TALLADEGA, Ala. – On race weekends in Talladega, campers, motor homes and tents stretch as far as the eye can see. Flags adorn most of them, and virtually every driver has at least one fan somewhere in the vast expanse of the Talladega campgrounds.

But one driver reigns supreme here. Look out over the rolling hillsides and you'll see more green 88s than all other drivers combined. Dale Earnhardt Jr.'s fans call themselves Junior Nation, and Talladega is their undisputed capital. And even though their nation is on shaky footing – hey, whose isn't? – their faith in their faltering hero and idol remains as strong as ever.

You'd think these are dark days for Junior Nation. Their guy has won exactly one race out of the last 130 and is spinning his wheels, both literally and metaphorically. They're suffering the constant mocking and abuse from their fellow race fans. Anytime something goes right for the 88 team, something else seems to go more wrong.

So you could forgive them if their eyes started to wander, enviously eyeing the success that everyone from Jimmie Johnson to Joey freakin' Logano, for heaven's sake, has been enjoying over the last few years. You could forgive them for wondering whether the mojo has run out – whether it's time to accept that the son will never equal the father.

Here's the thing, though – Junior could lose from now until the sun burns out and much of Junior Nation would be right there with him.

"True blue 'til the day I die," said Tammy Langdon of Greenville, Mississippi, pointing without irony to her green Junior T-shirt.

Ask other fans whether they'd consider switching drivers if Junior's losing streak stretched into the triple digits, and most will look at you as if you've asked them to kick their own dog.

Ain't gonna happen – not now, not ever.

What kind of hold does this quiet, slightly awkward 35-year-old have on millions of race fans? How did a guy who often looks like he'd rather be anywhere but in the spotlight end up becoming one of the world's most famous athletes?

It starts, of course, with the name. The Earnhardt story is Shakespeare with banjos – an epic tale of Southern racing royalty and tragedy. Dale Earnhardt Sr. was one of the dominant figures in American sports, and there's nobody – not Junior, not Kyle Busch, not Tony Stewart, nobody – who's living up to that legacy, that charisma, that intimidation. Earnhardt Sr. was a seven-time champion; Junior could win from now until 2015 and still not equal his father's "it" factor.

Is it any wonder, then, that he's emphasizing the "Junior?" It does, after all, adorn his clothing and his race team more than the "Dale" or the "Earnhardt."

Even so, Junior earned the love of a huge swath of NASCAR nation just by climbing into a car. His father's influence is so strong, even eight-plus years after his death, that Junior's fans will stick with him through all the down times. It's as if Junior is part of the family – that underachieving cousin who dropped out of college, say – and you don't turn your back on family.

Indeed, the fact that Junior can't make any headway against a field that's always adding talented drivers – like Logano, Brad Keselowski and Juan Pablo Montoya – only seems to boost his cachet among his fans.

"He's a good ole country boy," said Mike Parker of Linden, Tennessee, who patrolled the Talladega infield with his wife, Janice, both wearing matching forest-green Junior sweatshirts. "I like his personality. He's a lot more down to earth than a lot of guys you see out there."

Some, on the other hand, eye Junior with a little more … hunger, to put it politely. If Junior's ever looking for female companionship, he'll find an army of ladies waiting for him in the Talladega infield. More than one had a range of recommendations for ways to, shall we say, take Junior's mind off his problems.

But everyone's patience has its limits, and both Junior and his armada are reaching the end of theirs.

"I really don't want the year to be over with because I like going to the race track every week and racing, but all year it has been so low," Junior said last week. "The highs have been not very high, and lows have been terribly low, so it's hard to want to get back up and try again the next week when you take such a beating. But I don't know what else to do."

His fans seem equally perplexed. Ask 10 different Junior fans what the 88 team has to do to get back above water, and they'll offer 10 different solutions. Change the crew chief. Keep the crew chief. Change the crew. Get away from racing. Race all winter long. Stick with Rick Hendrick. Jump ship from Hendrick and go to a team where he can be the top dog. And on, and on, and on.

"We sympathize with his problems," said one fan sitting amongst Junior flags and cardboard standups, a fan from Enid Lake, Mississippi, with the improbable name of Michael Jackson. (As he says it, his weary smile indicates that he's heard every joke you could make 50 times before.) "He's had such bad luck you hope that it's going to turn around sometime soon. It has to, doesn't it?"

Which brings us to Talladega. In 15 races here, Junior has five wins, including four in a row from 2001 to 2003, and 11 top 10s. It's one of the last tracks on the circuit where he's among the established masters, and it represents his last hope to salvage anything from this miserable season.

"I don't know that there's one thing he could be doing that he's not already doing," says Ben Rogge of Oskaloosa, Iowa. "It's getting to him. He could really use a win. Not even a win, just a good week where nothing goes too wrong."

This weekend, Junior is adorning his car with the names of 100,000 fans as part of a sponsor promotion. More entered to have their names on the car, but there wasn't enough room, so the overflow spilled onto Earnhardt's pit box.

Clearly the fans are still around, ready to cheer. All they need now is something to cheer about.

Related: Kyle Busch, Dale Earnhardt Jr., Tony Stewart, Juan Pablo Montoya, Jimmie Johnson, Brad Keselowski