Old Spice

Tony Stewart is a racer’s racer. If a greyhound, a fighter pilot and a chainsaw sculptor were somehow genetically welded together, reengineered with gasoline and cloned to form a half-carburetor, half-human racing man/machine, Tony would be that man/machine. Tony Stewart was born to race. In other words, if when Tony Stewart was born the doctor told him racing hadn’t been invented yet, he would crawl to the library, teach himself how to read and begin studying how to cryogenically freeze himself long enough for racing to be invented. In 2005, during a race, Tony Stewart got tired and, while taking a nap in the backseat, passed eight cars to clinch the NASCAR Sprint Cup Series championship.

If Tony Stewart were in a presidential race, his campaign bus would be a 50-passenger Camaro and people would vote for him because he would promise to do donuts on the White House lawn. The point is: Tony Stewart is a racer.

In fact, Tony Stewart once raced in the Indianapolis 500 and the Coca-Cola 600 in the same day and then drove home to Indiana so he could watch the race highlights of himself racing, only to fall asleep and dream about losing a 40-yard dash to a puma only to wake up, rent a puma and race it in real life.

What can we say? The guy likes to race.