Rowdy finds humility after out-racing Martin
BRISTOL, Tenn. – Life might as well have DVR'd over the first 496 laps of Saturday night's Sharpie 500 at Bristol Motor Speedway, because the final four frenzied spins delivered the very thing that can convince 160,000 people to sit on ergonomically murderous metallic bleachers for three hours and leave with permagrins anyway.
A hero, a villain and one minute of downright furious racing.
When the green flag dropped and Mark Martin and Kyle Busch simultaneously crashed their accelerators, the lights above the track seemed to ignore the other 34 cars still on the track. What more could Bristol give? The 50-year-old Martin, classy as ever, running his 1,000th NASCAR race and still gunning for his first championship. The 24-year-old Busch, obnoxious as ever, glad to wear the black sheath and stave off the white knight's charge. Side by side, separated by inches and coats of paint, the race anyone's to win.
And Busch did, in the closest finish at the night race since it implemented electronic scoring, by .098 seconds. He allowed Martin a lane to race side by side on the final lap and prevailed still. Busch celebrated with two bows amid what felt like 2 million boos. NASCAR fans are parochial. They do not agree on much. Except that Kyle Busch is a horse's ass.
They concurred, too, that Martin deserved their attention and affection, that his season – four victories and a dozen top 10 finishes – is brilliant for any racer and incredible for a quinquagenarian. Martin is essentially who they want Busch to be: a man who matches talent with humility.
Of course, Martin doesn't mistake Busch for a villain just as Busch doesn't recognize Martin as a hero. They see each other for what they are: race car drivers, and passionate ones, whose common goal happens to pit them in those very roles.
"It really is no different if I was the hero or the villain," Busch said, and his words came off as sincere, which, for Kyle Busch, is something of a first.
Fans' assessment of Busch isn't based solely on his success, as much of the hatred of Jeff Gordon was, or his prickly demeanor, which itself can create an anti-hero effect. Busch ignores the rules, and whether it was spinning out a race-leading Dale Earnhardt Jr. with three laps left at Richmond last year or antagonistically bumping Carl Edwards following his victory here last year, he didn't just toss some tinder in the fire. Busch doused it with gasoline.
Certainly the winning stoked it more. In a 19-race span last year, Busch celebrated eight victories and led the Sprint Cup points race. He blew up in the circuit's playoffs, and the inconsistency carried over to this season, where despite tying Martin's series-high four wins Saturday night, he still finds himself in 13th place, one spot outside of the Chase.
How the two winningest drivers' postseason fortunes can be tenuous just two races before the Chase is one of NASCAR's great bungles, though neither driver seemed altogether concerned by the time the crowd filed out to stalled traffic. Busch and Martin had charged down the tiny straightaways and around the 26-degree banks together, enough respect between the two that nudging was unnecessary. Busch wouldn't disregard Martin as he had Tony Stewart at Daytona. Martin wouldn't let the greed of another victory turn into a wreck that spoiled both their nights and those of the fans.
"If it was so easy, I would've passed him," Martin said. "I was over my head just being there. I almost didn't finish. I was so close to losing control of my car when I got inside of him. If I coulda, I woulda passed him. But I couldn't. And I was also so out of control that if we'd have touched, I'd have wrecked, too."
So as they buzzed down the backstretch, Martin wouldn't pull ahead, couldn't, and Busch grabbed his 16th career win. He passed Jeff Gordon for checkered flags before a racer turns 25, and Busch has another 20 or so races to add to that tally. He will.
Because Martin is right: Busch is a great racer, aggressive, smart, tenacious, enough of an instigator that it works in his favor and not so much that it isolates those surrounding him. Joe Gibbs acquiesces to Busch's general immaturity – his snarling rants, his sarcastic blathering, his behavior that led Brian Vickers on Friday to call him, not incorrectly, "miserable" – since Busch wins and wins a lot for his owner.
"He's kind of antagonized his detractors as well, which doesn't help any, either," Martin said. "I don't know why they were so kind to me. Maybe they realize the reason I've been around for 1,000 races is because I love it as much as they do.
"Even though you have to take second sometimes, that grind and that grit and that push and that challenge is way more rewarding than running away."
Perhaps Martin inspired Busch's toned-down sentiment after the race. It was a privilege to race with Martin, he said, and he was glad to see the fans enjoy the action, even if they were against him, and he even tried to give the winning flag to a woman decked out in Busch attire and weeping tears of joy thanks to his win.
The villain seemed so … heroic. It was odd, and the chances of it continuing are slim because, after all, this is Kyle Busch.
Each racer got to pick the music that accompanied his introduction at the track Saturday. Busch chose "Amazing," the song by Kanye West that begins: "It's amazing … I'm the reason … everybody fired up this evening."
Him, yes, and the hero whose heroism couldn't quite save the day, and the final furious minute that left everybody wanting more.
