When To Say When


Jeff Gordon, in my observations, has never made the same mistake twice. (Monte Dutton sketch)

Gotta go...to an indie bookstore!

Clinton, South Carolina, Friday, January 23, 2015, 5:02 p.m.

I’ve had a day to ruminate since word arrived that Jeff Gordon was winding down his NASCAR career. On Thursday morning, I got up early and wrote a blog, and then, shortly after I posted it, realized I had written the wrong one. Oh, well. This is my website. I can get around to it whenever I want. Most of the time, thinking about it in a world where everyone else is rushing to judgment works well for me. It’s my way of resisting the temptations of contemporary life and sets me apart in a world where everyone is perpetually in a hurry.

That plus I had other stuff to do.

Monte Dutton

Monte Dutton

Gordon will be 44 in August. His rookie season at NASCAR’s highest level was my rookie year writing about it full-time. Still, Gordon outlasted me. Journalists generally last longer than racing drivers, which is fair because drivers make a little more money.

Then again, I was a writer before 1993, and I still write now. Out of all those years, and all the drivers, ballplayers and politicians I’ve known, Gordon is unique in one substantial way. He never makes the same mistake twice. Never. On the track. In his life. With the media. With the rich and famous. With the poor and hungry.

For instance, Gordon only sang during the seventh-inning stretch at Wrigley Field once.

If Gordon has decided that the time to hang up his helmet is drawing nigh, he is right. Most drivers let fate decide. They love it as much, to quote Merle Travis, as “a fiend his dope, a drunkard his wine,” and it also occurs to them that there is nothing else they can do that will make them as much money as climbing into that stock car every week, even to diminished results, and, so, they do it as long as there is money to pay for it.

Much of what I have seen written about Gordon since he made his announcement has glorified him, and, indeed, his career has been characterized by glory, but it makes it seem as if Gordon arrived in NASCAR as the charismatic face of it, and that is plainly less than the truth. It is oversimplified. When Gordon arrived, he wasn’t prepared for success. The rookie reporter thought writing about the rookie driver was an exercise in futility. I used to say I could conduct the media conference myself because I already knew how Gordon would answer every question. He was the first driver smothered by handlers. Ray Evernham was as protective of Gordon as Scotland Yard for the Queen of England.

During 1995, the year of his first championship, everyone arrived in Atlanta for the coronation, and word was disseminated that Gordon would talk about the race only, not the championship, which he had all but wrapped up. Jim McLaurin was adept at taking care of such media concerns, thanks to his perspicacious wit. The NASCAR writer representing The State paper of Columbia raised his hand and asked, “Jeff, I know you don’t want to talk about the championship. My question is, why won’t you talk about the championship?”

I laughed. Most everyone else in the room laughed. Gordon laughed, and then he talked about the championship.

What I appreciate about Gordon is that he evolved fully in a way that most of his contemporaries managed only partly. By the time my days at the track were ending, Gordon had become the quintessential pro. He was perfect. He had the tact necessary to say what was appropriate, but he would not lie, and most of his contemporaries have no idea how much a lie can come back to haunt a man. Even if he didn’t provide copy that would make the headline writer’s job a snap, he had a way of transmitting, by his expression, by the look in his eyes, that the questioner had something there. He saved me lots of wrong directions on my lonely way back home (paraphrasing Kris Kristofferson).

Gordon went from driving me to distraction to lighting my path in the span of less than twenty short years. He’s one of those I sorely miss as I watch from afar. His was an image he came to occupy with grace and skill, much like the cockpit of a Chevy.

Tony Stewart's adrenaline keeps right on pumping when he climbs out of the car.  (John Clark photo)

Tony Stewart’s adrenaline keeps right on pumping when he climbs out of the car. (John Clark photo)

Oh, five years or so ago, I had a conversion with Gordon in which I observed that his driving style was almost identical to Tony Stewart’s but that, while Stewart was basically the same person inside and outside his car, Gordon’s personality belied his aggressive style on the track. I said that most observers cannot separate the personality from the style. As a result, Stewart would always get himself in more trouble and generate more controversy even though, on the track, he behaved no differently.

Gordon said he was impressed that I’d noticed that, and I told him, thanks, but it seemed to me it should be as clear as a Caribbean morning to anyone who watched closely.

I wrote a book about him once. It was mainly a collection of lovely color photographs, but I wrote the text. It was also unauthorized and unlicensed, and I bumped into Gordon between transporters at what was then California Speedway. I’d heard he was miffed. Of course, it was probably his handlers who were miffed. A lot of good cop/bad cop is played in NASCAR, nowhere more than in the rehearsed orchestra that performs the Hendrick Motorsports symphonies. In any event, I wanted to clear the air.

I told Gordon that I wouldn’t write a book on anyone that was authorized, because then it would mean that image specialists would pore over every word and, by the time they’d gotten done, they would have excised every phrase that might have been considered interesting. I told him my only motive in writing the book, besides money, which athletes understand, was to paint him in a positive light, but that there would undoubtedly be passages he wouldn’t like. I also pointed out that, if Hitler had been able to control everything written about Hitler, the world might be in a lot worse shape.

"Hmm. Well, that depends," says  Jeff Gordon. (Monte Dutton)

“Hmm. Well, that depends,” says Jeff Gordon. (Monte Dutton)

Gordon said he understood, and that was the end of any rift between us, though I suspect there wasn’t really much of one from the beginning. Some of those around him had gotten the idea that someone else on earth might make a dime off him, and they were paid to minimize uncommitted royalties. As a footnote, I once had a similar conversation with Stewart, and the understanding between us was the same. In Stewart’s case, he seemed a little wounded, not that I might make money off him, but that I didn’t want to pen an “official book.” Bones Bourcier did an exemplary job with that, by the way.

As a race-car driver, Gordon is top five all-time. He hasn’t won six championships, as has the driver to whom he will always be compared, Jimmie Johnson, but Johnson has never won races at the eye-popping rate Gordon did in the nineties. For his career, Gordon is top five, but his prime was second to none.

Gordon didn’t change NASCAR with his personality. He changed it forever by proving that a young driver could climb into top-flight equipment and be successful almost right away. Before Gordon, the hot Roman candle (from the Texas Panhandle, in Jimmy Buffett’s words) had to work his way up. Ricky Rudd climbed into Bill Champion’s aging equipment. Drivers too numerous to mention took a modest step upward with Junie Donlavey. By the time a driver had a decent shot to win, he was late twenties or, more likely, early thirties.

Gordon paved the way directly, and saved lots of trouble, for those who followed him, among them Stewart, Johnson, Ryan Newman, Joey Logano, Denny Hamlin, Kevin Harvick, Brad Keselowski, Carl Edwards, the brothers Busch, and many others, and that number includes dozens who weren’t able to take advantage of the shot. His triumph signaled the graduation of NASCAR into the major league of American racing and the mainstream of American sport.

No one should be the least bit surprised that Gordon knows when to quit and how to do it.

Thanks for reading my modest efforts, and I hope you’ll check out my short stories at www.wellpilgrim.wordpress.com, and the books of mine you can purchase here: http://www.amazon.com/Monte-Dutton/e/B005H3B144/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1416767492&sr=8-1


About Monte

For 20 seasons, I mostly wrote about NASCAR. I'm still paying attention, but I'm spending more of my time these days writing novels and songs. I try to blog regularly on whatever happens to strike my fancy.
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6 Responses to When To Say When

  1. Busy says:

    Jeff has guided his flock well over the years, a well placed whine about another driver, when someone can clearly see different, has made another drivers social media/press report outcome, ahem..interesting. But it seems all HMS fans are that way. All the drivers are “heros”, all other “villans”, despite the obvious the contrary. Jeff ushered in the era of the big time sponsor spokesperson and corporate robot. I find it funny that his fanatical fans are chastising the younger generation for the very same thing Jeff started. Jeff has led a charmed life in the public eye, despite the not so charming interesting stories and print of the demise of his first marriage…taboo of course in the Nascar press. I find it hypocritical when one consistency puts wings on Jeff and favorites, others get the rip treatment in their personal life as well as professional. Just my two cents.

  2. Monte says:

    As was mine. Thanks for letting me know how you feel.

  3. Fred Nation says:

    Very insightful essay on Jeff Gordon. Dealing with him has always been different than most drivers. More than most he has lived outside of the stereotype.

  4. Tim says:

    I think one of Jeff’s biggest contributions was giving very young drivers and unconventional drivers a chance in NASCAR. Every owner began the search for the next Jeff Gordon. In the mid to late the 90s the lower to middle class bounced from ride to ride. Nothing against Mast, Shepherd, Stricklin, Grissom, Trickle, etc. but these guys kept getting chances despite mediocre records. I understand that they weren’t in top tier equipment either. The 1st set if the next Jeff Gordon flamed out– Irwin just two seasons at Yates, Atwood quick flame out. On the other hand young guys like the Busch brothers were wildly successful and drivers from non stock car backgrounds like Kahne and Stewart flourished. Gordon was a blessing and a curse for new drivers. They got rides at a very young age but the pressure to succeed quickly was enormous. Look at how close Logano was to being out of a ride if Gibbs doesn’t sign him.

  5. Dave Fulton says:

    Monte, you’ve covered a lot of ground in your insightful words concerning the life, times and announced racing slow down of Jeff Gordon.

    I’d been around racing a long while and working in its top levels when I watched Jeff drive his first Cup race at Atlanta as Richard drove his last in 1992.

    My first thoughts of Jeff really came right after his success with Bill Davis in a Busch Series ride as he was being groomed for Cup by Ford Motor Company. Suddenly, Jeff jumped ship and signed with the Hendrick Chevy fold, just as Ken Schrader had previously done after he, too, had been groomed by Ford. I thought at the time that Jeff was being a real louse to both Davis and Ford by jumping ship.

    There is no doubt Jeff has proven to be an ultra talented driver as well as a fluent spokesman for sponsors and a handsome personality on network television. I certainly buy into your argument that he didn’t repeat mistakes.

    Not only did Gordon prove a talented youngster could immediately be competitive in top notch Cup equipment, he also proved, as did Tim Richmond before him, that you could come from sprint cars to the top NASCAR series, bypassing the weekly stock car bullrings where most of us had watched future stars develop – at a much later age as you’ve pointed out.

    As for your unauthorized bio of Jeff, I recall the flack endured by Frank Vehorn for his unauthorized Dale Earnhardt tome. Most of it was money based, I’m sure.

    To me, Jeff will always be the new kid on the block and I am amazed that he will be 44 years of age when the coming season concludes. I watched Ned Jarrett drive his final race at age 35 and unfortunately watched others who didn’t make it to that birthday. Where have the years gone?

    I always loved having Jim McLaurin in my press boxes and media centers. His dry wit and sage observations burst many bubbles.

    As for Jeff singing at Wrigley Field, I would be remiss not to note the passing yesterday of Chicago Cubs great, Ernie Banks. I saw Ernie in person for the first time in 1964 at the brand new Shea Stadium. Dad and I had tired of tromping through the NY World’s Fair, left Mom and baby sister behind and walked across Flushing Meadows to see the Mets and Cubs.

    The word is so overused it often seems trivial, but Jeff Gordon has navigated the NASCAR world with “CLASS.” Oftentimes it is better to say WHEN than never say never.

  6. Monte says:

    Yours is a fine addendum, Dave.

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