Kyle Busch had the racing spirit of Dale Earnhardt Sr., and he forever will
“Back in 1998, that would be the win, boys!”
We might have to lean in, but we can hear it. It’s Kyle Busch. His voice crackles over the radio. He’s joking with his No. 8 team as he watches a yellow blur wave from the flag-stand. It’s the 2023 Daytona 500. Three laps left. Caution’s out. And Busch, the one-precocious-then-dominant-and-now-so-called-aging-giant of NASCAR, is laughing through his frustration.
He’s never won the Daytona 500. Not yet, anyway. In 1998, Dale Earnhardt Sr., the driver Busch is endlessly compared to, won his first Great American Race in this very way, under caution, after so very long. Rules were different then. Now, Busch has to find another way. Overtime’s up next. The proverbial weight of being the best driver to never win the sport’s ultimate crown jewel, for now, is still on his back.
Back in 1998 ...
We know what Busch is thinking right now, on this backstretch, in the lead with his teammate Austin Dillon right behind him. He’s wondering aloud if he’s been robbed of his Earnhardt moment. For Earnhardt, after all, it took him 20 tries to win a Daytona 500; Busch, right now, is racing in his 19th, and he’s so close.
The rest of are shaking our heads. Or maybe our fists. Or maybe both. But we’re watching nonetheless, holding our collective breath, wondering what will happen next.
Back in 1998 ...
In three years and several months, our heads and hearts will drop. It’ll be a Thursday evening, a few days before the annual Coca-Cola 600 at Charlotte Motor Speedway, when we hear the unthinkable news that Busch had died from an undisclosed illness that a few hours before had put him in the hospital. We’ll hear stories about how the 41-year-old was racing in Durham two days prior, and that three days prior he was singing to his 11-year-old son, Brexton, who was blowing out the candles on his birthday cake.
We’ll remember him for all his racing accomplishments — a steady rush will come: We’ll be reminded that he was the youngest driver to win a Cup Series race. That he was so good that he changed not one but two NASCAR rules to keep his dominance from reigning everywhere. That he won 63 Cup Series races, ninth-most all-time; that he went 19 consecutive seasons with a Cup win, most all-time; that he won 234 NASCAR races across all three national series, most all-time; that he won two Cup Series championships — one even in that cursed 2015 season, somehow, after breaking his leg before that year’s first race.
But most of all, we’ll remember him for his spirit. For the fact that we watched him grow up in front of us and changed from a talented kid into a brash but undeniable champion.
Back in 1998 ...
In fact, if we really boil down his legacy, we’ll remember him for being this generation’s Earnhardt. We’ll lay out the parallels between him and Big E and find them astounding. Like the fact that Busch was the sport’s villain for so long. That he wrecked people up and down pit road, and that people hunted him down and threw fists at him because of it. That some fans loved him, that most fans booed him, that all fans respected him.
We’ll remember that right when he needed help — when his sponsor exited the sport and Busch was then left without a home — Richard Childress came and offered him a ride. Childress was Earnhardt’s close friend and car owner. Childress was a long-perceived enemy of Busch because of a 2011 skirmish — but when he got Busch to sign a contract, Childress told everyone listening: “I looked at him in his eye, and I’d seen that same look in Dale Earnhardt Sr.’s eye.” The crowd gasped. “He’s hungry. And we’re going to win. I’ve seen that look before.”
We’ll see Busch fall out of favor with several drivers, including Dale Earnhardt Jr., only to repair the scars. We’ll read Dale Jr.’s testimony online on that Thursday — a testimony that is candid about their “really challenging existence for many years” but that is also forthcoming about how Busch instigated a way to figure out their differences. We’ll then read something from Dale Jr. so powerful, so true, that if you let your heart go there, you can see that it applies to Busch and Dale Jr.’s father alike: “I will never be able to make sense of this loss,” he’ll write, “but I am thankful that we had found a way to become friends.”
Back in 1998 ...
But all that is still so far away. It’s time to finish the 2023 Daytona 500. It’s overtime, after all. Two laps til forever. Busch leads off the restart. He gets a nice shove on the inside lane. The outside gets momentum. He falls back to fourth. Then comes another wreck he narrowly avoids. Another caution. Another overtime restart. Then, at long last, a shot on the outside! A firm push! Could it be?! The white flag! One last chance!
And then, out of nowhere, a car gets loose and rams into his left-rear quarter panel. Busch isn’t given the chance to race through the start-finish line. He later emerges from the infield care center without knowing who won the race. He couldn’t see through the smoke and carnage.
We ask him how he feels, and he says he’s frustrated with the fact that he didn’t get to finish his race on his own terms. We nod like we understand, even though we never could.
