“It’s tougher when you get here, and you see your suits hanging in the closet,” Erik Jones said, gutted to miss Dover, the first race he’d ever sat out, sidelined in 2024 after a savage Talladega wreck left him with a fractured vertebra. NASCAR studied his Next Gen car, tweaking safety after drivers like him, Greg Van Alst, and Stewart Friesen—all with broken backs from Talladega—proved the sport’s risks are ever-present.

Racing’s a brutal game, and Mark Martin’s seen its highs and lows up close. Crashes that break bones, careers cut short, and the relentless drive to keep going. Mark Martin’s real legacy isn’t any championship win or trophy at his home. It’s his fans crowning him the best driver never to win a NASCAR Cup championship even edging out Denny Hamlin.

Martin’s not quiet about NASCAR’s evolution either. He’s called out today’s “silent drivers,” frustrated by their muted voices under “corporate pressure.” He wants a throwback to Tony Stewart’s fiery defiance. Stewart, with his helmet-throwing, rival-clashing edge, is Martin’s gold standard for keeping the sport’s soul alive.

Mark Martin, NASCAR Hall of Famer, is gearing up for an emotional return to Madison International Speedway as Grand Marshal for the Joe Shear Classic on May 4, 2025. It’s more than a race, it’s a trip down memory lane. Martin’s heart beats for pavement late models, the foundation of his racing soul. “I love seeing pavement late models, or where my heart is, 100%,” he’s said. Wisconsin fans, who’ve cheered him since the ‘80s, still fuel his fire. His last race there? 1986. But 1980 left the real scar.

That year, a vicious crash at Madison smashed his ankles, nearly derailing his career. He didn’t just bounce back, he roared back, proving doubters wrong. He shared the painful moment on NASCAR’s podcast: “They flew me out on a helicopter from the racetrack to Madison General, and I woke up after the surgery on my ankles, and I found out that Eric and Beth heightened the Olympic figure skaters father was my surgeon… he told me I wouldn’t race again for… so many months… I said I’m gonna race in 30 days… when I went back for my three-week checkup he cut the cast off and he said… stand up and walk out of here… I put a hand clutch in my car… he said no it’ll heal faster without a cast and sent me walking out of there.” Hand clutch rigged, ankles healing, Martin raced in 30 days. That’s him being unbreakable. Madison’s about to feel that spirit again.

That incident would just be one of the few near chances of death Martin had during his time in a car. On one occasion, his car took off into the air before coming landing in the grass. More recently, in 2012, Mark Martin’s #55 car was leading the race when he got tangled up in an incident ahead of him. The resulting spin sent him on to the pit road, slamming into the edge of the barrier. It was a moment of pure relief when Martin emerged from the race. For Martin, it was never about survival. It was about pushing himself to the limit.

Richard Petty put it plain: “Mark’s one of those guys who just gets it done.” In 1990, he swapped stock cars for sports cars and won the Rolex 24 at Daytona, leading 137 laps with a scrappy crew of underdogs. Then there’s 2007, the Daytona 500 that slipped away. He was inches from victory, dueling Kevin Harvick in a photo finish, when Kyle Busch’s spin triggered chaos behind him. Harvick edged him by 0.02 seconds, which was one of NASCAR’s tightest finishes ever.

“If Kyle Busch doesn’t spin, I win,” Martin said years later, the hurt still fresh. No penalty came; the green flag held. That loss, after 23 years chasing the 500, his best shot at 48, only to finish second again. Yet it’s that fight, that refusal to fold, that defines him.

Mark Martin’s Fight for NASCAR’s Soul Hits Hard

Mark Martin’s voice is shaking things up again, and it’s got me feeling all kinds of ways. He’s sounding the alarm about NASCAR’s future, and it’s hitting us right emotionally. He’s not putting it lightly. “I think NASCAR has a real challenge going forward because they have to rely heavily on the TV viewers,” Martin said.

With sponsors like GEICO and Xfinity bailing and a $7.7 billion media deal on the line, NASCAR’s chasing new fans with street races and international gigs like Mexico City. But Martin’s worried it’s leaving old-timers like him behind. “And what appeals to the younger generation is certainly a difference than what appeals to adults… I think we’re actually vital to the success, long-term success of NASCAR,” he added. It’ feels forgotten by the sport we’ve lived for.

He’s not wrong to be scared. “If they can click over and see three green flag checkered with wrecks, they are going to watch that,” he told. NASCAR’s betting big on chaos to hook casual viewers, but at what cost? Martin’s plea is real about not ditching the loyal fans who’ve stuck through thick and thin. This should terrify NASCAR fans because if the sport loses its roots, what’s left?

Madison’s his homecoming, a nod to the racing that made him. But his fight is for all of us who still feel the rumble in their bones. NASCAR, listen to him don’t break our hearts too.