Like most kids, Matt Martin does disagree with his father on occassion. Credit: mattmartin.net

Busy Martin still teaching son the family business

Matt Martin learning patience both on the track and off

NEW SMYRNA, Fla. -- Mark Martin and his 14-year-old son, Matt, sit quietly in the back of the No. 66 hauler outside of Turn 4 at New Smyrna Speedway as they wait on the feature event.

Mark, considered one of the more educated Nextel Cup drivers when it comes to current events, occasionally glances at Entertainment Tonight playing on the flat-screen television mounted to the wall.

Matt Martin already is used to dealing with the media. Credit: mattmartin.net

Matt curls up in his chair and pulls a blanket around his neck on a cooler-than-normal Florida night.

It's February 13, less than a week before Mark is scheduled to run his final Daytona 500.

Had last season's farewell tour gone according to plan he'd be spending a lot more nights like this helping his son break into the Limited Late Model series on the same track he made his racing debut 29 years ago.

It didn't.

A series of events that sent Kurt Busch from Roush Racing to Penske Racing South and Jamie McMurray from Ganassi Racing to Roush Racing a year earlier than expected pushed Martin's plans to retire from the No. 6 Cup car at Roush back a season.

Mark, 47, initially was wary of the change, in part because it meant another year of missing nights such as this, in part because he wasn't sure he had the energy to make another run at the championship that remains a void in his resume.

The four-time series runner-up still misses seeing his son race and the quality time shaping Matt's career, but energy has not been a problem.

Mark is fourth in the Cup standings and first in the Truck Series. Things have gone so well that he doubled the number of Truck races he'd scheduled to 14, making this arguable one of his busiest seasons since he broke into NASCAR's premier series in 1981.

Matt understands.

"We usually race at least once a month, sometimes two,'' he says. "I can't really race all the time because I'm always with dad at the track when there's really good races for me to go do. That kind of [stinks].

"But it's real cool seeing him do good. It's good that he's always been loyal to Roush Racing. It's good that he's where he wants to be.''

Even a week such as this, when the Cup and Truck Series are off, the schedule keeps Mark from family time. He spent Tuesday and Wednesday testing at Richmond.

He spent Friday in his hometown of Batesville, Ark., for the grand opening of his new car dealership and museum that will contain the trophies, cars and other memories that have shaped his career.

"I don't know if you saw the movie '8 Degrees,' '' Martin says. "But the guy in there that handled the dogs told someone, 'These are working dogs. And they'll run themselves to death if I let them.'

"And that's a little bit like me. I'm willing to work myself to death to go out at the top of my game. ... So there's a bright side. The other side is, yeah, I had some other plans.''

Times have changed

Mark looks around at the state-of-the-art equipment that his son has at his disposal.

It is a lifetime from the homemade trailer and pickup truck that pulled then-18-year-old Mark's car into New Smyrna for the first time in 1977.

Mark doesn't remember where he finished that night, but he remembers the setup of the car and just about every setup he's had since. He can't help it. That's the way his mind works.

"I was just trying to get experience,'' Mark recalls. "I don't think we did too well that first race, but by the end of speedweeks I was running in the top five.''

Running in the top five isn't the goal for Matt on this night or any in the near future. He is here to learn, not only from his father but from others on the track.

"To be patient,'' says Mark, reminding Matt is more aggressive than he was early in his career.

To make sure of that, Mark brought what he called a middle-of-the-pack car for this race.

"He don't need a great car to learn,'' Mark says. "I've got a really good car back at the shop. If I brought it he probably could have qualified eighth instead of 19th.

"But he would have made the same mistakes in that car, and why waste a good car? I kind of look at this as a Bud Shootout car, one we can afford to play around with.''

Mark smiles, looking at his son who obviously has other thoughts about what's best for him.

"He doesn't agree with me,'' Mark says. "He thinks he's going to win no matter what. But I tell him what we're going to do and he listens.''

This time, Matt smiles.

"He knows more about a racecar than most other people,'' he says. "I have the driver's suit and shoes on, but he's really in control.''

Final preparation

Matt jumps to his feet and begins zipping up his uniform.

The roar of engines from cars leaving the track is a signal that it's time to get ready.

"They're going to give you extra laps to warm up the tires,'' Mark says as he stands eye-to-eye with Matt. "Once they get warm, things will be all right.''

Matt listens better than most sons getting fatherly advice. He knows few are more respected than his father, who was called by many of his peers at Richmond this week the king of driver etiquette.

He also doesn't hesitate to take a dig at his old man, reminding of the time they went head-to-head in quarter midgets.

"I showed him how it's done,'' Matt says with a chuckle.

Mark laughs.

"Those things are a lot harder to drive than I thought they'd be,'' he says.

Matt looks like a miniature version of his father in his tiny driver's suit that is splashed with sponsors such as Coca-Cola. He looks even smaller when he crawls into a specially-designed seat surrounded by 480 horsepower of Ford.

As the crew buckles him down he looks through the front window with his big eyes and winks at his mother.

"I get so nervous,'' Arlene says. "But it's pretty neat that Mark was able to be here for this. He doesn't get many chances to do this once the season starts.''

Mark leans into the window to double-check the safety harnesses and go over final instructions with Matt. As Matt backs the car away from the hauler, Mark goes inside to adjust his radio headset and find a few moments of solitude.

"I get pretty nervous at these things,'' Mark admits. "I'm just like any other dad. I want what's best for my kid. I could be doing the same thing if he was getting ready for a football game. I just wouldn't know what to tell him.''

Show time

The public address announcer begins introducing the starting lineup as Mark and Arlene settle into the wooden stands outside Turns 3 and 4.

"These are our future stars of auto racing,'' he says. "Talk to the guys that run NASCAR and they'll tell you this is where they began. This is what grass-roots racing is all about.''

Matt spins out in front of his parents before the words echo into the darkness. Mark takes a deep breath, spits between the bleachers and talks into the headset, reminding Matt of what he'd told him an hour before about cold tires.

The public address announcer continues.

	Mark Martin celebrates his win earlier this season in a Craftsman Truck Series race at Fontana. Credit: Autostock
	Retirement? Mark Martin in 2006   Cup Busch Truck Starts 7 1 4 Wins 0 0 2 Top-5s 1 0 4 Top-10s 5 0 4

"Speaking of future stars,'' he says. "There's Matt Martin in the No. 66. You may know his dad, who will be racing at Daytona later in the week.''

It's almost 8 p.m. when the green flag drops. That's four hours earlier than the feature race the night before. Mark, who lives only a few miles away, asked the track to run the event earlier.

"Matt's got school tomorrow,'' he says.

One lap into the race Mark's concern about the cold tires becomes reality as the first wreck occurs. Matt isn't involved, but the sheet metal on the right rear side of his car has come loose and is flapping like a flag in a windstorm.

The sheet metal becomes a problem a few laps later when another car attempting to pass pinches Matt's car into the wall.

Mark and Arlene jump to their feet. Assured Matt isn't hurt, they move toward the hauler, realizing the car is too damaged to continue. A large crowd of people, including reigning Cup champion Tony Stewart dressed so warmly he's barely recognizable, follow.

"Well, that didn't last very long,'' Mark says as he takes off his headset.

'Good job, Matt'

While Mark surveys the front-end damages with Stewart, a small boy wearing a red No. 8 Dale Earnhardt Jr. jacket tugs at Matt's uniform.

"Good job, Matt,'' the kid says softly.

Matt pats him on the head the way his dad would a young admirer, accepting defeat as graciously as his father taught him.

By now a television camera is ready for an interview. Even for a 14-year-old, there's not a cool-down time where the media is concerned.

Matt answers all the questions as a large crowd gathers. Stewart, who has become more recognizable since lowering the hood of his sweatshirt, smiles in amazement at the way Matt handles himself.

"Can you imagine the pressure he's under?'' he says, "When I was 14, I was racing go-karts.''

Mark has the look of a proud father. As a competitor, he knows there will be many other nights like this.

"You learn from your mistakes,'' he says. "We didn't embarrass ourselves.''

These are the kind of moments Martin hopes to enjoy more after his Cup career "officially'' ends. Matt looks forward to the day when his father can be at all of his races, like the one after this one in which he finished eighth.

He wishes his father could be around for more days like Monday when they went to the movie Benchwarmers.

"That was awesome,'' he says.

But Matt doesn't begrudge his father's decision to run another Cup season. He takes it as another life lesson in commitment.

"It's important to have commitments,'' Matt says. "If you're not loyal to people they're not going to be loyal to you.''

And since Mark has made this commitment, he hopes to make the most of it.

"It's not the center of my life,'' he says of the career his son hopes to follow. "It's not the center of his. But it has a way of being the center when you're in the middle of it.

"There's lots of things I want to do that I can't, but it won't always be that way.''