So what a relief that Force’s injuries — though career-threatening — were not as horrific as the strange accident which tore his car in half. The sight of his bare feet in the front window of a medical evacuation helicopter was comic relief, so to speak. And, of course, we’re told Force was talking, directing and asking, “Did I win?”

Perhaps the greatest tribute to Force’s influence on the NHRA comes after each round in the pro classes. Almost to a man, the guys on the winning side imitate his rapid-fire delivery with upbeat appraisals and catch phrases. But nobody can quite match the barrel-throated, wide-grinned rap of Force himself. He’s the ultimate funny car driver.

The man will play anything for laughs, and gets away with it because everybody knows he’s serious about going faster and winning. He once continued to wear a heavily singed firesuit that had been burned in a flaming wreck he was lucky to escape until the suit about fell apart. It was his take on “Elvis is dead and I don’t look so good myself.”

We all watch motor racing, in part, because it’s dangerous. And what could be more dangerous than being hunkered underneath full bodywork and straddling a monstrous, nitro-burning, super-blown V-8?

Oftentimes after a winning pass, it’s not so much Force’s humor after he climbs out as a delivery based on runaway enthusiasm. It’s impossible to watch without feeling caught up in a giant energy field, perhaps even alloyed to greatness.

Drag racing is the ultimate expression of the people’s motor sport, a subculture even within racing relatively devoid of pretense and dedicated to pure speed. Force represents the ultimate people’s champion. The fans see him as one of them and vice versa without the messyness of NASCAR’s huge success or the solitary knighthood of open-wheel racing.

The first time I met Force, the day’s qualifying at the Atlanta Dragway was over. He walked into the media room that overlooks the drag strip unannounced, wearing blue jeans and a Castrol shirt, carrying a glass of whiskey on the rocks. John sat down in one of the chairs at the back of the room and fielded whatever questions came up. It was more like a clubhouse meeting among friends than an interview.

Eventually, somebody asked if he had seen any good movies lately? Force started talking about how much he liked the movie “Tombstone” and the role of Doc Holliday played by Val Kilmer. “I’ll be your huckleberry,” he said with a laugh, repeating the character’s odd, but effective psychological ploy used in gunfights.

It was a reminder how much all drag racers live for one-on-one duels. Not much imagination was needed to think Force may have recognized himself in the character played by Kilmer. With so much on the line, how do you beat such a nutty character who’s so damn fast?

The men and women in drag racing have to be tougher than chrome moly steel, because there’s nowhere to hide from errors, defeat or worse, the oddball crash scenario. Force is no different in his stone-hard courage. Beyond his humor and broadcast-strength enthusiasm, what sets him apart is the ability to remain one of the regular guys when he’s not testing himself against the mountain.

I’ll leave it to others to dissect the problem of a car breaking in half due to a blown tire. But I will suggest the eerie prospect that the effort Force’s team put into safety after the tragic testing accident of Eric Medlen earlier this year may have come into play. Whether that’s for good or not from a technical and safety perspective remains to be seen.

It’s undeniably good that Force has a strong team, a daughter who has followed his career choice effectively and that John can be expected back at the track in full voice as a team owner if not driver.

It’s a voice that defines a racing generation.

Jonathan Ingram can be reached at jonathan@jingrambooks.com.