Daytona memories: In their own words
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
- TEXT SIZE: Increase Text Size Decrease Text Size Reset Text Size
- No Comments. Leave a Comment
- Digg This
- Add to Del.icio.us
- RSS Feeds
Latest Headlines
Trying to understand what makes winning the Daytona 500 so special is like trying to comprehend David Hasselhoff’s status as a musical sensation in Germany. Unless you ask a German, you may never understand.
So, to understand what winning NASCAR’s biggest race means to its elite fraternity of victors, we went directly to the source. Fourteen former champions sat down with writer Kenny Bruce, and each answered the seemingly simple question: What’s so special about Daytona?
Junior Johnson (won as a driver in 1960 and as an owner in ’69 and ’77)
Winning at Daytona was not that big when I did it. The sport has grown so much that now it’s right at the top of the sports world and deserves that kind of recognition. But when I won, it was just another race. You’d leave Daytona and go on to the next race.
Winning as an owner was the next best thing to winning it as a driver. But when you win it as a driver, you’ve accomplished the ultimate.
Richard Petty (1964, ’66, ’71, ’73, ’74, ’79, ’81)
The Daytona 500, probably more than any other race, defined my career. I was pretty fortunate that my racing career started around the same time the Daytona 500 began. As that race got bigger and bigger, I was able to capitalize on its popularity by having a lot of success in it.
You could say that the Daytona 500 and Richard Petty kind of grew together. That race meant a lot to me when I was driving, and it still means a lot to me.
Pete Hamilton (1970)
Back then, winning the 500 wasn’t that big of a deal, but we kind of assumed that someday it would be. Everything about NASCAR has grown exponentially. When that checkered flag fell, I don’t think I had any idea what that would mean to me 20 or 30 years down the road.
The victory came with a quiet sense of satisfaction. Ever since I’d heard of racing, I wanted to win the Daytona 500.
A.J. Foyt (1972)
More than winning the 500, when I think about Daytona, I remember that, even as a part-time NASCAR driver, I always felt welcome. The other drivers were always very good to me. I didn’t feel like I was a stranger. I got along with everybody real good, and I didn’t come over here being snooty. A lot of people came over to stock car racing thinking they were too good for it. I’m just A.J. The day I get like that, I hope somebody knocks me right on my ass. I’ve never been that way and I’ll never be that way. I’m not a tuxedo type.
Buddy Baker (1980)
I wish I could describe the feeling of winning the 500. I have tried every way in the world, but it’s impossible. It’s exhilarating and after years of frustration and being close, it’s almost nauseating.
First, you yell like a little boy and then wonder why you did that. Then, you go down the back straightaway and think, “Holy mackerel. Where do I go from here?”
The night of the race, I went to bed. I didn’t go to a party or anything because I had to drive home the next morning. I sat in bed with my eyes wide open for about two hours before deciding that since I wasn’t going to sleep, I might as well drive home. So I packed up everything and took off. There was nobody on the road. It’s 2:30 in the morning and I had just won the Daytona 500. But just as I entered the wonderful state of Georgia, I topped a hill and my Fuzzbuster [radar detector] looked like it was dancing on the dashboard. I thought, “Oh, no,” checked the speedometer and knew I was in trouble.
I pulled over and the officer said, “Buddy Baker! I can’t believe it. I am a huge fan of yours, but you always seem to have the worst luck, and this is one of those times.”
We talked for about 20 minutes, but it didn’t matter. I got a speeding ticket.
Bill Elliott (1985, ’87)
Winning the 500 etches your name in stone. It’s like having a tombstone … and you’ve got something good to put on it.
Everybody works hard all winter to come to Daytona and run well in February. But I think at the point in time that you win the 500, you don’t realize what a big deal it is.
It is a tremendous accomplishment and puts a little different recognition on what you’ve done, but in today’s racing, you’ve got to be good everywhere. The 500 is a great race to win, but if it’s your only one, that can only play so far in my opinion.
Back in that era [when I won], you never thought that much about it. You were so involved in everything. My sights were on what was going on that particular day. I’m more of a realist. Look at Dale [Earnhardt] Sr. and all the years he almost won it. Sometimes, it’s what you go through getting to that win that gives it meaning. Then, you look back and say, “Wow, how did I accomplish that much stuff?” Viewing it in the context of a career’s worth of racing is what puts it all in perspective.
Darrell Waltrip (1989)
As a kid, if baseball or football was your passion, you dreamed about hitting the winning home run in the seventh game of the World Series or throwing the winning touchdown pass in the Super Bowl. That’s what winning the Daytona 500 means to racers. It’s the ultimate prize. To have your name placed among the greats, to this day, still gives me goosebumps. It took me 17 years of trying and failing, but then, finally, I got to pull my car into victory circle.
As fortunate as I was to win as many races and championships as I did, I can honestly say that my career wouldn’t have been complete without being able to call myself a Daytona 500 champion.
Derrike Cope (1990)
I can close my eyes and feel the warmth of that day’s Daytona sun on my face. Late in the race, Dale Earnhardt kept drifting up and trying to block me, so I was going to move to the bottom no matter what. It’s good that I did because he went into Turn 3 on the last lap, and all of a sudden he was sideways. I saw his tire sort of elongate, and there were pieces of it flying back and hitting my car. I thought I was going to hit him. Then his car moved up and I went right by.
After I’d won and was going down the back straight, I was thinking about my father, Don. He really had the vision to get me here. He wasn’t at the race. He watched it from a hotel in Centralia, Wash., which is more than an hour away from his Seattle home, because the local station was going to show the Sonics basketball game instead.
My only thought coming around on the cool-down lap was that when I got to victory lane, I had to make my dad proud. There were a lot of tears when I was thinking about my dad and what we had done together to get here. I tried to collect myself before I got to victory lane because he was one of those guys who would be most proud if I got to victory lane and carried myself with dignity, said the right things, remembered my sponsors and spoke with confidence.
Winning the Daytona 500 is the biggest thing that can happen to you in this sport. From that moment on, you’re a Daytona 500 winner for the rest of your life. Your name is synonymous with this sport, and I think that’s quite an accomplishment, no matter how long or short your career.
Ernie Irvan (1991)
At the time, I don’t think I realized what winning the Daytona 500 meant. All I was concerned about was where the next race was and winning it. Yeah, it was the Daytona 500, but it didn’t start sinking in until the next race when everybody was like, “Man, you won the Daytona 500!”
After going to the White House and being on David Letterman’s show, I was like, “Man, this really is a big deal.”
Today, I realize what winning the 500 means. Obviously, it makes you part of an elite group. It’s just amazing for me to think that I won the Daytona 500. And they can’t ever take that away from me. I’m among elite company with Richard Petty, David Pearson, Pete Hamilton and Junior Johnson.
As for the finish, I remember that I passed Dale Earnhardt for the lead and then he got stuck running side by side with Davey Allison and some others. Somebody crashed and the caution came out with just a couple of laps to go. Obviously, I’m glad they didn’t have green-white-checkered finishes then. I was out of gas.
I remember coming through the trioval. My crew chief, Tony Glover, and the guys at Morgan-McClure had never won the Daytona 500. Glover was so excited, he was yelling, “Oh man, we won the Daytona 500!” That was only the second race we had ever won.
Now, I wear the [Daytona 500 winner] ring all the time. I never wore it before I retired because I was always worried about winning the next race.
Dale Jarrett (1993, ’96, 2000)
It’s something that’s always going to be right there with your name. No matter where you go and what you do, you’re going to be known as a Daytona 500 champion. That’s something no one can ever take away. People respect that, and they should, because it’s a small group over the 49 years that have become a part of it. It gives you so many other opportunities inside and outside the sport.
Sterling Marlin (1994, ’95)
It’s a really big thrill. I remember in ’94, coming off Turn 4, the crowd was on its feet. We’d been so close before. To finally get that first Cup win and have it be in the Daytona 500 was unbelievable.
In ’95, we had the new Monte Carlo, but we almost didn’t race that car. We brought it down as a backup car but were working on another car for the 500. We hopped in it, just to make a lap and make sure the fenders didn’t rub. But on the first lap, it was about three-tenths quicker than our primary car. All of a sudden, we’re thinking, “Whoa, we’ve got something here.”
I think we ran eight races with that car, won five, finished second once, blew up once and then got totaled at Talladega. We never did make another car as good as that one.
Dale Earnhardt Jr. (2004)
When I made an appearance with all the other winners in 2007, I was thinking how many heavy hitters there are in that little group. I almost wanted to be down where the photographers were so I could take a couple of pictures myself among such elite company.
The Daytona 500 is the biggest race in NASCAR. We spend the largest chunk of our available funds to prepare for it. A lot of effort goes into trying to win the 500. It’s just different. You’re down there for a whole week and there’s a lot of hype building up to the race. I really enjoy the atmosphere. That’s probably my favorite part.
As for winning the race, I got excited after initially crossing the finish line, but I really didn’t come to terms with it right away. I was excited and full of joy, but the main feeling I had was relief.
For me, the win sunk in the very next day during the ceremonies at Daytona USA. It’s kind of weird because all the other teams have gone home, and you’re sort of celebrating the win half-removed from everybody that you know. That’s when it really set in for me.
And the week after that is crazy. Going to New York, the TV shows that you’re on and the people you meet add to the hype of winning that race.
Kevin Harvick (2007)
The Daytona 500 means so much to our sport. If you’re going to win a race, that’s the one. When you go down there every year and you see the effort that every team in the garage puts into it, you know how important the race is.
To win it and experience the magnitude of it is something that you can’t really describe to somebody until you’ve been a part of it. Every time somebody introduces you, it’s as a Daytona 500 champion. No matter what the conversation is or the interview is about, it always comes up. Everybody always seems to know that you’ve won the Daytona 500. It’s very special.
- Mentioned Drivers:
- Bill Elliott
No Comments
Be the first to comment on "Daytona memories: In their own words". Login or sign up for a free account below to post your comment