It was meant to be a joke, like calling a big man "Tiny" or a bald man "Curly." Once after a particularly good run David Reutimann walked into the shop referring to himself as "the Franchise," a nickname he had picked up watching another sport on television. The reaction from his teammates was laughter, exactly the result the always-self-effacing Sprint Cup driver had hoped to achieve. Now, the thing has taken on a life of its own. The television networks, always quick to act like an appendage of the garage area, have eaten it up. At Martinsville the moniker replaced Reutimann's name over the window opening of his No. 00 race car, and even a security guard greeted him as such last Thursday at Texas.

“

There's always somebody that's going to come along that maybe can do it better and maybe can do it faster and maybe do a better job. That's kind of what drives me.

”

DAVID REUTIMANN

Reutimann's once-private joke has gone public, something the 39-year-old driver for Michael Waltrip Racing is both flattered by and careful of at the same time.

"I'm not the face of Michael Waltrip Racing. Michael Waltrip is," he said last week at Texas Motor Speedway. "I'm just a guy Michael Waltrip gave an opportunity to. I'm trying to do a good job for him, because he put a lot of faith in me. He put a guy in a Cup car that nobody knew anything about, most times couldn't say my last name correctly, and just let me go with it. He gave me the freedom to screw up with it, and I did plenty of that. When I was down he picked me back up and kept giving me opportunities. In the end, I work for Michael Waltrip Racing and drive for Michael Waltrip. He's the face of our company. I'm just an employee."

Still, "the Franchise" sticks. It's funny in an ironic sort of way, given that Reutimann is as humble a fellow as there is piloting stock cars on NASCAR's premier series, a guy who's made a long climb up from the regional touring ranks and remembers where he came from, perhaps the only Chase-contending Sprint Cup driver who can walk relatively unmolested through the garage area once he's changed into jeans and a T-shirt. He really is the last person you'd expect to see tooting his own horn, much less associating himself with publicity hounds like Cincinnati Reds second baseman Brandon Phillips or former Houston Rockets guard Steve Francis, athletes who applied the "Franchise" tag to themselves -- and meant it.

So yes, it's a joke. But it might not be a joke for much longer. Because efforts like the one Reutimann turned in Sunday at Texas -- where he started from the pole, lost a lap because of a pit-road error, and clawed his way back to an 11th-place finish -- further reinforce the notion that it's time to recognize him as the real thing, a driver capable of winning races and vying for a playoff berth. He's shown strength on short tracks and intermediate courses, greatly improved his efforts as a qualifier in an age where track position means so much, and posted finishes of 12th or better in five of his seven starts this season. Granted, the year is young. But contenders are already being identified. Drivers like Jimmie Johnson, Dale Earnhardt Jr. and Mark Martin, once deep in the points, are on the march. Any flukes are being weeded out. Anyone left standing can be considered legitimate. (Continued)