“I’m scared all the time in a race car. Because in a race car, if you’re doing your job properly, you have to push the limits. You have to step to the edge and maybe a little bit over it. If you don’t, you’re going to get beat. So that split second, when you’re just over the edge, yeah, that’s fear. I guess it would not be a full experience without experiencing fear.”
— Jeff Gordon



We are now sitting in his car in the school parking lot where he will pick up his daughter Ella. He’s looking forward to spending some more time with her and his son Leo. He’s looking forward to seeing what kind of broadcaster he can be. He’s looking forward to seeing what he can get done about his back pain. He’s also looking forward to trying to win the championship one last time.

These days, there are no boos for Jeff Gordon. He’s beloved at 44 — if he could somehow win that last championship it would be the sport’s version of Nicklaus winning the Masters at 46 or John Elway winning that last Super Bowl. People keep asking him what his legacy will be, and he doesn’t really like that because he doesn’t think it’s his place to say. People keep asking him what he will miss, and he doesn’t particularly like that either because he doesn’t know yet. I ask him now, “In 1998, when you won 13 races, you were probably too young too appreciate it much. Would you appreciate that more now?”

He sits behind the steering wheel, with the engine off, and he thinks about it for a second.

“Actually,” he says, “It’d be exactly the same. I wouldn’t appreciate it near as much as I should. I’d be looking around, waiting for people to give me that dirty look. I’d be getting booed a lot more than I am now.”

He keeps looking out the window. “It would be awesome,” he says.