Sterling Marlin - A County Boy Can Survive

"Sterling is like me-just a plain old country boy,'' says Marlin's crew chief, Lee McCall. "You walk into his hauler and he'll fix you a bologna sandwich. How many other drivers eat bologna sandwiches in their haulers?''

"With Sterling, what you see is what you get,'' says Team Manager Tony Glover. "I've known Sterling since me and him were kids, and he hasn't changed one bit. He don't put on airs.''

NASCAR may have gone rock 'n' roll, but Marlin remains steadfastly country. He counts some of country music's biggest stars among his close friends and once sang (briefly, thankfully) on stage with the legendary George Jones.

"George said he'd promise to never drive a race car if I'd promise never to sing again,'' Sterling laughs.

To understand Sterling you must understand Coo Coo. The son inherited the father's work ethic, tenacity, and determination. Coo Coo never won a Winston Cup point race. He made 165 starts between 1966 and 1980, and his best finishes were a pair of thirds. He was an "independent'' driver, without major sponsorship or backing. That's the way he wanted it.

"I like to be my own boss,'' Coo Coo says. "I never thought the hot dogs (big-bucks drivers) out-raced me. They just out-spent me. I ran them as hard as I could with what I had.''

For years, Sterling seemed destined to share his father's legacy. He ran 278 Winston Cup races over 17 seasons before finally winning. In 1994, he tasted triumph for the first time when he won the Daytona 500. He brought Coo Coo to the Winner's Circle with him. He said the win was for both of them.

"Daddy ran all those races over the years with inferior equipment, and even though he didn't win, he didn't quit,'' Sterling says. "He used to work in the field all day, come in and eat supper so tired he could hardly sit up, then go out and work on his old race car for half the night. Maybe that's where I got my determination or stubbornness or whatever you want to call it. Daddy sure had it.''

The day after his dazzling Daytona victory, Sterling flew home, landing at a regional airport near Columbia. Hundreds of fans were waiting, waving banners, and cheering. A mile-long caravan of cars snaked its way to the courthouse, horns honking and sirens blaring, where city officials were waiting with a "Sterling Marlin Day'' proclamation. The town square was packed with friends, neighbors and out-of-town fans.

A visiting media member, impressed by the huge, boisterous turnout, asked Sterling's wife, Paula, what she thought about it. "It's the biggest thing since Mule Day,'' Paula replied.

Mule Day was a 100-year-old Columbia tradition, in which area farmers went to town to trade and sell mules. In modern days the event has evolved into a festival-type event. Paula's remark was carried nationwide. It would become a buzz-phrase for Sterling; whenever anything important happened, it would be described as "the biggest thing since Mule Day.''

After a brief slump, Marlin came back strong in 2001, and in 2002 set his sights on the championship. He led the standings for 25 consecutive races before slipping to fifth, and was then sidelined by a neck injury with seven races to go. Marlin fractured a neck vertebra in a crash at Kansas Speedway on September 29. Suddenly, a season of promise was over.

Marlin was out in the field driving a Bush Hog (a heavy-duty mower) when he received news about the grim medical report that would terminate his season. He took the stunning news stoically.

"I'm lucky," he says. "With that type of injury I could have been paralyzed for life. It's a tough deal, and I really hate it for our team because all the boys had worked so hard. But we'll be back. I've got several good years left. There'll be other races and other seasons.''