Nobody knew what to expect. But in just his third Cup start, Harvick did the unimaginable—beating Jeff Gordon to the line by inches in an emotional, unforgettable win. As he spun his car in celebration, he thrust three fingers out the window for Dale. The grandstands erupted. Fans sobbed. Even hardened journalists in the media center broke their own rule and cheered. “Every one of us was crying and cheering in that moment,” remembered reporter Marty Smith. “For a brief moment, it gave us, ‘we’re gonna be okay.’”

NASCAR fans like me—we live for the roar, the wrecks, the rivalries. But every so often, a moment comes along that’s bigger than the sport itself, stitching us together like family. Jimmie Johnson, with seven Cup titles under his belt, knows those moments better than most. When he looks back, two stand out: Dale Earnhardt Sr.’s 1998 Daytona 500 win and Kevin Harvick’s 2001 Atlanta miracle. “I don’t know for me… my number one moment… it’s a tie between everyone high-fiving Dale Sr. on pit lane in 1998 or in 2001 when Kevin Harvick won in Atlanta,” Johnson said, his words heavy with awe. These weren’t just races—they were the soul of NASCAR shining through.

Jimmie Johnson enjoys the idea of community-watching

Let’s start with Daytona ’98. Dale Sr.—“The Intimidator”—had conquered everything at that track but the 500. Nineteen times he’d tried, nineteen times fate said no—crashes, blown engines, seconds too slow. Then, on his 20th shot, he did it. That checkered flag waved, and the pit road turned into a love fest. Crews from every team—rivals, underdogs, champs—lined up, hands out, high-fiving Dale as he rolled by.

It wasn’t about points or bragging rights; it was about a man who’d earned it, a legend we all claimed. It gives chills imagining that sea of grease-stained hands, slapping his car like it was theirs too. Johnson nails it: “Those two moments in watching the community of NASCAR come together.” That’s us—rowdy, loyal, one big crew.

Then there’s Atlanta 2001—a gut punch and a hug all at once. Earnhardt’s crash at Daytona that year stole our breath, and left us reeling. Richard Childress, gutted, handed the keys to Dale’s ride—rebadged No. 29—to a rookie named Kevin Harvick. Nobody expected much, not yet. But three races in, Harvick pulled off a stunner.

At Atlanta, he dueled Jeff Gordon to the line, winning by a whisper—inches, maybe less. Spinning donuts, he thrust three fingers out the window for Dale’s No. 3, and the grandstands lost it. Marty Smith, in the press box, saw the mask slip: “I wasn’t there, but I’ve watched that finish a hundred times—those three fingers still wreck me.”

For us fans, these are more than highlights. Dale’s Daytona win was the sport saluting its king; Harvick’s Atlanta run was us picking up the pieces. After all, Harvick replaced Dale Sr. after he passed away in 2001 at the Daytona 500. Johnson gets it—they’re not about trophies, but about heart, about a family that races together and mourns together.

JJ’s Daytona P3 proves luck and grit still rule NASCAR

Daytona’s always been a beast for Jimmie Johnson—seven Cup titles, but that 500 wins dodged him like a stubborn shadow. Kevin Harvick’s blunt take on the Owners’ Exemption Program snub last year—“It left out our own”—stung, leaving out a legend tied with Earnhardt and Petty. Yet, at the 2025 Daytona 500, Johnson punched back, snagging P3 in a finish that had fans like me roaring. “Still got it,” he grinned post-race, voice cracking with unexpected emotion. “This feels incredible.” His best Daytona run since 2013, it was a masterclass in chaos—and a sprinkle of luck.

Harvick, ever the realist, nodded to that magic mix: “Whether it’s luck, perfect execution, or whatever it is, it doesn’t matter. You have to have all those things work together at Daytona.” Johnson’s day started rough—caught in an early wreck—but his crew chief Chad Johnston had a plan. Pitting before Stage 2’s end, they gambled on fuel and track position. It backfired briefly—stuck behind a car on pit road, Johnson dropped to 15th with a lap to go. Then came the madness: leaders wrecked, and Jimmie weaved through like a ghost, landing third behind Byron and Reddick.

Harvick saw echoes of history: “Dale Earnhardt lost a ton of Daytona 500s due to bad luck. In 1990, Derrick Cope’s good luck capitalized on Earnhardt’s tire blowout.” That day, Dale led 155 laps, only to limp aside as Cope stole the crown. For Johnson, 2025 flipped the script—luck finally tipped his way. Now, he’s eyeing more, with Charlotte’s Coca-Cola 600 next. “I would consider a few more [races],” he said, juggling team ownership and a racer’s itch. “It hinges on sponsorship.”

Fans, we’ve got a champ back in the hunt—how many more podiums can he nab?