And then, the deepest cut of all: Earnhardt Sr.'s death. The mourning for Earnhardt Sr. — who, by the way, had nothing but respect for Gordon, whom he nicknamed "Wonder Boy" — was galvanized by resentment. Earnhardt embodied everything stock car racing had been. He was from Kannapolis, N.C., a high school dropout, the son of another hard man, the racer Ralph Earnhardt. Dale never spoke pretty. Gordon was careful to mention his sponsor, to thank the Lord, to shave his cleft chin a shiny blue. And he had the awful manners to whup up on Earnhardt Sr. As of this moment, he is the only driver who has a chance to eclipse Earnhardt Sr.'s record seven championships (shared with Richard Petty).

These days, Gordon is his own man, and except for the fact that he's one of the nicest people you'd ever want to meet, you might think he's on the verge of becoming an urban sophisticate. He announced his engagement to Ingrid at a California croquet event. He has his own wine label, the Jeff Gordon Collection. Plainly, he is way past worrying what the grandstands think.

But he does care what his wife thinks. Born with a high-revving metabolism, Gordon didn't pay much attention to fitness until he hit his 30s."You know, I'm not really a gym guy," he admits. He prefers to tune the machine from the inside out. "I went to a nutritionist," he says. "I started to eat a lot more fish and vegetables, a lot less fat and calories. I do a shake every morning with fruit." This year, he vows to more bike riding to stay in shape. "It's always a New Year's resolution."

To be sure, the price of being Gordon has come down a bit since the nineties. For one thing, the hard-core fan base has finally had to concede that he is the real deal, among the most talented drivers ever to turn a wheel. In 2007, he came within a few points of winning his fifth Cup championship, in a year when the conventional wisdom had him winding down, softened by domesticity. Meanwhile, the drivers themselves are a much more diverse group than a decade ago. There are now Europeans, open-wheel aces like Dario Franchitti and Juan Pablo Montoya. The upside of NASCAR's sudden growth is that the sport is rapidly outgrowing its own chicken-fried prejudices. How do you measure such progress? When Gordon wins at Southern tracks, fewer beer cans rain down on his No. 24 car.

Still, Gordon remains a man apart, a distant champion. He's enjoying the immunity of being one of the sport's veterans and leaders and is speaking his mind more than ever. For example, Gordon doesn't think much of NASCAR's new car, the larger, boxier, and safer "Car of Tomorrow" — "We could have done so much more with the clean slate," he says. He even wonders how racing will remain relevant in the face of global warming. Would he drive a hybrid race car? "Absolutely. I think we all want to be green, we all want to do things that are good for the environment, and racing isn't necessarily what's good for the environment. So of course we should move forward with the rest of the world." But much of NASCAR Nation thinks global warming is some sort of liberal hoax and hybrid cars are for sissies. "Well, I guess I'm not keeping up with the pulse of the fans because to me it only makes sense."

Some things never change. Gordon is still ahead of the field, ahead of the curve, and the sport is still trying to catch up to him.

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