USA TODAY International Edition
Tony Stewart likely to retire after next season
Stewart’s journey to pinnacle of sport sure but not smooth
This generation’s star power drain has begun.
Although he has never won the country’s two biggest races, the Indianapolis 500 and the Daytona 500, Stewart will be remembered as one of the leading drivers of his era.
Where there’s Smoke, there hasn’t always been fire.
Tony Stewart roared into NASCAR with strong credentials from IndyCar racing. He figured to follow his hero, A. J. Foyt, into the higher reaches of open- wheel racing, but he detoured to NASCAR and its much more stable organization and more lucrative playing field after winning the IndyCar championship in 1997.
The results weren’t immediately pleasing.
Stewart ran 22 NASCAR Xfinity ( then Busch) Series races in 1998 without scoring a win. In one of those races, at North Carolina Speedway in Rockingham, Stewart, despite leading 60 laps, was outrun on the last lap for the win by another up- and- coming driver, Matt Kenseth.
Stewart was relatively quiet in those days. The “Smoke” nickname was waiting. He was sitting at the figurative back of the class, a kid learning the ropes in heavier stock cars after a brilliant start in open- wheel racers.
The education worked. In 1999, Stewart’s first Cup season, he scored his first win, and thus began the building of the foundation that would lead to the first of three Cup championships in 2002.
The first successes also moved along Stewart’s transition from background figure to series star to frustrated hero.
Even as he gained fans by the bundles, Stewart set sail on a difficult course that would pockmark parts of his career. He confronted NASCAR officials, shoved photographers, battled reporters, barked at fans and generally made life difficult for many in his own circle.
Stewart was not pleased with the add- ons that automatically came with success. He didn’t enjoy most interviews, and he didn’t like wading through packs of autograph- seeking fans as he moved from car to garage and from garage to team transporter.
He said as much in a national racing publication in May 2000. The headline read “All Fed Up,” and Stewart seemed to be exactly that. The racing world might not have been shocked to see him walk away from it all at that point.
Shortly after that story was published, team owner Joe Gibbs accompanied Stewart into the Charlotte Motor Speedway media center for a very unusual session. In a strained sort of way, Stewart apologized and said he had been misunderstood.
“Keep in mind that I’m new here, and I’m going to make mistakes,” he said. “But I care a bunch about NASCAR, about Joe Gibbs Racing, Home Depot ( his primary sponsor) and, most definitely, the fans. I want them to understand that what was said were my words, but it wasn’t the whole story and it doesn’t paint the big picture accurately. The big picture is I do care about the fans. I probably care more than anybody else.”
That would not be Stewart’s last difficult public moment. A string of others would follow. And he wound up in anger management counseling.
But he won. And championships — and a fervent fan base — followed. His take- no- prisoners style made him one of the most popular drivers in the garage area.
He drove his way into rarefied status as one of the best racers in motor sports history. Although he has never won the country’s two biggest races, the Indianapolis 500 and the Daytona 500, Stewart will be remembered as one of the leading drivers of his era, and he’s a lock for the NASCAR Hall of Fame and numerous others.
The final years of Stewart’s career have been stained by personal tragedy, injury and disappointing performance, and he will go out next season with a mottled mix of emotions. He has been embroiled in turmoil and legal proceedings after his car struck and killed Kevin Ward Jr. in a sprint car race on a dirt track in Upstate New York. This came one year after he broke his leg in a sprint car race in Iowa and was forced to miss the second half of the 2013 season.
Stewart never seemed as happy — not even in his Cup championship seasons — as he did on a visit last January to the Chili Bowl Nationals Midget race in Tulsa. There, Stewart was part of a committee in charge of preparing the dirt track for racing each night, and he seemed blissful as he drove a tractor across the racing surface lap after lap.
Stewart made his money and fame at the highest level of motor sports, but his joy came from the grass roots.