Dear Tony Stewart,

By the time this is published, I will have watched you race (in person) for the last known time. This being said, it will be an emotional time for not only you, but also for me.

My parents took me to my first NASCAR race when I was only six-weeks-Pold. Since then, I've attended numerous events at multiple tracks, the most recent including the Brickyard 400 (Indianapolis) and the Pennsylvania 400 (Pocono aka the tricky triangle) - scratch that, it got rained out (I still got to do a garage tour and sit in on the drivers meeting though). Being able to sit in on the drivers meeting may have been the coolest thing I've ever done, especially because I was literally two feet away from you when you walked in. In previous years, my family used to go to the race in Dover, Pocono, and Watkins Glen. For as long as I could remember, I used to dress myself in Tony Stewart attire, put on some headphones for the noise, and cheer you on from the grandstands.

My wall is filled with memories that include, but are not limited to, a flag and a poster from when you wheeled the #20. My desk is filled with die-cast cars and cups. I wouldn't have it any other way. I just recently purchased another flag so that I'm not too far behind in the memorabilia. I have a variety of souvenirs from throughout your career, with different numbers and different sponsors.

Every single race that I've seen you compete at will reside in my memory forever. From the time you drove the #20 Home Depot car, to the #14 Office Depot car, to the #14 Mobil 1 Chevrolet, I've always been a fan. Not once did I question whether or not you were still my favorite.

The past couple of years have not been easy for you. You had that awful sprint car accident and broke your leg. The year after that you had the heart wrenching accident that people don't let you live down. The entire time I've been by your side.

Seeing you race for the last time is bittersweet. After 19 years of watching you wheel a sprint cup car around multiple racetracks, it's hard to accept that it's a sight I won't see again. I'll miss seeing you out on the track, but I know that you'll prosper as a team owner. I've watched you grow in this sport so much, and there's still so much growth left after this year.

I wish you the best. I hope that you find happiness and peace in retirement. Nineteen years of looking up to you has been fantastic, but it was definitely not enough time. Thank you for the past 19 years, it's been truly fantastic. Thank you for being an inspiration to me (when I started go kart racing, you were still #20 so that was my number). Thank you for 19 years of memories with my family.

Always a racer. Forever a champion.

Thanks for the memories, smoke.

Sincerely,

A fan who would have been lost without you