Losing a hero is indescribable.

As strange as it may seem, it's a very personal loss. We take these people into our hearts and they become a part of who we are. They become part of our personality and how we are known to our friends. Some of us are Gordon fans, some are Wallace fans, a large number of us are Dale Earnhardt fans. I was always a casual follower of the sport until I moved near my uncle in 1991. I became a big fan of the sport that year and became a huge fan of the man that was known as "The Intimidator."

What made him special to me was that as intense as he was on the track, and let there be no doubt...he earned his nickname, he was just as generous off the track. Just as bad as he wanted to win on Sundays, he cared about his friends, family, and other drivers.

I loved the way the man drove. He was up on you and you knew he was going to pass you, end of story. I don't ever recall anyone ever passing number three to take the lead on the last lap of any race. His patented move of passing you the second after you got by him befuddled many a driver. He was one of the main reasons that I, along with a legion of fans, followed this sport. He led this sport from a small southern sport to the fastest growing sport in the United States.

He won championships against the likes of early legends such as Richard Petty and Cale Yarborough, people who helped grow the sport like Bill Elliot and Darrell Waltrip, and the newer generation such as Jeff Gordon. He linked the sport from the first live flag to flag coverage of the Daytona 500 to the multi-billion dollar sport it is today. His victory in the 1998 Daytona 500 is still one of the sport's most special moments. The reverence and respect he had was attested to in the long line of people gathered to give him congratulations before he got to Victory Lane in 1998. He had gone from the young, brash upstart who drove too fast and crashed too often to a respected leader of the sport.

Earnhardt had said that during those early years, when criticism was harsh and frequent, it may have not seemed so, but he listened and he learned. He didn't change the go for it driving style, but he learned how to win.

I know there have been a couple, but right now I can't seem to remember a NASCAR race without Dale Earnhardt. It's strange, but no matter where he started, he always seemed, at one point in every race, to be in the top ten. It seemed he was always a factor in every race, even his last.

Dr Jerry Punch of ESPN said today that Earnhardt was known for being selfish on the racetrack, always there to win for himself. While this was completely different off the track to the people who knew him, on the track it was all about winning the race. The strange thing is that for the first time that Dr. Punch could remember, today Dale Earnhardt was being very unselfish. Earnhardt had a car that could have won the race, but instead he acted like a father (to his son) and a brother (to his good friend Michael Waltrip) and kept the other drivers from ever getting close to those two. He gave up his chance of victory so those close to him could battle it out. His initial act of unselfishness, one that allowed his friend to win the sport's greatest race, was also his last.

Make no mistake, NASCAR has lost its Michael Jordan, its Babe Ruth, its Mario Lemieux, and its Walter Payton all rolled into one. He was its leader, its trendsetter, and much of its personality. His presence will be missed in the pits, on the track, and in the hearts of many fans. I will watch the race next week and races for years to come, but I will never forget the Intimidator and how he handled himself on the track and off. You never forget with people like Earnhardt. You never forget about your heroes...

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