By DAVE KALLMANN
[email protected]
Kyle Petty doesn't really fit in modern NASCAR, and that's precisely why he belongs.
You could say that's not exactly breaking news. Long hair, earrings and long-forgotten notions of a Nashville calling demonstrated decades ago that while Kyle may be his father's son, he's not his father's clone.
So be it.
He's not a corporate drone. He drives to drive and hopes to win, but he is not driven to win in the way that many of today's young chargers are, not in the sense that he needs to bring back the trophy or nothing but the steering wheel.
A recently concluded stint in the TNT broadcast booth showed again how Petty is different.
Most would say he performed better there than he has in any five-race span on the track in a long time. Petty sounded comfortable and he was insightful and honest.
And yet he'll be just as comfortable next week in Indianapolis when he goes back to his regular job as a driver, a job by which he refuses to be defined.
"Driving a race car is what I do, it's not who I am," Petty said. "Some people think of me as a race-car driver. That's OK. Some people think of me as a guy who has a camp. That's OK. Some people think of me as a guy who's lost his son. That's OK."
Petty is the sort of man who'll die without regrets.
If he wants to experience something he does, be it singing country music, sky diving or broadcasting, he does.
When his son Adam was killed in a racing accident, he and wife, Pattie, turned the episode into as much of a positive as they could by launching the Victory Junction Gang Camp for seriously ill children.
So if Petty never wins another race - and he knows he probably won't - then why should he regret that?
"I carried tires during pit stops and I worked in the shop and then I was fortunate enough to drive and then I won races, and now I've come over a peak here and I haven't won races," said Petty, who won eight times from 1985-'95.
"But I still get to drive a race car, and I still get to hang out with people. So I don't have an issue with it."
At 47 years old and as a veteran of 28 years and 799 races, he remains a refreshing change of pace in the sport. Whatever his role.
[email protected]
Kyle Petty doesn't really fit in modern NASCAR, and that's precisely why he belongs.
You could say that's not exactly breaking news. Long hair, earrings and long-forgotten notions of a Nashville calling demonstrated decades ago that while Kyle may be his father's son, he's not his father's clone.
So be it.
He's not a corporate drone. He drives to drive and hopes to win, but he is not driven to win in the way that many of today's young chargers are, not in the sense that he needs to bring back the trophy or nothing but the steering wheel.
A recently concluded stint in the TNT broadcast booth showed again how Petty is different.
Most would say he performed better there than he has in any five-race span on the track in a long time. Petty sounded comfortable and he was insightful and honest.
And yet he'll be just as comfortable next week in Indianapolis when he goes back to his regular job as a driver, a job by which he refuses to be defined.
"Driving a race car is what I do, it's not who I am," Petty said. "Some people think of me as a race-car driver. That's OK. Some people think of me as a guy who has a camp. That's OK. Some people think of me as a guy who's lost his son. That's OK."
Petty is the sort of man who'll die without regrets.
If he wants to experience something he does, be it singing country music, sky diving or broadcasting, he does.
When his son Adam was killed in a racing accident, he and wife, Pattie, turned the episode into as much of a positive as they could by launching the Victory Junction Gang Camp for seriously ill children.
So if Petty never wins another race - and he knows he probably won't - then why should he regret that?
"I carried tires during pit stops and I worked in the shop and then I was fortunate enough to drive and then I won races, and now I've come over a peak here and I haven't won races," said Petty, who won eight times from 1985-'95.
"But I still get to drive a race car, and I still get to hang out with people. So I don't have an issue with it."
At 47 years old and as a veteran of 28 years and 799 races, he remains a refreshing change of pace in the sport. Whatever his role.
