From one Jr. to another: A special thank you

I got a phone call the other day from a friend. And he begins telling me a story from his trip home from a weekend of hunting in the forests of North Carolina.

He began: "While driving down the winding roads cut through the thick woods, I hit a deer (by accident, of course!) and it stumbled off into the forest. I parked my truck on the side of the road to track it. I was deep in the woods when I heard a car horn back near my truck.

"As I made it back to the road, I see this limo -- in the middle of nowhere! And out hops a suspicious looking dude asking for directions to New York. The dude is clearly nervous and for unknown reasons makes many glances back at the limo like he's signaling someone inside.

"I didn't know what this guy was gonna do, so I just pulled my gun and told him to get back in his car and head the other direction."

As my friend keeps telling this story, my imagination fools me to believe I'm actually speaking to Tom Sawyer. Once his story is finished, I hear that goofy laughter that assures me it's just Little Hank.

Some may call him a modern-day Tom Sawyer, but around here we call Hank Parker Jr. all sorts of things -- many that can't be printed.

First off, Hank and I have been friends for years, way before he ever got the nerve to drive racecars. Second, he's probably one of the most impressionable personalities in the sport.

I met Hank Jr. on a hunting trip with my father. For a few years, Hank and I would see each other, but it was a while before we got to be good friends. At first, I was better friends with his brothers, Bill and Ben. Those two and I were getting into trouble on the weekends while Hank was off with his girlfriend.

Hank and I have always had different outlooks on life. I can't say that I could explain either one of them, but Hank is really into the outdoors, while I can take it or leave it.

One day at the shop, my father told me that Hank Sr. wanted to buy my street stock for lil' Hank. This was good news, 'cause I always thought Hank was cool, and if he was gonna race we might get to hang out more often.

So we sold him the car and it wasn't long before I was driving in the Busch Series and Hank was getting offers to join me there. I tried to help him on the racetrack. I couldn't think of anyone else I would rather be banging doors with than my buddy Hank. I always thought he was a great driver with in-depth knowledge and unlimited ability.

Before long, me and Hank were swapping set-ups at the track and club hoppin' during the week. We spent two years doing that, one week after the next. When ever I threw a bash at the house, Hank was always the life of the party. When we went to the clubs, no one had a better time than him.

We spent a lot of time racing on computers, critiquing our driving skills and patience. Anytime he had a career decision to make, he would call me for some advice. He only took it half the time, but what the hell do I know.

Well, since then a lot has changed as it always does. Ol' Hank is gonna get married. It's really no surprise, since I joked with him all the time about it happening. I tried my hardest to make him feel like a deserter. To be honest though, this girl's one hell of a catch, almost like a female version of Hank. Weird, but true.

Even though we still look at the world in different ways, Hank and I still find time to chill out together, just not as often as before. Hank Jr.'s always been the one that's too busy to hang out, but he still calls me after every win. I get a lot of credit for being 'real,' but this guy takes the cake in that category.

Congratulations on finding your bride Hank, and thanks for being my friend.

Still single and loving it,

Dale Earnhardt Jr.