Sixteen doctors examined Dale Earnhardt last week, seeking the cause of the once-indefatigable NASCAR driver's bizarre blackout at the start of the Aug. 31 Southern 500 at Darlington, S.C. "They didn't check to see if I was pregnant," Earnhardt said last Friday when the tests were finished, "but they did everything else. And they didn't find anything."
So with no firm diagnosis, what was Earnhardt to do? Easy. Follow NASCAR's long-running medical rule of thumb: When in doubt, go racing.
He did just that, driving in last Saturday night's Exide 400 at Richmond without incident. He was never a factor, finishing 15th after qualifying 22nd.
But even before he faded to black at Darlington, Earnhardt, a seven-time Winston Cup champion, had been fading fast from the limelight. The question What's wrong with Earnhardt?—asked with increasing frequency as he has become ever more mired in a winless streak that now stands at 51 races—has gained new resonance with his mysterious blackout. At 46 Earnhardt presses on even though he has been replaced at racing's pinnacle by 26-year-old Jeff Gordon, who won the Southern 500 and a $1 million bonus on the very afternoon that Earnhardt lapsed from consciousness and wrecked. One of Earnhardt's competitors jokingly said, "Hell, that was the only way Earnhardt could take attention away from Gordon and the Winston Million."
That was about as funny as the other drivers got at Richmond. It didn't sit well with them that all the Intimidator's doctors couldn't put together a clear explanation of why he had started the previous race in a semiconscious state, immediately smacked the wall in the first turn and slammed it even harder exiting Turn 2, then drove slowly around the track twice in a disoriented search for his pits—and didn't remember any of it when he finally came to his senses later that day. "I'd be a fool to stand here and tell you we're not concerned," said Kyle Petty.
The lead neurosurgeon on the case, Charles Branch of Bowman Gray Medical Center in Winston-Salem, N.C., said another blackout was "very unlikely" and told Earnhardt, "there is nothing we could find that would keep you from pursuing your occupation, if this is what you want to do." But he also noted that he can't guarantee there won't be a recurrence, conceding that the episode "remains somewhat unexplained."
"Why," asked Petty, "would they release somebody if they didn't know what it was?" Said Gordon, "Everybody would like for them to have found something, just to have answers for what happened." Earnhardt's competitors weren't so concerned about racing with him at three-quarter-mile Richmond International Raceway, where race speeds run in the 120-mph range. "But what if we go to Daytona or Talladega [NASCAR's fastest tracks, where speeds approach 200 mph]," Sterling Marlin wondered, "and it happens while he's running at the front of a big pack of cars?"
After clearing Earnhardt to race, NASCAR president Bill France Jr. said, "Who are we to question a medical team like that?" Yet the doctors had produced only three educated guesses as to the cause of Earnhardt's blackout. One possibility, said Branch, was "a migrainelike episode in which a small blood vessel feeding the brain went into temporary spasm" and restricted blood flow to the brain. Another was "a temporary short-circuit in the brain" because of scarring from bruises to the brain Earnhardt might have suffered in past clashes. The third guess is vasodepressor syndrome, in which the pulse rate falls rather than rises under stress. Earnhardt's pulse has been monitored just before races at 55-60 beats per minute, compared with rates of 100-200 for other drivers. Earnhardt is so calm he's been known to nap in his car before a race starts.
Earnhardt's arguably precipitous return to racing was "just another example," said longtime rival Darrell Waltrip, of a part macho, part mandatory practice in the Winston Cup Series. Under NASCAR rules, drivers are not only allowed but also effectively forced to either play hurt or fall hopelessly behind in the point standings. If a driver doesn't start a race, he doesn't get points. (If a substitute driver takes over after an injured driver turns one lap, the injured man gets the points.) "This is the only team sport I know where everything really hinges on one guy," said Waltrip. "I think if you told Dale right now, 'You can put Steve Park [Earnhardt's protégé] in your car this weekend, and Steve can collect joints for you,' then Dale would say, 'Let's et Steve drive the car this weekend.' "
Asked if the Darlington episode was his most jarring reminder of mortality, Earnhardt chuckled wryly and said, "I think Talladega was worse than this," referring to he horrific wreck in July 1996 that left him with a fractured sternum and collarbone. Despite his injuries Earnhardt set a course record in winning the pole at Watkins Glen, N.Y., two weeks after the Talladega crash and finished a gutsy sixth after leading much of the race. But he hasn't found himself in Victory Lane since he won at Atlanta on March 10, 1996.