in the run-up to tomorrow's Daytona 500. Quite a few people nowadays (especially with NASCAR's current, weirdly unique demographic) never saw Earnhardt Sr. in his prime. They only know him toward the end of his career, and they know his son from when he used to win a few races. Yet they elevate him to demigod status and praise what a great driver he was and would have been. And that's fine to speculate. His seven Winston Cup championships lend credence to that, too. But what I think many confuse is their love of him and their love of his legacy.

Earnhardt the man was very different from Earnhardt the legend. The truth about the confidential Dale was that he was serious as can be about the racing aspect of his life, but he loved to be on the farm and some of his more demure hobbies. Perhaps it's more fitting that this legend, as all good legends do, has some mythos involved alongside some smudged memories. In the eyes of his faithful, he was a strong-willed driver who refused to be pushed aside. He was larger than life and was not above getting revenge unabashedly. I suppose in that respect it's fine to ignore the drama, the feuds, the potentially life-threatening moves he pulled on people, and only focus on what he did for his fans. For no matter what anyone says, no matter how right they may be, Dale Earnhardt was NASCAR for many people, and he always will be. Classy or not, he brought an excitement that is rarely matched on the tedious Sprint Cup calendar, one that probably won't be seen again given the league's penchant for safety and dispelling personal grudges between drivers. And honestly, I'm fine with that.

I respect the man for his records and the fanbase he built, but I do not respect how he did it in all cases, and I certainly don't condone his driving style. While the intimidating revenge-seeker is appealing to some, for me it's far too NASCAR "trading paint" "rubbin' is racin'"-esque. It's one thing to win a race, but it's entirely another to push the guy out of the way and get by him. Perhaps that's why I only watch the Daytona 500 out of respect for motor sport and curious fascination with the event that some erroneously claim is the biggest race in the United States. Yes, being able to draft is a skill, but is a race where 40+ cars follow each other nose to tail around such a large oval that you never have to use the brake exciting to me? No. The Daytona 500 is a strategy race where no single person can win it alone. He has to have a drafting partner or else he plummets in the order, regardless of whether his solo laps were faster than any person's out there. Regardless of whether his team masterfully set up his car better than anyone else. And I think that's a little sad.

That's not to say that the ending won't be exciting. NASCAR has more cautions than you can shake a stick at, so of course the cars are bound to be bunched up at the finish. How many debris cautions will there be tomorrow? You can bet at least one or two. But if you're refuting this, then ask yourself, when that caution does come out, why does it take more than one lap of a 2.5 mile track for one person to sprint to the piece of debris, pick it up, and sprint back? I've never understood this.

But I digress. Tomorrow is sure to be a touching day, one driven by emotions and tributes. Honestly, I wouldn't mind seeing Dale Jr. do well. He's not a consistent race winner anyway, and if there was ever a race to win, this planets-aligned event would be a good one. No doubt his father and grandfather's spirits will be there pushing him on. No matter what happens, though, let's hope for a clean race and a safe one, as well.

Problem solved, right? Not so much.

I've finally been gifted a rather uneventful weekend, and I'm trying to take the most advantage of it that I can. And what a weekend it's already been. I may have to break this into two readable posts, as there's a multitude of automobile news as well as racing news to address. Honestly, I'm just glad to post anything at this point given my lack of posting recently. I assure you, though, there have been good reasons.

I'll start with my car, the Pontiac Grand Prix. It's been an interesting car over the years, bought shortly after my sophomore year of high school. Within a few months we had to replace the transmission for a cool $2,500. Since then we've had to replace some tires, hubcaps (they're cheap plastic, so that's not a big deal), the brakes and pads, I had to repaint it because the paint had cancer and was falling off, the headlights (both bulbs and fixtures), the fog lamps (but they're still out), and I still have water that collects inside my headlamps from time to time. That's not quite as bad as the water that sometimes collects in the passenger side footwell, but that's another story.

More recently, though, I've been going through quite a bit of antifreeze. The light came on pretty frequently for low coolant, but I would keep adding more. Eventually pools of the green stuff began collecting under my car when I'd leave it outside for a while, and as the weather got colder I'd notice that I didn't have heat. I took the car to Kevin at the local garage. He's a great guy who always gives us an honest opinion. He went to kindergarten with my mom, and he's known my dad for decades. He looked for the coolant leak and found it in a little hose coming off the engine. He replaced it, but warned me that my intake manifold was bad and that some coolant has been leaking into my engine. I should keep track of any green streaks in my oil in the future.

So I kept driving it, but I kept losing antifreeze. We took the car back to Kevin who replaced the intake manifold for around $550. The cheap gaskets that Pontiac has been notorious for using in those cars were giving up the ghosts as well. When I drove the car back to college, I had a powerful heating system finally flex its muscle and an absence of a "Low Coolant" light. I thought we were in good shape.

In two days, I went outside to drive my car to the hospital where I volunteer. Lo and behold, the light was on again. I drove it a couple of miles and it went off, but I was still cautious. A couple of days later there was a pool under my car again, but thankfully that's the last time it did that. I turned the car on to open the thermostat, but when I went to add the antifreeze, I was somehow getting sprayed every once in a while. Upon closer inspection, the serpentine belt had been doused with coolant from somewhere, and as it reached the highest point in its path around the engine's side, it was throwing droplets at me, almost as a defense mechanism. This was not a good sign.

I kept adding some more antifreeze, but a few days ago I was mystified when I heard a fast-paced clicking coming from the engine when I revved around 2,000 RPM. When I stuck my head under the hood and had the engine revved, the click sounded like a squeak up close, and it was coming from the right side of the engine (around the belt). At first I thought it may have been a lose belt, but it sounded more like something that the belt was turning instead.

When I drove the car the next day, the squeak was gone as I drove to the hospital. On the way back, though, it returned a bit louder and at 1,500 RPM this time. This was not a good sign either. The light wasn't on, and the clicking increased in speed the more I revved. It was not gear-dependent or speed-dependent, but it was certainly rev-dependent.

Complicating issues was that we were having a warm spell in the weather (something I certainly wasn't complaining about), so I never had to turn on the heat to see if it worked. By the time it cooled down, though, the squeak was active at 1,000 RPM and even appeared occasionally at idle. And I didn't have heat.

So this weekend I've come back to my hometown and I took my car back to Kevin. It took him all of two hours to call me back and let me know that my suspicions had been absolutely correct: It was the water pump. The good news is that it's a pretty quick fix. The bad news is, it cost another $120. He completed it yesterday and got it back to me this morning. Problem solved, right?

Not so much.

When I got in the car this morning, I turned it on to see the "Low Coolant" light (which doesn't bother me. It was just taken apart; there's probably air in the lines) and the "ABS" and "Trac Off" lights on. The combination of the latter two, according to the manual, says I need to "service the brakes," but that light came on last year shortly before my dad and I replaced the brakes and pads, so I knew that couldn't be it. Kevin came out and hooked his computer up to it, but it didn't show an error. So he went back inside and got his giant computer, hooked it up and we drove down the block. Cycling through his options he learned that my right front wheel speed sensor was inactive. In other words, at 10 mph, three wheel sensors are telling the car's computer that the wheels are turning at 10 mph. My right front read 0 mph. It's not a detrimental thing, but it automatically turns off my ABS and traction control.

"The good thing is, winter's over, so you shouldn't be needing traction control again," Kevin smiled. Never mind the fact that ABS may be used at any moment of any day in any weather, but oh well. He told me that sometime we could get it replaced, but there was good and bad news here, too. The good news for him is that replacing it involves an easy replacement of the whole hub of the wheel, bearing and sensors. The bad news? It'll cost $200.

So this presents a conundrum to me. At best, my car is worth $2,000, yet at the time when it was worth $3,000, we put $2,500 in for the transmission. In the last month alone we've put in $700, and at this point my mom is saying that we just need to fix the car, sell it and buy a new one. For those who know me, this is not an easy thing to do, as I've grown quite attached to my car (especially after painting it like I did). But honestly, I'm afraid that I'm starting to agree with my mom. The car's been great for me, and I love it to death when it works, but eventually I have to ask when pumping more money into it will stop making more sense than buying a more reliable car and being done with it.

Given my family's recent propensity for all-wheel-drive cars (for my dad driving 35 miles to work at 4:00am every day in the winter), my mom is leaning toward getting an AWD replacement for the Grand Prix. And after having spectacular headlights in both the Jaguar and (especially) the Audi, she wants to make sure I have good headlights, too.

I'm in favor of being able to see and being safe, but it's a bit sad that my car can't do that for me. In terms of which car will? That's another question. The leading candidate in my mom's eye (mainly for its coolness value and relatively cheap price for an old one) is the Audi TT. I must confess that I love Audi's build quality, and it's definitely a sporty looking car. Don't let looks define it, though. It's a monstrously heavy vehicle, partially because of its AWD. It also has a relatively lightweight sub-250hp engine, so it's not the fastest or most nimble (many complain of its understeer). The boys of Top Gear lambasted it for how its owners use the car as a status symbol and must get gussied up before driving it, similar to how a young boy nervously prepares for his first date. I take their assessment with a grain of salt, though, as Jeremy Clarkson has always had a humorous thing against Audis, their owners, and Germans.

I do like the car, even though its backseat is almost nonexistent. The good news is, the seats fold down, and because of its hatchback-like tail, you can probably fit more people comfortably in the trunk than into the backseat. But anyway, this post is long enough. That's where I am right now. My dad seems quite opposed to buying a new car (partially citing the fact that "We've already replaced just about every Goddamn thing on that car!" and the fact that I don't know for sure where I'll be next year in terms of school), but my mom and I might try to work on him. We'll see. For now I'm just hoping that my car keeps chugging along and that we don't have to pour any more money into it. As I've found over time with cars, though, it's anyone's guess as to whether or not that will happen.