NASCAR Nationwide Series points leader Kyle Busch spins after making contact with Chase Austin on Lap 52. (Photo Credit: John Harrelson/Getty Images)
Last night’s Nationwide race at Bristol was one of those moments when The Driver Most Fans Love To Hate fell victim to not his own penchant for excessive on-track aggression or hyper-active emotion sending his senses packing, but someone else’s flub. It happens. It’s called racing, where the best car and driver can have the perfect day (or night) go awry through circumstances utterly out of their control.
Busch and Kevin Harvick were having a nice battle for the lead, Busch hugging the outside groove which ever since NASCAR’s oval pinball machine was resurfaced with a parabolic motif has been the preferred method for getting around the place, when coming off the corner Busch found himself being smacked not by Harvick on the inside but rather Chase Austin on the outside. Austin, who had been hugging the wall courtesy of a tire going down, finally succumbed to the law of gravity and went down himself. Down on the track, that is. No one’s fault, but the resulting mess was… well, a mess. There wasn’t enough NOS Energy Drink in all of Thunder Valley to get Busch’s battered ride working properly again, though he did eventually re-emerge to make some laps.
As the ripped and ruined #18 turned into the infield, the only possible sound louder than forty-three cars doing the spin cycle inside the Tennessee Colosseum roared forth as the assembled throng celebrated the aforementioned Driver Most Fans Love To Hate’s ill fortune. It’s a sound that occurs from coast to coast whenever baby Busch has an accident regardless of the cause. Apparently the NASCAR Nation never got the MSM memo about why they’re supposed to wuvvy wuv Shrubby Shrub to itsy bitsy pieces. Ingrates.
That said, cheering whenever anyone wrecks regardless of who they are is lame in the extreme. Forget how many times you’ve heard “you know, they could be hurt or worse out there.” It’s not a cliche. It’s cold, final truth, as anyone who’s ever visited the grave of a driver who died in an accident can testify. Sure, you want to see a driver who for whatever reason you detest lose. But let it be on a last-lap thriller of a pass by a fellow competitor. Far, far more satisfying. And less vulgar.
To Busch’s credit, after giving himself a ten minute time out immediately following the wreck he faced the media, placing blame for the wreck where from the available evidence (he was unaware of Austin’s tire problem) it belonged, namely the spotter. The interview was minus the sulking whine that has oft permeated Busch’s post-incident conversations, although it is more accurate to say those conversations when he’s actually had one instead of storming off in a snit. Perhaps he’s actually getting that clue seldom thought of as being in his game room. It’ll still take him simultaneously saving puppies and kitties from a burning house and paying the mortgage on the orphanage seconds before Snidely Sinister forecloses on same in the middle of a snowstorm while helping a little old lady across the street to make him actually likeable. But it’s a start.
As far as the rest of the race was concerned, David Ragan, who had entered this year touted as the driver most likely to break through but instead has been but a blip on the radar finally won one, leading the final fifth plus. Teammate Carl Edwards finished second, thus keeping his slim hopes of catching Busch for the series title alive for another week. Brad Keselowski came in third.
