Mike Hembree: Kyle Petty and the future
COMMENTARY
To be Kyle Petty is to have been places that most of us will never go.
He grew up the son of the most famous racer in NASCAR history and lived with the knowledge that, for much of his career, his accomplishments would be compared to those of his father. This would be enough to thoroughly convince most people to pursue other avenues of enterprise, but Kyle jumped in with both feet, passing up chances to excel in other sports in college.
Even as Richard Petty continued to rule the sport he helped to popularize, Kyle won races and built a name for himself. At the peak of his career, he made some moves to challenge the sport’s dominant drivers, but his light was always dim when compared to his father’s. It was something almost everyone, including Kyle, expected.
Sliding down the homeward part of his career, Kyle’s emphasis shifted to his older son, Adam, and the family’s hopes of stretching the Pettys’ stock-car racing influence into a fourth generation.
That dream ended, of course, with Adam’s death in a practice-session crash at New Hampshire Motor Speedway in 2000. It was a tremendous tragedy for racing in general and a knife in the heart for racing’s first family. For Kyle, the loss was incalculable, and it remains so. The No. 45 cap he wears daily almost a decade after Adam’s death speaks to Kyle’s determination that the memories and influence of his son will not fade.
So, too, does the continuing miracle that is the Victory Junction Gang Camp. Started by the Pettys in memory of Adam, the central North Carolina camp continues to serve hundreds of chronically ill children, and a similar facility is in the works in Kansas City.
The camps and other charity work he performs – not his racing – will be Kyle Petty’s legacy. He knows this and is entirely comfortable with it.
Before Adam’s death, he chased wins and championships and fame with the verve one might expect from a talented driver and the son of an icon of the sport. Since 2000, his perspective has changed. After moving through months of grief and then re-establishing a forward approach to life with plans for and the ultimate building of the camp, Petty shifted his focus to life in general and away from the narrow lanes of the race track.
Now 48, Petty can see the end of his driving career. He doesn’t have it planned, and he hopes to drive in a part-time capacity for several more years. Sunday’s race at Phoenix might have been his last in a Petty Enterprises car.
Now the camp is much more his reason for being.
“I still like driving,” Petty said. “Here’s the funny part. You grow up, and a driver is all you ever want to be. Then when you don’t drive, in some ways you still consider yourself a driver because that’s who you were. Who you are is a driver, and that’s your first passion.
“Now – and I hope I’ve been as straightforward about this as I could be – I use this sport as much as I can as a platform to raise money, to raise awareness, for the camp, for any charity I truly believe in. I think people have done that more in recent years. To keep your foot in the sport as a participant, it adds some credibility to that. It may not, but in my mind it still does a little bit.
“When you do step away from it, I’m not saying that part of you dies, but you have to be able to get your hands around it and put it somewhere that it doesn’t bother you all the time.”
Kyle Petty isn’t there yet. He is a young 48, and his approach to life and his general demeanor lead you to believe he’s 28. He believes it, too.
His best might be yet to come.
