Are NASCAR's problems riding on Junior's back?

Back in February, I met with Dale Earnhardt Jr. in his hauler, then parked at the Las Vegas Motor Speedway. He was relieved to talk more boxing than racing. I was relieved to find that access to such a star came without a price.

What happened?

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I didn’t have to pretend he was a good guy. He was, which is to say, authentic, mildly profane and self-deprecating in just the right dose. I was taken with his good manners, the way he waved off the PR lady. He didn’t know me from Adam, but still wanted to please a stranger. Maybe that’s his problem.

But now, with NASCAR’s postseason a fortnight away, I feel sadly duty-bound to recall what he said that day.

It was reasonable to expect of him a “top five” finish in 2010, he said. What’s more, qualifying for the Chase for the Sprint Cup, he said, shouldn’t be seen as an obstacle or an accomplishment.

“It’s pretty ------- easy to make the Chase,” he said. “If you look at some of the guys who make the Chase and what happened during their season, you go, ‘damn, ---- man, that’s not that difficult to surpass.’ ”

Barring divine intervention, this will be the second consecutive season — and the third time in four years — that Earnhardt has failed to qualify for the Chase.

I’ll say it again: he has the most thankless job in American sports. It’s not just living up to an icon father. It’s living up to a beloved daddy who died blocking for him at Daytona. Other guys have mere back stories. Junior’s is an epic poem.

Still, he has talent, as evidenced by his third-place points finish in 2003 and fifth-place finishes in 2004 and 2006. He has equipment, too, as he drives for NASCAR’s premiere team, Hendrick Motorsports. What he lacks, however, are excuses.

I’m a racing fan in the most casual sense only. But I left the hauler that day as a member of Junior Nation, or at least as much of a fan as a writer can be. But now, with Earnhardt 19th in the standings, I can’t help but think he’s about to surpass Tiger Woods as the biggest disappointment in American sports.

He’s infinitely more endearing than Tiger. Actually, with Earnhardt a month shy of his 36th birthday, I’m tempted to play shrink and argue that his long-standing bachelor-hood makes him more sympathetic than his own dad. At some level, he realizes that failing as a father and a husband would be worse than failing as a driver.

But at least Tiger’s collapse is explainable. Speaking from personal experience, marital collapse is a legit excuse.

Last season, Hendrick’s Mark Martin — then a mere 50 years old — finished second. This year, as a reward for finishing 25th, Earnhardt got most of Martin’s engineers. Now Martin is 15th. Again, I can’t resist playing shrink. Maybe Junior’s problem is guilt.

A sport is as big as its biggest star. Problem is, Earnhardt hasn’t won a Sprint Cup race since June 15, 2008. For purposes of comparison, note that Woods hasn’t won a tournament since September, 2009, when he was coming back from knee surgery.

Still, NASCAR CEO Brian France, who probably had a lot more help from his daddy than Junior had from his, calls Earnhardt “The Franchise.” Still, with all this talk of a precipitous decline in attendance and television ratings, you wonder what NASCAR’s problem is. Is it really the economy? Or Junior?

Is it the price of gas, which was even more obscene three years ago? Or is it that the sport’s most popular driver, for seven consecutive years, can’t make the playoffs?

Last month, the New York Times did a piece on die-cast stock-car replicas, a bellwether business for NASCAR. Apparently, sales are down by as much as 20 percent from last year. Here’s the catch, though: Junior represents between a quarter and third of the market.

Now consider some of the attendance figures, which have dropped off since Earnhardt began his free-fall in July. NASCAR’s numbers are notoriously suspect. For instance, an Aug. 1 crowd that NASCAR estimated at 100,000 was really in the neighborhood of 48,000, according to the Pocono Record. Nevertheless, to use NASCAR’s own figures is to think the franchise needs a new Franchise.

On July 3, Earnhardt finished fourth at Daytona, a race sponsored by Coke Zero. Had the season ended then, he’d have at least qualified for the Chase. But in the seven races since he’s finished 23rd, 27th, 27th, 26th, 19th, 13th and 22nd.

Doesn’t make you want to go out and chug an Amp energy drink or enlist in the National Guard, does it?

Doesn’t make people want to go to the track, either. Bristol had been a sold out for 55 consecutive races, going back to 1982, a streak that ended this season. The Brickyard race in Indianapolis drew 180,000 last year (by NASCAR’s count). This year, 140,000. Last year, Atlanta Motor Speedway drew 111,300 for its Labor Day race. On Sunday, it was 93,200.

NASCAR prides itself on being America’s second biggest spectator sport, after the NFL. But what happens to all those spectators when it becomes clear that their biggest star can no longer drive like one? I know why they love him. But for how long?