Winston Cup race at Las Vegas and a gold-plated globe from a win in the
1993 Southern 500.Surrounded by shiny trophies from North Wilkesboro, Rockingham and Darlington, it's easy to miss the prehistoric timepiece. But for Mark, it's impossible to forget.
A nicked-up faceplate reveals he was the 1977 S & S Auto Parts Rookie of the Year in the American Speed Association. It's the only tangible reminder of his career in the Midwestern-based series, where he won four championships and countless races before becoming one of NASCAR's 50 greatest drivers.
"When Arlene and I got married in 1984 we moved seven times in five years," Mark said. "All my ASA trophies hit the dumpster on the second or third move. She said, 'You're going to be sorry.' She was right."
Mark is retiring from Nextel Cup at the end of the season, and the plainspoken native of Batesville, Ark., isn't the sentimental type. Thinking about his final Daytona 500 still "doesn't faze me." But his outlook changed last month when he stepped into a preseason news conference, was greeted by throngs of media and felt "like when you jump into cold water and it takes your breath away."
"I said 'Oh no, is this the last time I'll see these guys?'" Mark said. "Everything started meaning more to me. I thought about the people I've known and relationships I've had, and I recognized more and more that it's about the symbols more than anything else."
At the end of Seclusion Drive, inside a converted airplane hangar a short walk from Mark's house in a fly-in community ("You can't park there, I'm pulling my plane out," a visitor was told yesterday), he is storing the symbols of his success. Aside from a neatly arranged set of workout equipment, a conference table, a leather couch and a large-screen TV, the warehouse-sized room is dominated by trophies, framed firesuits and newspaper clippings, helmets, banners and cars from a career featuring 34 Cup victories and 41 pole positions.
Mark long has maintained he doesn't race for fame. But he does live for the memories and each piece of nostalgia helps jog his brain about a lifetime built around racing.
"It makes me think about the crew chiefs and the people that were there; the stories and the circumstances," he said.
A lime-green car from one of his four IROC championships is parked alongside a yellow and black Winn Dixie-sponsored Ford, a Busch Series fixture that ran for the final time in 2000 at Homestead.
"There is a reason why I finished second to Jeff Gordon that day," Mark said, lifting the car's hood to point at a right-front tire worn to its cords.
A lugnut wired to a Watkins Glen trophy tells another tire story from 1993 when he overcame a slow pit stop with a troublesome right rear for an unlikely victory.
"[Former crew chief] Robin Pemberton was changing tires back then and wired that nut," Mark said. "You can look at a lot of these and remember what circumstances were involved in winning those races."
The mementos also recall light-hearted moments, which explains why a pair of underwear are embroidered with "Mark Martin winner, Martinsville, 4-9-00."
"I was frustrated during a Saturday practice driving so hard, and I'm on the radio going, 'You've got to have panties to run this place,'" he said. "We won the race the next day. Some of my crew had those made up."
The Virginia-shaped plaques from his record five Busch victories at Richmond International Raceway are lined up along an adjoining wall. They won't be much longer.
Mark will open a museum devoted to his career next year adjacent to his Ford dealership in Batesville, and the hundreds of items inside the hangar are ticketed to fill his new showcase.
"Very few people see this here," Mark said. "I don't appreciate it because I see it every day. I want to put it where everyone can appreciate it."
