By Mark Davis
A giant billboard near Daytona International Speedway pretty much sums up what Dale Earnhardt Jr’s brief big-league career has been about – beer, babes and racin’.

And his new book is a spittin’ image of that career. It’s filled with episodes of thrilling wins, frustrating defeats, drinking binges, rough language and flirtations with voluptuous young women. What more could you ask for from one of the biggest stars in NASCAR and the son of the late Dale Earnhardt, aka "The Intimidator"?

"Driver #8" has the feel of an autobiography without all of the overt sentimentality and shocking revelations that are often found in the genre. Sure, "Little E" pauses to reflect about adjusting to the Winston Cup circuit and life as a young man thrust almost overnight into celebritydom. He doesn’t cut corners in expressing the ups and downs of being a big-time auto racer.

However, what gives the book horsepower is its focus – the 2000 Winston Cup year. It was Earnhardt’s rookie season, and he gives a blow-by-blow account of the entire campaign, from the Daytona 500 in February to Atlanta in November. It includes a lot of behind-the-scenes material that should give fans a wild perspective of the booming sport.

He and co-author Jade Gurss, his publicist, don’t stray much from this course. Fans who want an introspection of Junior’s childhood will be disappointed. Don’t bank on dirty laundry to be aired for all to see.

He does write a little about his father and his tragic death on the final turn of the final lap of the first race of the 21^st century (last year’s Daytona 500). As Earnhardt says, "this book is not my life story, or about my life with my dad (Maybe I’ll write those books in the coming years.)."

While reading "Driver #8," I got the impression Earnhardt is somewhat of a reluctant superstar, an ordinary Joe who kinda fell into the high-pressure, high-reward world of NASCAR. He recounts that in his younger days, he got an automotive degree from a community college in North Carolina (his home state) and went to work at his father’s Chevrolet dealership. He said hewas the fastest oil-change man they had.

"I really enjoyed it, and I had a clear idea that this was a much more realistic career path than driving a race car," he writes. "I saw myself working my way up the ladder through the service department and having a good life."

My jaw dropped when I read that. I found it hard to believe that a young man with the revered name of Earnhardt would be satisfied working at a smelly car shop installing new oil filters for the automotive illiterates of the world. Fortunately, he "found" his way into racing, and soon rocketed to success.

There are a lot of interesting gems in Earnhardt’s account, despite all of the thinly veiled plugs for his chief sponsor and overlord, Budweiser.

 Mark Davis is books editor of the Daytona Beach News-Journal