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It was easy to dislike Kyle Busch. He was brash, periodically rude, and occasionally even childish. He was a grudge-holder, and his terms for doing so weren’t always equitable.
But more than that, if you competed against him, it was easy to dislike him because almost all the time, he was nearly impossible to beat. NASCAR has lost its greatest wheelman since at least Tony Stewart, and maybe even David Pearson. Race in and race out, he knew exactly how to get the most out of his equipment, and if it wasn’t there, no one in the sport’s history was better at talking to his crew chief about what to do. The frequent technical granularity in what he had to say made everyone else on the track sound like a grade-schooler.
He spent most of his Cup career and had his greatest successes in a Toyota with Joe Gibbs Racing. He moved to a Chevrolet with Richard Childress Racing in 2023 and had a decent first year, but a tough next couple. There were flashes of the old Kyle Busch this year, and renewed optimism that he was pulling out of his slump.
I had been pulling for him lately. Maturation, perhaps fueled partially by humility at his off-peak form but I think more prominently by him fully embracing and accepting the mantles of both fatherhood and social responsibility, had made him a more likable and relatable man. I was eagerly anticipating his next win.
Instead, he left us. God be with his family and friends. RIP, Rowdy.