(June 27, 1997)
He has everything going for him: good looks, gobs of money in the bank, a beautiful and savvy wife, superstar status, oodles of admirers.  He is mature beyond his years, almost always saying the right thing at the right time. He's so down-home and humble and perfect in so many eyes, in fact, that they've plastered his likeness on billboard advertisements for soft drinks, a kids magazine and milk. And he goes to church on Sunday, race or no race.

   Jeff Gordon. He's the too-good-to-be-true stock-car racer, young and ambitious and _ ahem _ booed lustily from the Carolinas to just about wherever else the NASCAR Winston Cup Series tour takes him.
They boo his feats and cheer his boo-boos, such as when he was tapped by Jimmy Spencer and spun in traffic at Martinsville in April. Most in the crowd roared, then booed the kid after he won the race.
When Gordon overshot his pit during qualifying for The Winston in May, the Charlotte crowd cheered. They booed the next week when he won the Busch Pole and the Coca-Cola 600.
The next week at Dover, fans cheered when his car was damaged after he plowed into the rear of Dale Jarrett's car. Gordon eventually finished 26th. He was cheered after a practice crash at Michigan last week, then booed during driver introductions on race day.
But even the boos he takes in stride. Not to criticize, he says, because everybody has an opinion, everybody has a favorite, and he's learning to live with the boo birds who give him an earful just about every time he is introduced to the track faithful.
Why so? Oh, for several reasons, foremost being that he steals the thunder of long-established heroes who for so long have dominated the NASCAR Winston Cup Series tour: Dale Earnhardt, Rusty Wallace and Bill Elliott.
"It actually started a little bit last year," Gordon says. "When you win 10 races in a season, that's quite a bit. And this year we're already off to six wins. I think it started last year after we'd won seven or eight races. There are some fans who think you're just not supposed to do that.
"It doesn't bother me because I know we're doing the things we want to accomplish. If that's what comes along with it, then it's almost like an incentive for me to get more boos. That means we're doing something good for our team."
While his detractors keep waiting for Gentleman Jeff to shove a foot in his mouth or shove an old war horse over the wall, he doesn't. He just keeps rolling along, winning and smiling and waving.
Two weeks ago at Michigan, Gordon was nowhere to be found on the track during qualifying. A novice had crashed, and there was a lull. The bulk of the crowd, which nearly filled the main grandstand, began to chant:
"Gordon sucks. Gordon sucks."
But he says that he has never been punched and that he has never thrown a rounder, even back in his midget and sprint car days. Although the boos now rain down, he's not about to change his ways.
"I've heard some pretty foul language," Gordon says. "People call me names and stuff, but again, I don't take it to heart, personally. I laugh about it and say, 'Hey, these race fans are loyal, and that's the way it is.' I've learned to accept it and try to understand it."
It's a rare stop where Wonder Boy is not hooted. Seven victories this season and 10 in 1996 add up to 17 wins in the last 47 races. He has a driving title in the book and, overall, 25 victories and earnings of more than $12 million, all in fewer than five full-time seasons. And he's not yet 26 years old.
Which is part of the boo-bird problem.
When the fans razz Gordon in introductions before races, other drivers gape at each other, giggle and shake their heads. But they, too, would like to pay such a price for success.
"If I knew I had done something wrong, something bad, and I got booed, then it would bother me a lot more," Gordon says. "But by just going out there and racing and winning races, it really doesn't affect me.
"I think everybody likes a winner. but nobody likes for somebody to win more than they think they should. I've got a lot of fans out there who are cheering. But everybody pulls for their driver, their car, their team. They want their guy to win.
"And, in a way, they want me to lose because I've been the one winning the races here lately."
Gordon is not the first, and he won't be the last, to be booed because he is a cut above the rest. But for many big winners of the past, it has taken more than success to spark outpourings of displeasure.
For example, some fans boo Jimmy Spencer because he has a knack for finding trouble on the race track and more than once has displayed a volatile temper after the checkered flag has waved.
Then there's Ernie Irvan, dubbed "Swervin"' after he pleaded blameless for a run-in with Kyle Petty at Talladega in which Petty suffered a broken leg a few years ago. For months afterward Irvan was roundly booed, even after he apologized for his actions _ and his words _ in a drivers' meeting.
Perhaps no driver in NASCAR Cup history has been blasted with more boos, cursed as much, threatened as much, as Darrell Waltrip. Although today he's one of the sport's most respected -- if not successful -- drivers, DW caught it because of what he did -- such as ramming Cale Yarborough at Darlington -- and because of what he said, which was just about anything that came to mind.
Waltrip won 12 races in back-to-back seasons, 1981 and 1982, while driving for Junior Johnson. Except at Johnson's home track, North Wilkesboro Speedway, he was the devil defined.
"When I was in (Gordon's) position in the '80s," Waltrip says, "the problem I had was that I was a smart aleck. I wanted to be cute all the time. I was always saying something to tick somebody off. That was my nature.
"But I enjoyed it. I liked being in trouble. It set me away from the rest of the crowd. So I deserved what I got.
"But here's a kid (Gordon) who doesn't deserve to be booed. He deserves to be cheered and appreciated, and I for one cheer him and appreciate him."
Exactly what, Waltrip asks, has Gordon done to deserve such treatment? His theory, he says, is the kid is too good for his own good.
"Everybody's scared of Jeff Gordon," Waltrip says. "The competition is scared of him. Dale Earnhardt is scared to death of him because he's going to win more championships and more races than he did, and more money."
Waltrip describes Gordon as a young man about whom "somebody is writing a script, and he has wings; he's like an angel. Do you know anything bad about Jeff Gordon? I don't know of anything. He's too good for his own good.
"When I was booed so much, I was beating all the old favorites, and I think it's the same thing now.
"When you have people who have dominated a sport for 10, 15 years -- the Earnhardts, the Elliotts, the Waltrips, the Wallaces -- and someone new shows up and they're young and they have everything in the world going for them, it's obvious they're going to put an end to what you've become very accustomed to seeing, and that's (seeing) your hero win."
Some drivers, notably Richard Petty and Bill Elliott, have escaped the boo birds.
Petty rarely was involved in on-track scraps, and he catered more than any other driver to fans. Elliott, almost perennially voted the sport's most popular driver by fans, has taken licks without retaliation and has been forever soft-spoken.
Then there's the Intimidator, of course. Even today the biggest ovations are reserved for Earnhardt, because he has been around, because he has been a big-time winner and because he's the world's best at making the world believe he's right when, after a scrap, he says, "Wasn't intentional. That's just racing."
Like Gordon, Earnhardt can take it and go on.
"I remember riding around in a convertible with Earnhardt in '93 or '94 during driver introductions and hearing the boos for him," Gordon recalls. "He had just come off a championship and won five or six races the year before. It was like they didn't want him to win another championship.
"During that ride he looked at me, smiled, grinned and said, 'Hey, as long as they're making noise.' And it's true. I'd much rather people make loud noise, no matter what it is, than to introduce me and nobody clapped, cheered or booed."