I was going to leave this alone. It seemed as played out as Bret Michaels' reality TV career. But it's not. Obviously. Kevin Harvick versus Carl Edwards is a festering sore.

So let's analyze it.

Harvick says Edwards is fake, that he "can't be the nice guy, the bad guy and the bully," all at the same time.

I fully understand Harvick's feelings. He's not wrong. It is awful tough to like a guy who competes like Biff Tannen at a McFly family reunion, then climbs out of his car, grins like the Cheshire cat and pseudo-apologizes for it. Total Eddie Haskell.

The personalities are polar opposite, and flip like a switch. It's nearly impossible for most folks to comprehend how one guy can be both people. Harvick's not alone. Several folks have voiced a similar opinion.

Not me. I understand full well who Carl Edwards is.

Because I'm him.

And understand this: I'm not making excuses for him. So you can flush that mess down the toilet.

I just get it. I'm uber-competitive. I'd rather shut my finger in the door of a 1981 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme than lose a beer-league softball game. Flag football? I nearly went rounds with the boys at Roush Fenway last year over some juvenile garbage mouth.

Pickup hoops? I'm Bob Knight without the sweater.

I don't even like to lose a debate about ... well ... anything.

I'm not a sore loser, per se, and I've grown up a lot in recent years. But I don't readily accept failure, either. I have a tendency to overreact in the throws of conflict.

When I'm hanging out with my buddies I'm pretty easy-going. I laugh a lot, cut up, genuinely care for the well-being of those I love -- and even most of the folks I don't.

I want the best for people. I appreciate good souls and openly recognize great talent. I don't have to like you to respect you.

But listen, when I'm posting up Dr. Such-and-Such from down at Presbyterian Hospital during noontime basketball, and he cuts my legs, that nice guy takes a vacation. I'm up in his wheelhouse like his daddy used to be.

I'm not saying it's right. In fact, it's not right. I spend a lot of time preaching that to my son now. That's not how anybody should react.

But it's what guys do. Competitors, when pushed too far, react. And it may not be pretty.

That's what Edwards does.

And for that matter, it's what Harvick does, too.

The difference is the aftermath.

Harvick says, "You gotta do what you gotta do" when he sends Joey Logano.

Edwards says, "Man, I hate that. I don't like to ruin someone else's day."

That's me. I'm not the guy enjoys leaving the gym with an unresolved conflict. After I've told the guy that's going to deliver my kid at the hospital that he couldn't guard Betty White and needs to spend some of my premium on some Speed Stick, I'm the first guy to go apologize for being an idiot.

Because of that win-at-all-costs philosophy, the kids at Narrows High School (Va.) in the early '90s hated me more than any words can describe. But once we started hanging out socially, and they saw what I'm really about, the tide shifted. Quickly.

Guess who some of my best friends are today?

I could be wrong, certainly. But I'd bet you Kevin Harvick and Carl Edwards are a lot more alike than either of them realize.

Bristol Motor Speedway officials drummed up a brilliant concept this past fall, one used often in other sports to reveal a bit of a team's personality and the personalities of its players: Let each athlete choose a song, and blare it on the loudspeaker when he's introduced.

It hadn't been done in NASCAR before. It should have been. It was genius. Just before the race, all 43 drivers in the field walked across the track in Turn 3 and emerged from a makeshift tunnel to the song of their choice to the glee of 160,000 half-cocked and happy, screaming race fans.

Throughout the past week, many drivers have solicited help from fans via Twitter to pick a song for the March 21 event at BMS. I thought I'd assist.

To do so, I hit up my man Blake Shelton, he of the "Hillbilly Bone" ilk and general hilarity. Dude's funny. He also follows NASCAR pretty dang close. We were discussing the diminutive stature many drivers have, and he said, "Hmmm. … That explains it. No wonder Elliott [Sadler] sucks."

He was kidding, of course. Sadler is one of his best buddies.

Here's his list. I'm still laughing.

Kurt Busch -- "Now Kurt's the oldest brother, right? I don't know why, but the theme song to the 'Brady Bunch' comes to mind. Is that weird?"

Mark Martin -- "Easy one. 'Grandpa,' by the Judds."

Robby Gordon -- "'Some Beach,' by me because he wrecked me at Atlanta last weekend. I at least thought I could miss the first few laps and still see the car. Nope. At least he got me on TV."

Kasey Kahne -- "Oh, man. He's pretty. He's the prettiest man I've ever seen. 'Dude (Looks Like A Lady),' by Aerosmith. Great driver. And he's really pretty. Really pretty."

Denny Hamlin -- "Didn't he say something about his car recently, like his motor was bad or something? 'Piece Of S--- Car.' Adam Sandler."

Brad Keselowski -- "Is that guy OK? I thought Carl Edwards was the one that did the flipping. 'Ain't That A Kick In The Head,' by Dean Martin."

Tony Stewart -- "'My Way,' by Frank Sinatra. He bought his own team, and he's doin' it."

Matt Kenseth -- "From what I hear, he's funny, but people think he's boring as hell. 'Personality,' by Lloyd Price."

Kyle Busch -- "'We're Not Gonna Take It,' by Twisted Sister. Because he just gets so pissed and doesn't do anything wrong ever. Ever."

Elliott Sadler -- "'Ol' Red.' He's in the video with me, and played the part of my inbred cousin. He was a natural."

Joey Logano -- "We'll go with another one of mine here: 'The Baby.' Does he shave yet?"

Jeff Gordon -- "'I Kissed A Girl,' by Katy Perry. I don't really know what made me think of that song. But I did. So there you go. Enough said."

Kevin Harvick -- "'Loser,' by Beck. Wait. … He's leading the points, isn't he? We'll keep it just for the irony."

Jeff Burton -- "'Love Will Keep Us Together,' by Captain and Tennille. Y'all call him the Mayor, don't ya?"

Clint Bowyer -- "'Hillbilly Bone.' He does a race at his house every year called the Hillbilly 250. It works."

Jimmie Johnson -- "An old Mac Davis song works for him, called '[Oh] Lord It's Hard To Be Humble' when you're perfect in every way."

Scott Speed -- "'Karma Chameleon,' by Culture Club. We'll leave it at that."

Brian Vickers -- "'Wanted Dead Or Alive,' by Bon Jovi. That's true, right?"

Dale Earnhardt Jr. -- "'The More I Drink, The More I Drink.' This is one of mine. He's having that kind of luck."

Carl Edwards -- "'I'm Too Sexy' for my shirt, by Right Said Fred. Enough said."

Every year, it seems, rumor and debate about Martinsville Speedway wafts through the NASCAR industry: Does a bare-bones bullring really deserve two Cup dates? Does rustic properly maximize NASCAR's premier product, both for the industry and its fans? Are the hot dogs that good?

This year is no different, though the speculation came a bit earlier than normal.

Speedweeks is still two weeks away, but Martinsville is already Martyrsville.

That annoys me. And judging by feedback I hear from you guys -- who complain often of being "tired of cookie-cutter tracks" -- it should annoy you, too.

Martinsville is as cookie-cutter as a cake mold.

Per the agreement between International Speedway Corp. and the Kansas Lottery folks, in return for a sparkling new casino on the Kansas Speedway property, ISC will petition NASCAR this year to add a second Sprint Cup date at Kansas in 2011, according to ISC chief operating officer Roger VanDerSnick.

"That's part of our proposal to the lottery commission, which we have a tremendous partnership with," VanDerSnick said. "We agreed to petition NASCAR to realign a date for 2011. NASCAR controls the schedule, and our commitment is that we'd petition NASCAR to realign a date [to Kansas]."

To get that second Kansas date, ISC must convince NASCAR to allow it to move an existing date from one of its 11 tracks outside Kansas -- Daytona, Darlington, Michigan, Richmond, Homestead-Miami, Talladega, Watkins Glen, Chicagoland, Phoenix, Auto Club and Martinsville.

VanDerSnick said the 2011 scheduling process hasn't even begun, but that ISC is already heavy into a broad analytical look at which ISC-owned tracks are candidates to fork over a date. Some are expected, he said, like sheer dollars and cents.

But the other half of the equation is far less finite, less tangible: the importance of history, and what fans want.

"The others are really understanding the roots of the sport, and Martinsville is the oldest track on the circuit," VanDerSnick said. "It was there the first year we went racing. That's very important to us. We're taking this process very seriously."

I received several calls from connected industry types about Martinsville last week, so I asked VanDerSnick specifically about it. He said it's a bit premature to note what tracks are being considered.

"I won't go into details on that," he said. "We're looking at all options at this point. It's such a sensitive process. Wherever the date comes from will present challenges, and we certainly don't treat it lightly.

"The right move isn't necessarily how much money we make it one year. It's broad. We have to keep in mind where the sport came from, and keep an eye on the core fan."

I can only speak for myself. I like aggressive, physical competition when emotions run high and the driver's ability matters significantly.

I just described Martinsvlle.

CONCORD, N.C. -- Few voices in the NASCAR industry carry the weight Dale Earnhardt Jr.'s does. He can't grasp why he's such a big deal, but fact is, he is. On Wednesday, he addressed several key topics about the 2010 season during the media-tour stop at Hendrick Motorsports. Here's a quick peek:

• Danicamania

So, how's Danica Patrick progressing in stock cars?

Don't ask her high-profile team owner. He only knows what he hears.

Granted, he hears great things, but he hasn't seen it for himself just yet.

"Tony [Eury] Jr. and Kelley [Earnhardt] have to tell me what to do with Danica," Earnhardt said. "It's up to them. I'd be fun to be more involved, but driving this Cup car [requires] little distractions."

Junior said he hasn't seen Patrick since they formally announced her move to JR Motorsports back in mid-December. Patrick lives in Phoenix, Junior near Charlotte.

He said having Eury as part-owner of the team is key. He's fully invested in ensuring Patrick's success.

• Reality show

Speaking of distractions, Earnhardt can ill-afford any from the No. 88 Cup Chevy in 2010. He seems refreshed, invigorated. Was 2009 a wake-up call?

Negative.

"I appreciated how hard it was because it was a challenge for me from the very beginning," he said. "I won three races in the first half of my rookie year, and we'd won two straight Busch championships already. I thought, hell, we're gonna rock this deal just like Busch. Then we tanked out, so reality hit quick for me."

• Start me up (earlier!)

Earnhardt is the nostalgic type, loves old-school NASCAR and appreciates the sport's history like few others wheeling cars these days.

Evidence of his homage to days gone by: The Speed Channel show he once hosted (still may; I have no idea) about long-lost competition, and a penchant for emulating historic paint schemes with his own cars.

At Darlington in 2008 he ran Darrell Waltrip's '80s-era Mountain Dew No. 88, and it was the baddest-looking ride to grace the track in years. His driving suit, incidentally, was even better.

Then he one-upped himself with Buddy Baker's late-'70s Gray Ghost, black with silver numbers. It was even sharper than the Dew car.

That love of history is the main reason he's such a proponent of NASCAR's decision to implement unified, earlier start times.

It whisks him back to childhood.

"I'm super-happy about [the start time change]," Earnhardt said. "When I was a kid, one thing I counted on was rushing home from church to catch the start of the race. There's something really awesome about that routine."

He's right.

Many longtime fans remember it well.

• Chemistry experiment

Though some drivers -- Carl Edwards, for example -- don't believe in it, it seems chemistry is vital to many teams' success in NASCAR. Earnhardt isn't sure he's ever experienced great chemistry.

"I can't really say that I've really been in a situation yet where I feel like the chemistry for me was really golden," he said. "I've been with some great teams, and had good wins and great success at certain periods of time in my career. But it's hard for me to really be able to point out what exactly great chemistry is just yet."

Lance McGrew may be just the guy to show him. They're buddies off the track as well. For Junior, that's paramount.

"I get along great with Lance and we have a lot of fun, and I think that's important that we enjoy being around each other, and we can kind of build on that friendship and learn from each other at the racetrack in our work ethic and work habits," Earnhardt said. "That stuff should work itself out. I definitely think we're going in the correct direction, which is good compared to where we were going last year."

Jeremy Mayfield's reinstatement to NASCAR competition Wednesday by a federal judge in Charlotte, N.C., is the most bewildering non-fatal development I can recall in the industry -- including the embarrassing 2008 racial and sexual discrimination suit filed by former official Mauricia Grant.

Why? This decision emasculates the sanctioning body like never before.

It means a driver who NASCAR officials claim they know is a methamphetamine abuser can race on their racetrack, on their watch, at 200 mph if he so desires.

And in the process, rub their nose in it.

And they can do nothing whatsoever about it, other than test him incessantly, which the judge says is their prerogative.

NASCAR is free enterprise. It's open to anyone who has a fast car and can pay the entrance fee. In the wake of Judge Graham Mullen's decision, that now includes a driver the sanctioning body suspended for testing positive for methamphetamine.

I can't imagine the rage coursing through NASCAR president Mike Helton's blood right now. I can't imagine the shock CEO Brian France experienced when Mullen said the harm to Mayfield's reputation was worse than the harm to the sport.

For decades NASCAR has been an "our sandbox" entity: Do it our way or find another place to play. That may have now changed.

NASCAR isn't accustomed to being beaten. Don't forget, it was NASCAR that requested the case be moved to federal court.

Since May 9, when Mayfield was initially suspended, transparency was the key concern about NASCAR's drug policy. There was no specific banned-substances list, and the organization chose not to divulge the drug for which Mayfield tested positive.

That raises the question: Should NASCAR, then, revamp its policy to be more definitive as a result of this decision?

NASCAR doesn't plan to do so at this time. Spokesman Ramsey Poston told ESPN.com on Thursday that NASCAR continues to believe in its policy. He also noted that the policy was not questioned by the judge.

He did say, though, that "after this is all over and the dust settles, we'll go back and see if there are things we can make even stronger. But for now we will continue to administer the plan, which is the best in sports."

Some people think that when Mayfield does get back to the track, NASCAR will make the technical-inspection process hell for his team. I'd say Mayfield's attorneys will be watching that very closely.

Again, it's a whole new ballgame now.

Quite frankly, most everyone in the industry -- other than Mayfield and his representation -- believed Wednesday's injunction hearing was nothing more than a formality.

We were wrong. It is now a precedent -- and not just for NASCAR. This could have an impact throughout the entire sporting world.

Drug use is not pervasive in NASCAR and -- this is key -- this decision is only temporary. The big-boy stuff is yet to come.

But guess what the next driver or crewmember busted for drugs will do.

Sue.

It may have seemed a bit irrational before. But it's the world we live in.

And this time it worked.

CORNELIUS, N.C. -- Red Bull gives you water wings. I've seen it firsthand, courtesy of "The Sheriff" Brian Lee Vickers and his random sponsor exploits.

Vickers has an energy crisis -- he has too much of it. And when it kicks in full-throttle, Dennis the Menace comes out to play.

Dennis is Vickers' alter ego. And today, it's in full effect.

He's a decent enough airman, too. But don't tell Vickers that. He'll believe it.

Ol' Red Beard is at the controls of the Red Bull Albatross, a big ol' hunk of steel built in 1951 that takes off and lands on water. It's pretty awesome, seats about 15 and offers the opportunity to stick your head out the back during flight.

I did it. My hair actually moved.

The Albatross is in town for the Coca-Cola 600 to tote around media and sponsor types. We've been flying around Lake Norman, just north of Charlotte, for a half hour, 45 minutes, maybe, and Vickers will land it on the water.

He's been behind the wheel for 15 minutes or so. He has no license. Thank heavens the plane's full-time pilot is right beside him, wheel of his own in hand. Vickers is like a driver's ed student, sans the timidity.

At this point, I'm stationed in the nose of the plane, laying belly-down on what seems to be a polar bearskin rug, peering straight down at the water out a porthole. It's a stellar view. I live here, and I had never seen the lake like this. I see a few spots I recognize, some watering holes and a couple of my buddies' houses.

I suddenly think about the release waiver I signed, handing my life to Red Bull lawyers if The Sheriff happens to run out of talent.

Ultimately, the landing is smoother than USAir's.

As we drift to a halt, the plane makes the same creaks and groans that the Titanic makes incessantly throughout the movie. I am reminded of my landlubberliness.

After the flight, we boat back to the Rusty Rudder for lunch. Vickers discusses such things as NASA and the currency of Iceland. He reads the Wall Street Journal.

I need a nap, but I settle for a Red Bull.

CONCORD, N.C. -- Word spread like wildfire through the Lowe's Motor Speedway media center Saturday evening that Jeremy Mayfield was at the All-Star Race, and writers hopped up from their seats like Whac-A-Mole targets to find him.

Word on the street was he was stationed atop a National Guard hospitality rig near the infield tunnel on the backstretch, so that's the direction I headed. I ran.

When I arrived, he was -- with headphones on ears -- taking in the Sprint Showdown, watching his No. 41 car compete. His wife, Shana, was with him. He saw me quickly and waved. I waved back, and did a "Can you talk?" motion with my hand, like a duck bill opening and closing.

He motioned me up.

When I got up there, we discussed his situation and our agreement that NASCAR should divulge the drug for which he tested positive. I asked him what it was.

He told me he didn't know.

Didn't know? How could he possibly not know?

"I have no paperwork whatsoever for what I tested for," Mayfield said. "I don't. They've shown me nothing."

Odd. Mayfield confirmed he'd hired legal representation, and wasn't inclined to file for reinstatement. That would be admittance of guilt, he said.

Every word we shared was shot on a mini-HD cam. He wore a microphone. A television crew was documenting his every move. I inquired about it, and he said it's something he'd been working on for a while.

He also told me something very interesting: When NASCAR told him he had the right for a B sample, he thought that meant he would be retested. He didn't realize the same sample would be tested again by the same lab.

"It's illegal. The same lab can't test both samples," he said.

Meanwhile, a slew of reporters had huddled beneath us. I told him he needed to step up and address the situation with them. He agreed, and down he went. He then set forth adamantly defending himself.

He said NASCAR's time line and explanation were inconsistent: "They've indicated something different every day of the week."

NASCAR denied that Saturday night.

"All NASCAR members who violate the policy, including Jeremy, are notified of the substance that caused the failure," league spokesman Ramsey Poston said. "Jeremy was verbally informed of the substance on three occasions last week by NASCAR's medical review officer. NASCAR stands by the reputable physicians and the nationally renowned lab that handles our substance abuse program."

Mayfield wasn't wearing any sort of credential. Rather, I noticed a yellow arm band, which I'm told was an infield pass any fan could buy for $75. Mayfield told the throng he had no plan to go to rehab, and asked whether any of us would do so if we didn't have a problem. He said he took two Claritin D tablets, and that there's more to the story than he's legally able to divulge at this time.

Mayfield got more animated with each passing question, and at one point Shana tried to calm him down. He kept going. He denied taking any illegal drugs and even pinched a bunch of his hair, mentioning that a hair sample would date back before Richmond.

It was like a revelation for him: I'm labeled now. If I'm going to fight this, I darn sure better stand up and fight it.

And he is.

"Wouldn't you want to know? Wouldn't you want a result?" Mayfield said. "If you guys were in my shoes wouldn't you want a result of your results of what happened?"

Earlier in the day I spoke with Tony Furr, Mayfield's old buddy and crew chief, and he backed his driver.

"Jeremy's had allergies. I've known him since '94, and back then he had allergies so bad, there was days it looked like he was crying all the time," Furr said. "On the way to Richmond it was like that. He used to get shots for that stuff and all, and he didn't do that. He took a Claritin.

"And he was out of Claritin and went to the [drug store] right across the road from Richmond [International Raceway] and bought some more Claritin and took another one there because he knew the next day he had to be ready to go. It just so happened it was his time for the random drug test."

Furr also does not believe Mayfield to be a drug abuser.

"It's a difficult situation. We all believe in Jeremy," Furr said. "If he's not the all-American boy, I don't know who is. I've known him all the way up through his career, here, and worked with him on and off. And I know the boy don't drink, smoke, [smoke] dope, none of that stuff.

"So I know Jeremy pretty good. I don't know him like a wife or nothing, but as a friend I've been around him quite a bit, and I can honestly say I don't believe the boy takes any kind of dope whatsoever."

Earlier this week, I received the following e-mail on my SportsNation page and contemplated a long while whether I should integrate it into my weekly Door-to-Door column.

But this topic stands alone.

Marty,

I'm a charter member of Junior Nation. I've followed him religiously since he drove the AC Delco car for his dad. But I can't help but wonder of late if he's trying hard enough. When I see Jeff Gordon and Jimmie Johnson and now Mark Martin doing so great, and Junior's not, there has to be a reason. Does he have the desire it takes to be great?

-- Stephanie Pierce, Columbus, Ga.

Unreal. Just un-dadgum-believable. Imagine that type of scrutiny. Fact is, when you're the highest-profile driver with the most financial backing in the game, you have to produce. And it's time Junior does. You know it. I know it. He knows it.

And he's a realist. He doesn't shy away from that fact.

You're not alone in this thought, Stephanie. That famous phantom voice chimes in my ears 100 times a day: "You've got mail." What it should say is, "Hey man, another frustrated Junior fan on the horn." I thought about this phenomenon earlier in the week while preparing a monologue for the end of the NASCAR Now show Monday. Here's what I came up with:

Dale Earnhardt Jr.'s unrivaled popularity is both a blessing and a curse. His fans expect too much. The media, too. Fact is, to appease all he'll have to hoist the Cup. So when he struggles, a chorus of critics sings to the heavens, making his life a living hell. Or not. Earnhardt told me last week that criticism actually brings him hope. It means they expect us to excel, he said. I guess he listened well to the ol' man, who used to say: Boos or cheers, doesn't matter; so long as they're saying something.

I spent last Thursday and Friday down in Batesville, Ark., at Mark Martin Fanfest, during which I interviewed Earnhardt. Quite frankly, it was too poignant not to share.

I asked him if he was tired of defending his team -- particularly his cousin and crew chief, Tony Eury Jr. -- all the time.

"I ain't too tired of it," he said. "I mean, there's a side of you that gets a little frustrated sometimes, but at the same time that means that there's hope that it'll get right. Apparently there's a lot of people who feel like [the team] should be up [high], and that's where we want to be, and that's where we want to get to.

"And if the critics even feel like that's where we should be, that gives us hope that we can get there. I guess my point is, people aren't sitting around saying that's never going to happen. So as long as the possibility is there, I guess that's the lure that keeps you comin' back and keeps you working to get it."

Junior remains quite confident in his team's ability, but there are times certain members of his crew get down. At that point, they look to him for direction. Folks wonder why he keeps missing his pit box, how he keeps running into walls. But he's undaunted.

"I think the team's really good," he said. "We didn't finish in the top 10 at Texas because I got loose in Turn 1 and hit the wall, and I know I can fix that. It's frustrating when you're not running good and you don't know what the problem is.

"The team is positive, and one of the first things that really gets you disappointed and upset when you're not getting the results you want is when everyone's attitude starts to deteriorate. And it's one of the hardest things to stay positive."

What about him? Is it difficult to check himself?

"No, not for me," Earnhardt said. "I can get myself up and be ready to kill at any second. And you want all your guys on your team to be that way -- you really want them to be in attack mode.

"And even when things are down, you have to have that attitude, and you have to be fired up, get up on it. And when you see some of that start to slip, and you feel like somebody doesn't quite believe in it and just [isn't] buying into your theory, it's tough for everyone else. It takes just one guy to fall by the wayside, it affects the rest of the team."

That, then, begs the question: Is he willing to jerk a knot in somebody?

"Sometimes you just gotta say a few things to get them fired up, because they're lookin' at you, or they're lookin' at Tony Jr., and lookin' to some of the leaders of the team to follow them," he said.

"And they'll follow their lead and whatever their attitude is. So sometimes you have to let them know what direction we're going today. That's the No. 1 thing, trying to keep everyone fired up, showing up, being excited about being there and doing a hard day's work."

Mark Martin said last week that no one in the sport is driving as hard as Dale Jr. That's high praise from a guy whose preparation and desire set a lofty standard.

"He oughta know, he's out there running with me," Junior said. "I take a lot of pride in that comment from him, because you can see it when you're out there with people, you can see exactly how much they're giving and putting forth and how hard they're trying.

"So that means a lot, because I feel like I give 110 percent when I'm out there. I feel like I give a lot more than a lot of other guys do, specifically in the race.

"I feel like I just drive really, really hard, and it's great to hear that from your competitors because those are the guys who are the true judge of character on the racetrack. It's one thing to sit here on the sideline or sit up in the grandstand and try to tell the difference between who's working, and who's really good and who's not. The true judges are the people who are out there on the racetrack with you."

NEW YORK -- NASCAR legend Cale Yarborough has provided three-time defending champ Jimmie Johnson some surprising moments through the years.

There was the time when Johnson was 8 years old, and his family stopped at a Hardee's restaurant en route to a dirt bike race. Yarborough drove the Hardee's-sponsored No. 28 then, and Johnson was certain he was stopping to meet the NASCAR star.

He got a burger and a heartbreak.

"I was devastated," Johnson said.

Friday night was the antithesis, as Yarborough showed up at the Waldorf-Astoria to surprise Johnson during the Sprint Cup awards ceremony.

It was Jimmie's night, but Cale stole the show.

"Somebody finally did it," Yarborough said of Johnson's having tied his previously unmatched 30-year mark of three straight titles. "But, son of a gun, it took 'em 30 years."

He then shuttled a reminder.

"Tied, really, is all he's done," Yarborough quipped. "If anybody was to tie my record, I'm glad Jimmie did it. Just skip one year and we'll be good."

Johnson was shocked. He grew up idolizing Yarborough and was clearly humbled to be in his presence.

The resounding theme at the 2008 NASCAR Sprint Cup banquet was twofold: appreciation of Johnson's historical march to a three-peat, and the dire need to support American automakers.

Ten drivers and Hendrick Motorsports owner Rick Hendrick graced the stage Friday evening at Manhattan's Waldorf-Astoria, and almost all of them -- including Tony Stewart, who drove a Toyota this past season -- stressed the need to support the domestic auto manufacturers.

"Chevrolet has supported us for a long time," Jeff Burton said. "It's time we supported them."

Burton issued another stark reminder to the crowd.

"We forget we're in a time of war," Burton said. "This Christmas season, when you give a donation, remember the troops. We live in a great country, and we're eating steak tonight, and somewhere there's a guy laying in the dirt protecting our country."

Chevrolet president Ed Peper accepted the manufacturer's championship with a poignant message: "This is the toughest fight of our lives." Peper also urged the gallery to remind local political officials of the importance of the automotive industry plight.

"In difficult times, you find out who your friends are," Peper said.

One of NASCAR's new friends, Oscar-winning actor Kevin Costner, offered an interesting perspective on the sport during a review of its 60-year history, though he did mistakenly refer to Dale Earnhardt as "The Terminator."

Oops. Movie thing, I reckon.

Costner was introduced by Betty Jane France, widow of Bill France Jr. She eloquently used the story line of Costner's movie "Field of Dreams" to tell her own family's story.

It was strikingly similar.

Just as Costner's character was enticed by the voices of ghosts to build a baseball field in an Iowa cornfield and called crazy for following through, folks in the late '50s told Betty Jane's father-in-law -- Bill France Sr. -- that he was nuts for the vision of building a 2.5-mile superspeedway in the middle of a Florida swamp.

A half-century later, it's the most hallowed track in racing outside Indianapolis.

As Mrs. France spoke, a photo was shown of the first Daytona 500 ticket. The price was $8.

Costner openly admitted to being asked to stall, and told a story on "King" Richard Petty, with whom he was joined onstage. The two legends had done a movie together once, and one of the scenes called for the King to ride shotgun in his machine.

Petty was eerily quiet, Costner recalled, and he asked whether Petty was OK. Indeed he was -- he'd just never seen the view from the passenger seat of the No. 43.

"He was a little wigged out by that," Costner laughed, just before reminding the assembled drivers that their millions are largely due to Petty's life's work.

Petty had a great line. He was congratulating Johnson and said, "The next time you see me up here [onstage in New York] … think you can handle seven?"

As in the seven titles owned by the King.

Last but not least, comedian John Pinette deserves a shout-out for opening the evening with a hysterical set. Anything that includes Waffle House, buffets and extensive flatulence resonates with the NASCAR crowd.

Merry Christmas, everyone.

WATKINS GLEN, N.Y. -- Old-school NASCAR fans are apt to wax nostalgic about how great competition used to be. To hear it, you'd swear there were 150 passes for the lead every weekend, and the final one came off of Turn 4 on the final lap. Every single time.

I'm no different, really.

My recollection of how it "used to be" is Jeff Gordon vs. Jeff Burton in the Southern 500, tires worn out, cars sliding around, beating the tar out of each other in search of the checkers. Or "One Hot Night," when Kyle Petty dumped Dale Earnhardt, then stuffed Davey Allison in the fence as they crossed the finish line.

Damn, that was a good time.

That's how it used to be, right? And many fans aren't willing to accept anything less.

So what changed? Perception, possibly?

Inadvertently, I got on the topic Friday with Dale Earnhardt Jr., who prides himself as a NASCAR historian of sorts. He just respects the sport's roots.

"I think a lot of it might have been not so much the competition itself, but the personalities -- the Dale Earnhardts the Darrell Waltrips and the Bobby Allisons," he said. "We got a lot of great personalities now, but the sport itself has become a whole lot more corporate and a lot less personal in that respect -- those guys were different."

Earnhardt wasn't quite sure how to express his opinion, but was sure to note that an emotionally charged NASCAR is a more engaging NASCAR.

"They really wore everything on their sleeves about the sport and how they raced, and how each weekend went and what they felt about everything," Earnhardt said. "They could be that way. We're not able to be that way that much anymore because everything gets published and printed. You have to be a whole lot more stale than you want to be."

And competition?

"The racing was different, but I personally don't think the racing was better," he said. "I think, actually, if you laid down two races side by side, what we have today and what we had then, I think you'd sell more tickets to what we have today due to the fact that there are more cars with the opportunity to win, and there's still a lot of drama and stuff that goes on during the races that makes it exciting.

"But, you know, if you could ask the fans about what lot of drivers they would prefer, they might say the old guys. I would."