Commentary: Jeff Gordon brought excitement, fans to NASCAR

BROOKLYN, Mich. – Jeff Gordon once hosted “Saturday Night Live.” That might be hard to believe, a NASCAR driver as a front man for a pop-culture institution.

But Gordon was everywhere then, when hosting “SNL” meant you’d made it, when stepping from NASCAR’s insular world into a wider swath of Americana didn’t seem as far-fetched as it does now.

This fall, when Gordon retires – he raced for the last time in Michigan on Sunday – NASCAR will have a large hole to fill.

Matt Kenseth, anyone?

He won the Pure Michigan 400 on Sunday at Michigan International Speedway, but he will never be confused with anyone’s idea of a crossover star.

How about Kevin Harvick?

He leads NASCAR’s point standings in the Sprint Cup Series.

Who?

I thought so.

Sure, race fans know who Harvick is, some even root for him, if they prefer their heroes edgy and somber. Hey, that plays in certain circles. It’s a dangerous sport.

Yet, no matter how many races Harvick wins, he never will be Gordon. No current driver will be, and that leaves the sport in a delicate spot.

Without drivers to sell to a broader audience, NASCAR will remain a niche sport. For that and a few other reasons – changing economy, shifting cultural demographics – stock-car racing is not the draw it used to be.

Only a decade ago, after George W. Bush won his second term, we were talking about NASCAR dads, about the sport’s sphere of influence, about unending corporate sponsorships. Every Sunday, the circuit turned its tracks into minor cities, throwing a four-day party that culminated in a race that drew more viewers than some NFL games.

Gordon was as responsible as anyone for the surge that began in the mid-’90s and peaked in the mid-2000s.

He was an outsider from Vallejo, Calif., a clean-cut, good-looking kid in a sport that loves its drivers unvarnished. And he won. A lot. So far 92 times – third all-time behind Richard Petty (200 wins) and David Pearson (105).

Most important, he beat the most beloved driver of that era, Dale Earnhardt, who embodied the sort of true grit hard-core fans wanted. Gordon embodied control, as if he had been prepackaged.

He was Hollywood. He was Madison Avenue. He was one of the biggest sports stars of the ‘90s. Not Michael Jordan, but at the very least the Jordan of racing. He attracted non-race fans to racing.

No driver – not Jimmie Johnson, not Danica Patrick, not even Dale Earnhardt Jr., the most popular driver among the base – brings non-race fans to racing the way Gordon did. It’s easy to forget that.

It’s easy to forget, too, that as Gordon makes his way around the country on the circuit one final time, soaking up the tributes, that so many fans once hated him, too. That was good for business.

Every sport needs tension, needs rivals, needs its most talented to be its most polarizing. At his height, Gordon was infinitely divisive. Women swooned. Down-home fans booed. Boardroom fans wooed.

These days, Gordon is something of an elder statesman. He’s 44, and graying around the edges. He can still drive; he finished 17th Sunday and is 13th in the points standings.

But he is ready to move on from the weekly grind, from days like Sunday, when the hot August wind pushed temperatures to 150 degrees inside the race car’s cockpits, though he’d like to come back again, as a spectator.

“When I have less responsibility and (can) just kind of be a fan, you know?” Gordon said last week.

In his heyday, he made it easier to be one, whether you loved or loathed him. He leaves the sport – and our state for the last time as a racer – with a complicated but undeniable legacy. He changed NASCAR.

“Saturday Night Live” noticed.

The sport will notice his absence even more.