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On a Junior high

Sporting News, The, Nov 8, 2004

I'm all for gushing over sex symbols. If Tom Cruise knew how many pictures I had of him, he'd have a restraining order against me. But Dale Earnhardt Jr.? I don't get it. I know there are thousands of fans who eat KFC not for the secret blend of 11 original herbs and spices but because Junior tells them to. I know teenagers and their great-grandmothers shriek and swoon when they catch a glimpse of their hot-rod hottie. Good for them. I still don't get it.

But Dale Jr. is making an appearance at a local mall, so I figure, what the heck--I'll go see what all the fuss is about. I arrive about an hour before Junior is scheduled to appear, and already there is a sea of red around the stage where he'll sign autographs. There are more than 1,000 people here and almost that many No. 8 hats and Budweiser T-shirts.

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"My twin brother named his son after Dale Jr.," says the guy standing behind me. I turn around and realize he's talking to me. "I was at Daytona when he won." I smell stale beer on his breath. I have no doubt that it's Budweiser.

The emcee surveys the crowd. "Who here is a fan of Dale Earnhardt Jr.?" Women squeal and wave their hands in the air. "I love him!" cries one. "I want to have his baby!" yells another.

I am at a religious revival--Junior is the evangelist, and these women are looking to be saved. When Junior makes his grand entrance, it gets so loud the pen in my hand starts shaking. Everyone is on tiptoes, straining for a good look. Suddenly, I get a hard shove from the right, nearly sending me over a railing. A woman with snow-white hair, wielding a flower-decorated cane, moves into my spot. She barely comes up to my shoulder. I try to work my way back in front of her, but she's not budging. I sense that if I push my luck further, I'll get the cane upside my head.

There is giddiness in the air as onlookers wait for their 5 seconds with Junior. One of the first fans to get an autograph is Kirsten, a "traveling nurse" (I'm not sure what that is a euphemism for) from Las Vegas who follows Dale Jr. around the country.

Most people get a little freaked out by stalkers, but Junior just offers a, "Oh, hey, what's up?" when he sees Kirsten. "If I had to sum him up in one word, it would be 'phenomenal,' "she says. "If I sold all the stuff I have of his, I would have enough money to buy a new house. I'm not kidding."

Nearby, two middle-aged women have the following exchange:

Woman A (wearing a No. 8 jersey and matching No. 8 earrings): "He's exactly like his dad. His dad is a legend. Dale Jr. is following in his footsteps. He's a damn good driver."

Woman B: "And he's not too hard on the eyes."

Woman A: "That goes without saying."

Woman B: "He's eye candy."

Woman A: "I asked my husband, 'If Dale Jr. asked me to marry him, what would you say?' And he said, 'Just as long as I get to drive his car.'"

Farther back in the line, a woman holds her 10-month-old boy, who is clad from head to bootie in No. 8 apparel. He is chewing on a little No. 8 race car. "It's his favorite toy,' his morn tells me. The baby drops the car on the ground. Morn picks it up, and back in his mouth it goes. "He has a little walker that looks like a car. He sits in it every Sunday and watches the race and honks his horn."

Too quickly, Junior's time is up. He waves to the crowd, then is hustled off the stage by security, his relentless fans in hot pursuit. "Chase him down! Chase him down!" a girl cries. A torrent of mothers and daughters, grandparents and small children race through department store clearance racks after Junior, hoping for a glimpse, an autograph or maybe, just maybe, that peck on the cheek they've been fantasizing about since they first laid eyes on him. He's a Beatle in a ballcap, a New Kid on the Block without the cheesy dance moves. He's an icon.

And as I watch Dale Jr. disappear into a back room hidden by a round rack of women's blouses, I finally start to get it.

On a Junior high

Sporting News, The, Nov 8, 2004

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