By John Willoughby
In Memoriam
Where were you when you found out? How did you feel? What did you say?
I know where I was. Complete shock. I had to pull over and bury myself in phone calls. I know I’m not alone in saying that this is possibly one of the few darkest days of our sport.
The NASCAR community is in the middle of the Coca-Cola 600 weekend with what feels like cinder blocks in our hearts and a hole through our souls. Memorial Day weekend alone is not a celebratory occasion, but there’s undoubtedly a little more added emotional strain in the garage and grandstands.
I have not professionally written NASCAR news or opinion in numerous years following a brief tenure, but I stand with an innumerable amount of industry folk in feeling the need to embrace gathering, remembrance, and love for one another and the fragility of life – it’s a sobering nudge that even the greatest of the great has impermanence.
On Thursday, May 21, Kyle Busch, two-time NASCAR Cup Series Champion, suddenly passed away at the tender age of 41. The family revealed Busch battled severe pneumonia, which complicated into sepsis.
What is truly an incredibly hard pill to swallow is that for the first time in 25 years, there is no longer a Busch in the Cup field. However, his mark on the sport and the bar he set are not lost on anyone and won’t be for a very long time.
With the cancellation of some on-track activities through Friday and early Saturday, the No 8 stands alone atop the scoring pylon at Charlotte Motor Speedway, with a picture of Kyle displayed on the backstretch monitor.
Drivers have canceled appearances, and some have replaced their name plates with “Rowdy.” Others have stuck the No. 8 to the side of their cars in honor of Kyle, though the No. 8 will no longer grace the track – at least until his son Brexton Busch comes along.
Upon his untimely passing, what makes Kyle Busch so special to the sport of Auto Racing? Was he truly bigger than life itself in some ways?
As I wrote this article, I signed in to an editing software and found a copy of one of many NASCAR articles I wrote. Published by Frontstretch.com in July of 2020, I feel honored to have recorded his 59th Craftsman Truck Series victory at Texas Motor Speedway, albeit his legacy goes beyond just that one victory.
It’s evident in his numbers: 234 wins across NASCAR’s top three series (63 alone in Cup) and nearly 48,000 laps led altogether. He recorded Crown Jewel wins to his name in the Southern 500, Coca-Cola 600, and two at the Brickyard, and became the first driver to win at every completed track as of 2018. In 2023, Kyle received the honor of being named one of NASCAR’s 75 Greatest Drivers.
Sure, Kyle was known for dust-ups. A majority of Kyle’s most-watched moments online involve streaming post-race frustrations. If you were to Google, “I’m just here so I don’t get fined,” you wouldn’t just find NFL standout Marshawn Lynch – Kyle Busch would be in there somewhere as well.
The Busch brothers wrecking during the 2007 All-Star Race was a conversation starter at the family Thanksgiving dinner, and Kyle’s notorious 2008 Richmond win wasn’t a favorite among Jr. Nation. You can also find highlights of brawls with Joey Logano and Ricky Stenhouse Jr. on separate occasions.
Ever since his Cup beginnings in 2005 and the eventual climb to the pinnacle status with Joe Gibbs Racing, his hard take-no-bull disposition and passion were a hot point amongst fans and industry members. Comparisons to Dale Earnhardt ran rampant for a while; connections can be made, but Kyle Busch was the greatest Kyle Busch there ever was.
Outside of the race car, he was a husband, father, son, and brother. Kyle had a softer side than what is seen on television and heard on the radio.
NASCAR CEO Steve O’Donnell put it in perspective during a Friday, May 22, press conference.
“Daniel Suarez comes over from Mexico, learning English, learning how to race at the National Series level, struggling,” O’Donnell stated. “[He] received a call every week from Kyle Busch. [He] never talked about it … just ‘How do I make you better? How do I keep things going?”
O’Donnell continued to mention Kyle and Samantha’s charitable organization, Bundle of Joy Fund. “He knew how difficult it was to start a family and wanted to spread that message, and yet had time to be a philanthropist off the track,” He noted.
One in every six people battles infertility. Kyle and his wife, Samantha, were in that statistic until discovering the In Vitro Fertilization (IVF) procedure. Brexton was born via IVF in 2015; their second and youngest, Lennix, was born through surrogacy in 2022.
It takes love, selflessness, and generosity to give, and it’s exactly what the Busch family had. In 2015, Kyle and Samantha founded their aforementioned organization and have thus far awarded over $2.3 million to help families in their infertility struggles. Thanks to Kyle and Samantha’s work, 111 babies have been born into this world.
On the spectating side of the fence, I was extremely fortunate to have watched Kyle compete on nine different occasions at the World Center of Racing in Daytona. I never held the pleasure of meeting him – I was too intimidated, not because I wasn’t a fan. He was larger than life, and I’m not so sure I would’ve had the courage to ask for a picture that would have lasted a lifetime.
None of us knew that when Kyle took his final bow following Dover’s EcoSave 200 that it would be his last, but I am sure of one thing: I will get to share a piece of eternal paradise with Wild Thing when my time comes. Until then, I remember the numerous weekend sweeps, the all-or-nothing last-lap charges that made headlines, and yes, even his embrace of the jeers of the crowd.
He loved to win and hated to lose, and there were those in the grandstands who hated to see him win and loved to hate him. He was bold. He was brash and unabashed. But you can’t say he didn’t want it.
That was the incomparable Kyle F***ing Busch … and if you don’t like that kind of racing, then don’t even watch.
