Tough-talking Justin Shearer – the virtuoso of velocity, the headmaster of horsepower in the wildly popular Discovery Channel program “Street Outlaws”, who’s known literally to millions worldwide by the handle “Big Chief” – almost giggled.
Unpredictably, he invoked the predictably happy-ever-after plots of the tweeny-bopper sitcom “Full House” in describing how he made peace with the NHRA.
He said he found himself locked in a public battle with the sanctioning body for the past year and a half (he called it “somewhat of a tiff”). Curiously, though, he privately agreed with the NHRA’s commitment to taking drag racing into a safe, controlled environment.
“We were both on the same page even then. It’s just we didn’t know how to communicate it to each other,” Shearer said this past weekend during a visit to Englishtown, New Jersey, where he recorded a public service announcement for the NHRA during the Summernationals. “NHRA is huge, and I think I’m huge . . . It was two giant entities going at it that didn’t know how to communicate.
NHRA is huge, and I think I’m huge . . . It was two giant entities going at it that didn’t know how to communicate.
“That spun out. It spun out so quickly that we couldn’t get it gathered back up,” Shearer said. “Just like driving a car – sometimes you’ve got to pedal it two or three times to get it gathered up and go around the guy. We’ve pedaled a few times with each other and now we’ve got it gathered up and we’re headed to the finish line together. We’re back on the same page.”
The process wasn’t smooth, he indicated: “There were a lot of steps. There were a lot of forward and backward steps. It’s weird how things work.”
He was at a race at Ennis, Texas, and Texas Motorplex President Gabrielle Stevenson told him he needed to reach out to the NHRA.
“Gabrielle said, ‘You need to get your act together.’ ” Shearer said, “She said, ‘I’ve got somebody you need to talk to.’ It was like the ‘Full House’ deal, where two guys in the house are fighting and the little girls would have them meet in the same room at three o’clock. Same thing: They didn’t let us leave until we hugged.
“Sometimes it just takes an interpreter,” he said. “We were just speaking a little different language. That’s all.”
Now they’re speaking safety, NHRA as always, since the day Wally Parks founded the organization in 1951, and Shearer in a pro-NHRA public-service announcement. That has been the first step in making peace.
It was a weird disagreement, really, because I agree that street racing should have consequences. I agree that it’s dangerous. I agree that it’s insane.
Rumors abound that he might compete in a Pro Stock car. At the least, NHRA representatives have been spreading the word on social media that a major announcement is coming. Ask Shearer if he wants to go NHRA drag racing when his TV career wanes, and he’ll say, “I really don’t consider myself as having a TV career at the moment. Right now, I do what I normally do and they film it and put it on television. As far as drag racing goes, I want to drag race for the rest of my life at the highest level possible, and this is where they drag race. I’m out here, checking it out. You never know, you know?”
He does have a Pro Mod car, one he debuted it at the PRI Show at Indianapolis last December in the aftermath of his well-publicized crash while filming for the show.
Shearer said of the car, “It’s close to the same chassis, but mine is nowhere near as advanced or technologically evolved as their [the J&A Service Pro Mod Series] cars are. I’ve got older drivetrain stuff. I’m a wannabe, you know what I mean?”
His personality flickered brightly when he explained about the PRI surprise unveiling: “We had scheduled to have the other car in the Weld booth, anyway, so when I crashed the car, I kind of left them high and dry, and I felt terrible. So I had to get another car ready really quick anyway to film the next season of the show so I could get back to racing, because that’s how I make a living. I had to get a car going really quick. And everything I do, I like to make a big splash. So I wanted to have it ready for PRI and not tell anybody and show up and try to become the center of attention, like always.”
It’s just that someone from my background, from my area, and the things that I’ve done and been, to have opportunities like I have now is just insane.
He said the popularity of “Street Outlaws” is “insane. When I started doing this, I started a website for street racing stuff a long time ago. I figured there’d be 60 people on it because they’re my buddies. That’s about all the people I’ve ever raced with. Next thing you know, it had 60,000, then 600,000, then 6 million in a year. And I’m like, ‘Oh my god, I don’t know what’s going on here.’ Then when we got the TV show it was like you wake up one morning … and you know … people are going after you and chasing after you and making you sign stuff and going crazy for your picture and all that. Most people who have that are actors or they shop for that. We just woke up one morning and the craziness was going on and we’re still poor and we still have no idea what’s happening.
“It’s just that someone from my background, from my area, and the things that I’ve done and been, to have opportunities like I have now is just insane,” he said. “The popularity, it’s really showed me that, you know, I was right my whole life: what I do is freakin’ cool and I’m cool. I’ve always been famous – just nobody else knew it yet.”
His lifestyle today, he said, is “no sleep anywhere – you just go-go-go. And one day hopefully it pays off. That’s what you’ve got to keep telling yourself.”
I think the first time I went to the track, I staged with the back tire on accident and some guy screamed at me and made me feel like an idiot. He called me a dumbass.
His impressions of the NHRA race jarred him a little.
“I like it. A lot of rules. Lot of rules. I’ve got to get the rule part figured out and I’ll be alright,” Shearer said with a sly grin. There’s a lot of rules, and it happens early in the morning. I’ve got to get used to that part of it. Everything else … like the car … I’m used to it.”
Perhaps surprisingly, Shearer never had attended an NHRA event before.
“Topeka is like five or six hours away. The closest thing for me is Ennis, which is like four hours away,” the Oklahoma native said. “As a 16-year-old kid, it was everything I had to drive across town, you know what I mean? It was a road trip just to go to the other side of town. I never got into it.
“I’ve never actually been to an NHRA race or been involved in one. I snuck into a race – last year was my first one ever, in Dallas, but I didn’t get to stay very long.”
Yes, Shearer is brazen, but his cheeky brand grew out of a painfully embarrassing situation.
“The racetrack where I live doesn’t have any NHRA races. It’s got Friday night test ‘n’ tunes. The one time I did go to the track, back then we had a weird track management going on. If you weren’t the guy who races there every weekend – if you’re a 16-year-old kid with a bucket-of-bolts car – they treated you different, yelled at you and all that,” Shearer said.
“I think the first time I went to the track, I staged with the back tire on accident and some guy screamed at me and made me feel like an idiot. He called me a dumbass. And I thought, ‘Well, I don’t need to drive 45 minutes to the track, do all this s—, and get off work early on Friday and everything else if I can go five minutes from my house and race all night. That was the way it started,” he said. “It just evolved from there, and the money and the gambling got bigger. Before you know it, it’s your whole life.”
That ought to teach every track operator and every racetrack employee to treat everyone with kindness. But all that did was stoke Shearer’s desire to be a big name in drag racing. He has become that, and now the NHRA is happy to have the self-made, self-promoted superstar on its side.