Where There's Smoke...

NASCAR superstar Tony Stewart brawls, cusses, eats way too many doughnuts and (usually) drives a race car better than anyone on earth. How did a potbellied prima donna become the soul of auto racing?

MIKE GUYPosted Sep 04, 2008 7:00 AM

A short while later, still agitated, Stewart boards his seven-seat Citation Bravo jet at the Phoenix airport. He sets down a kitty caddy containing Wylie and Wyatt, his mewling Tonkinese cats. Stewart used to travel with a monkey named Mojo, but when Mojo grew into adolescence — "We realized he was exactly the wrong breed to have as a pet" — Stewart donated him to the Louisville Zoo in Kentucky.

As we take off over the Phoenix Speedway, Stewart opens a box containing piping-hot Papa John's pizza and takes a slice.

"Good race, Tony," I say, trying to ease the tension.

He takes a bite and chews.

"Oh, you think so?" he asks. "Because I think it sucked."

This is Tony Stewart's 13th year in NASCAR, and at 37 he remains the most magnetic driver in the sport, even if he isn't always the most successful. At a time when the $3.5 billion industry of NASCAR has corporatized and spawned a generation of technically gifted, clean-cut racers like Johnson and Jeff Gordon, Stewart — or "Smoke," as he's called in the back rooms — is a throwback to racing's older era of bootleggers and brawlers. With his prodigious stomach, permanent stubble and more than occasional public outbursts, Stewart reminds the faithful of scruffier icons like Bobby Allison, Junior Johnson, Dale Earnhardt Sr. and Stewart's idol, A.J. Foyt. Over the years, he has thrown his gloves at Kenny Irwin, had a shoving match with Robby Gordon, been accused of assaulting a fan in Bristol, Tennessee (but not indicted), knocked the headphones off a track official at a midget race, kicked a reporter's tape recorder (and apologetically replaced it), punched a photographer (and later befriended him), and told off NASCAR officials after they forced him to wear a helmet restraint.

"Tony represents what made this sport," says Hunter. "Drivers never held back in the old days. They said whatever came to mind. You never knew what Junior Johnson was going to say, but if he says it, you know he believes it. Tony's like that. I don't want our guys to be vanilla. We need different flavors."


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