NASCAR’s Gatekeeper: There Will Never Be Another Driver Quite Like Kyle Busch
Since Kyle Busch’s passing, there have been so many career retrospectives, so many articles citing his greatness, hundreds of wins, championships. That’s fair, he truly is one of the greatest drivers ever to get behind the wheel of a NASCAR stock car. But his legacy is so much more than just his statistics. There has never been and will never, ever be another driver like Kyle Busch.
Kyle came in with a chip on his shoulder at a young age. His brother, Kurt was already winning races at the top level of the sport, getting flipped off by Dale Earnhardt Sr, before Kyle was even allowed to drive in the national series. The moment he made it to the big stage, those numbers, the accolades came quick. Youngest pole sitter. Youngest chase contender. First driver to win in a Toyota, first driver to bring Toyota a championship. This article would never end if we kept listing this, so that’s not the focus.
He never did shake that chip on his shoulder. In the truck series he had run ins with veterans, in 2011, even when he was long established as a top series competitor, he wrecked Ron Hornaday Jr. under caution. Busch was parked for that, but Hornaday, at that point the winningest driver in Truck Series history, would never win another race, and Busch would easily eclipse his win total with 69. Nice.
That was the kind of racer Kyle Busch was. He demanded the best from everyone, he’s out there doing incredible things in a race car, and everyone else is simply in his way. Move or get moved. Years earlier, in 2008, Busch spun Dale Earnhardt Jr. at Richmond, solidifying himself as NASCAR’s most hated driver.
It was a role he embraced, he’d taunt booing crowds as he celebrated big wins. He’d talk smack. He became so many drivers’ greatest rival, Keselowski straight up called him an ass at Bristol driver intros once. Fist fights with Joey Logano. Kevin Harvick describes his rivalry with Busch as a “war”. Ricky Stenhouse also threw a punch. He even got Jeff Burton heated. He was the guy to push all the right buttons, but he made the people around him better for it. Denny Hamlin, his long time teammate was constantly pushed from inside the organization by Kyle. Hell, one of his last moves on the track was punting John Hunter Nemechek for having the audacity to be near him on the track. KFB (Kyle Fuckin’ Busch) became another nickname, and a way of life.
While he’d rough them up on the track, he also cared about the next generation of drivers. Not just his own kids, but giving guys a shot at Kyle Busch Motorsports. Hell, a quarter of the average Cup Series field once drove for Kyle Busch. Christopher Bell, William Byron, Bubba Wallace, Daniel Suarez, Erik Jones, John Hunter Nemechek, Noah Gragson, Todd Gilliland and others all were regular drivers for KBM. KBM’s legacy lives on as the Spire truck program.
When I think of Kyle in this role, I think of other great developers of talent, we’ve written about Japanese wrestling a ton, but when I think of Kyle going out there, giving guys the equipment and opportunities they need, then trying to beat them into submission every week, it’s like so many great stories in the ring. But it was real. Kyle Busch was out there playing the role of Mayumi Ozaki at 200 miles per hour. He was NASCAR’s gatekeeper. It got so absurd, a bounty was once placed to beat Busch after a string of wins in the Truck series. Oh, and Kyle is a former WWE 24/7 champ.
This drive is something that defined Busch throughout his career, in brightly colored cars, he’d pull these dirty moves, frustrate drivers and fans alike. Early on it was inheriting the iconic Frosted Flakes car from the Iceman, Terry Labonte. You could not have two different drivers – Terry, was consistent, quiet, and cool-headed. A philosophy that scored him two titles. Busch’s next stop was Joe Gibbs Racing, piloting the 18 car, which was previously driven by Terry’s younger brother Bobby, who exemplified the same characteristics of his brother, scoring a championship off consistent performance, and a coolness under pressure fighting off a resurging Dale Earnhardt in the 2000 season. As a Labonte fan, this was a nightmare. I was not a Kyle fan in my younger days and to see him in the 5 and the especially 18 car in its Interstate Batteries livery, was like an insult.
Though, the iconic combo of the 18 car and Busch was Mars coming aboard as a sponsor, specifically with M&M’s. At times, people called him “The Candy Man”; and he tried his best to fit in that role. The partnership was rocky, especially after the aforementioned incident with Ron Hornaday. But Busch did step up and embrace the role. While he was a thorn in the side of everyone who raced and cheered against him, he always went above and beyond showing appreciation for the fans that supported him. Many of them were children because of the bright and recognizable M&M’s car. A good percentage were kids of long-time NASCAR fans who cheered for guys like Dale Jr, Jeff Gordon, and pretty much anyone but Rowdy.
And that made the Busch dynamic even more intriguing. Like Earnhardt before him, he was so polarizing, to the extent where there are many stories where fathers, cheering for an Elliott, would forbid sons to hang posters or wear hats of Dale or Rowdy. But nevertheless, the kids loved Rowdy, and Rowdy showed his appreciation at every opportunity. There are countless videos of Busch taking time with young fans, far beyond the obligations of a meet and greet. Each one was special to him.
It even came across at his race shop. I only visited once, but it was a warm welcome the moment anyone entered that door. They were in the middle of their transition from Toyota to Chevrolet, and hadn’t even announced it yet, but they were willing to chat about the difficulties, and the optimism they had going into the new season, both with the manufacturer switch, and also Kyle in general going to Richard Childress Racing.
The transition to RCR was another interesting chapter in the career of Kyle Busch. Replacing the departing Tyler Reddick, who truly made the relatively new 8 car relevant with his first wins as a driver. Replacing a guy with that impact is tough, but who better than Kyle Busch. After Mars left Joe Gibbs, they couldn’t make a contract extension work, so Busch ended up landing at a place owned by an old rival. To this day, I’m not sure if it was a burying of the hatchet, or a marriage of convenience, Busch was attractive to sponsors, and the 8 car was on an upward trend that they needed to maintain with the abrupt departure of Reddick.
And that’s what Busch did. Rowdy found victory lane pretty quickly in the 8 car, scoring a win in his 2nd start for RCR. Childress has been middle of the pack for quite a while, arguably since the death of Earnhardt in 2001. Occasionally they’d pick up wins or be consistent enough to be a fringe title contender, but even Kevin Harvick had to leave to finally score a championship. So for the two-time Cup champ to step in and win right out of the gate showed that they had something to work with. He’d pick up two more wins on the year and finish the year in 14th, one spot lower than his final season with perennial championship contender Joe Gibbs Racing.
But from there, Busch faded, as did RCR as a whole. Busch would fall to 20th and then outside the top 20 in the next two years. You could hear his frustration on the radio during races. 2026 seemed like an even worse year was brewing. But in Texas, he ran near the front and even though he was frustrated and took out Nemechek, there was some life in the team. He’d score his first top-10 of the season at Watkins Glen, while feeling ill. And while his cup performances were trending upwards, he rolled into Dover and dominated the field in a Spire Motorsports truck, claiming career win #234 in the top national series, adding onto his impressive record.
A week later, Busch was no longer with us. That illness he experienced at Watkins Glen spiraled, to pneumonia, and then sepsis. It’s both incredible, and heartbreaking to think about what he left behind. One of the greatest NASCAR drivers of all time. A legacy that few drivers could ever compare to. Earnhardt, Johnson, Petty, Pearson, Busch. Maybe Gordon, too. But that’s it. He also left behind a son, a daughter, and his wife Samantha. Samantha’s difficulties bearing children has been a big reason why I started to root for Kyle. A struggle both she and Kyle were so open about, to feel that kind of honesty from a guy who seems so superhuman, especially within a sport like NASCAR was a breath of fresh air.
Brexton is continuing to race, and he has the entire racing world behind him. That’s incredible, but I hope he doesn’t feel pressured to continue. I hope if Brexton continues, he has success, he has so many people cheering for him. Richard Childress already has the 8 reserved for him if he wants it, even if he doesn’t drive for Childress. But the pressure is going to be immense. It’s going to be impossible to follow in his father’s footsteps. Just like Dale Jr. before him, he’ll always be compared to his dad. But there will never be another Dale Earnhardt, just like there will never be another Kyle Busch.
Godspeed, Rowdy.
all photos by Teppen