Kyle Busch was driving down the road when he noticed the woman in the passenger seat next to him was wearing his hat and her reaction is priceless when she realizes
Many have words to say about Kyle Busch. These are mine.
The best way I can describe Kyle is that he was the archetypal badass race car driver. His resume, his reputation, and all of his escapades behind the wheel of a race car illustrated that in spades. There is no one in the past two decades of NASCAR who did more for the theater of stock car racing than Kyle Busch did.
Growing up as a fan, I didn't have any real background in racing to be able to ascertain what makes a driver great. Which is why in retrospect, it's quite notable that I immediately picked up on Kyle being a special talent. Knowing what he had done in Trucks and watching him dominate in ARCA, I picked up on that Kyle was by far and away a superior talent. 200+ wins and multiple championships later, I guess my instincts ended up being correct.
As a fan, I rooted for Kyle, raged at Kyle, and everything in-between. He excited me, made me angry, made me laugh, made me shake my head, made me watch on in awe as he did things that almost no one else but him could do in a race car.
As a professional and a member of the media, I did not have much extensive direct interaction with Kyle outside of media scrums and press conferences. But I had the great privilege of witnessing some of his prouder moments and bigger wins over the past few years, and I respected him immensely. I get the sense that he at least knew my name and who I was - and the least I can hope for is that he respected me as well.
I have the capacity to handle drivers dying in a race car. I also have the capacity to handle drivers dying in plane crashes, car wrecks, and whatever else in a fast machine may lead them to their fates. I have long accepted that those things can happen, and I have the ability to cope in those instances.
I do not have the capacity to so much as comprehend a 41 year old athlete, seemingly healthy and fit as a fiddle, dying of an illness in as abrupt a manner as what was occurred. It defies my ability to accept, much less understand, what has happened. The best way I can describe it is that Kyle Busch being dead, and being dead in this manner, cannot be. It is as if a torch that burned so fiercely and so spectacularly that it became a centerpiece of the entire universe was suddenly snuffed out. It's like Superman dying.
I don't know. I am trying to put things together as best I can. Not only am I in shock, I want answers to at least try as best I can to cope with what has happened. If that's even possible.
I am absolutely heartbroken for the Busch family - for Samantha, for Brexton and Lennix, and for Kurt - as well as the many friends, fans, and others who Kyle made an impact on. I cannot even begin to fathom what it is going to be like at the racetrack this weekend, knowing that everyone including myself not only has to deal with this, but go racing and do what we were meant to do without a care just 24 hours ago. I can only speak for myself - I am going to do my work as a member of the media, and chronicle this moment in NASCAR history, to the best of my abilities. I have to. I have no choice but to take on the responsibility of this, just as others before me had to deal with similar situations.
I cannot bring myself to say anything like Rest In Peace, nor am I fully ready yet to tap into some grandiose Catholic ideas about letting the Lord's will be done and not mine. Where I will leave things at for now is this: So long as I draw breath, I will tell anyone who cares to know that Kyle Busch is one of the greatest race car drivers who ever lived, and one of the best I ever saw in my lifetime.
I’ve called the OReily series “Classic stock car racing” for years now but it does expose an issue for all racing series currently.
Unlike other sports, motorsports is requested to entirely change its product every few years to satisfy OEMs and technological changes.
The question is: Do you continue to change with them, or prepare a platform that can survive in an OEM-less future? Is that 10 years away? 20 years?
Sprint cars, dirt late models etc are essentially this. Are they relevant technologically? No. Do they have a dedicated fan base? Yes.
Then there’s the issue that the current car has a dwindling supply of parts and the manufacturers of those parts are disappearing.
Thus I don’t envy NASCARs situation here. Invest in keeping things as they are by becoming involved in the parts and pieces that are relevant no where else?
Or change with the whims of consumer preference for OEM support? Risking the very product your customers love.
It’s a really tough spot. My heart says, just stay as is. Let the cup series change but keep one for your hardcore fan base.
But I’m not staring at the spreadsheet data.
One last look at Earth before we reach the Moon.
This view of the Earth was captured on April 5, the fourth day of the Artemis II mission, from inside the Orion spacecraft. The four astronauts will reach their closest approach of the Moon tomorrow, April 6.
This is the most wild start to an NFL season of all time. First play of the game, one player is carted off, the other ejected. I mean everyone knows you don’t spit, you swallow obvi
Watch the WWII flying boat the Philippine Mars soar over the Golden Gate Bridge. The 80-year-old plane -- which lands and takes off from water -- made an 800-mile journey to the Bay Area from British Colombia. It will retire at the Pima Air and Space Museum in Tucson, Arizona.
In 1986, a young comedian walked off stage at Yuk Yuk's Comedy Club and vowed never to perform again.
That same year, he was diagnosed with cancer.
His name was Norm Macdonald, and his story would change comedy forever.
Here's what happened: