Dropping the Hammer: Remembering the Night Matt Kenseth Lost It

Quick question.

Who won the fall 2014 NASCAR Cup race at Charlotte Motor Speedway?

Having trouble remembering?

Truthfully, I was there the night of Bank of America 500 on Oct. 11, 2014, and I have to remind myself sometimes.

That’s due to a small dustup involving Matt Kenseth and Brad Keselowski, which kept most media members who were there from even attending the winner’s press conference.

Eleven years ago, my NASCAR journalism career was just getting started.

In October, I was a few months into an internship with the historic Sporting News, which is located in Charlotte, N.C.

Four months earlier I had finished up my one year in the sports journalism master’s degree program at IUPUI in Indianapolis, which had been my sole goal as an undergraduate student at Arkansas State University.

My last act as a graduate student before leaving Indianapolis was to cover the Brickyard 400 race weekend.

My first NASCAR weekend as a media member was notable.

Ty Dillon claimed his one and only NASCAR Xfinity Series win while driving the famous No. 3. The next day, some guy named Jeff Gordon won his fifth Brickyard 400.

By the end of the next month I was in Charlotte, working in an office where Bob Pockrass’ desk was a short walk from mine.

The weekend of the Bank of America 500 was the first time I got to work with Bob, who is a fellow Indiana graduate.

Flash forward to the end of the race.

Kevin Harvick had claimed the checkered flag, but Bob tasked me with trying to find Jimmie Johnson. Why, I can’t remember, because he hadn’t led a lap and finished 17th, which I didn’t even know at the time.

I journeyed out into the general chaos that is the NASCAR garage after a race. I eventually found Johnson going from his hauler to a waiting golf cart.

Me being so new to this, I wasn’t quite sure how to approach a six-time Cup champion.

It was awkward, my questions probably didn’t make sense and Johnson didn’t have much to say.

He got on the golf cart and rode away.

Disappointed with myself, I turned around and walked between the haulers for Dale Earnhardt Jr. and Johnson, with the former being on my left.

When I emerged on the other side, something felt … off.

I looked to my left.

There stood Dale Jr., surrounded by a horde of reporters who had been in the middle of interviewing him, despite his 20th-place finish.

The group was basked in the glow coming from the 200-foot wide and 77-foot tall LED video board located on the backstretch.

And everybody was looking at it, in an almost stunned silence.

I turned to look at whatever had grabbed their attention.

On the video board was a flurry of chaotic motion.

A lot of people appeared to be crammed into a very small space and in a struggle.

What were we watching?

Well, this.

I turned back to the Dale Jr. and his posse.

In a very brief, very surreal moment, you could almost hear the gears clicking in the reporter’s minds as they processed what was happening.

Was … that a fight?

Where was that?

Wait, that’s here in the garage.

There was a beat.

Then they scattered.

What I did immediately next, I have no clue. All I know is it was chaotic.

The next thing I remember is being part of a large group of reporters who were gathered around Paul Wolfe, Keselowski’s crew chief at the time.

It was Wolfe who had been the one to pull Kenseth off Keselowski as Keselowski yelled, “You hit me under yella!”

At this point I’m not sure anyone knew what had triggered Kenseth to ambush Keselowski.

With his face lit by a TV camera, Wolfe was peppered with questions.

At one point I believe I asked Wolfe if Keselowski had said anything to him about Kenseth over the team radio after the race, to which Wolfe said he hadn’t.

Not long after the scrum dissolved, I was pulled aside by Sirius XM NASCAR Radio’s Claire B. Lang, who’d I had never heard of before that weekend.

She very nicely informed me that as a print reporter I had to wait for TV and radio reporters to ask questions before I could.

Mind you, I had asked Wolfe a question in a hastily arranged scrum in the middle of the garage, not the bullpen on pit road, where TV and radio do — unfortunately — get priority.

Though I appreciated her trying to give me advice, even as guy barely out of journalism school I knew this “rule” was, quite frankly, dumb. If I had a window, I was going to ask a question.

That’s the job.

But I kept my mouth shut, thanked Claire and went on my way.

The next thing I remember is walking toward the end of the garage facing the fronstretch.

To my right were two ABC cameramen.

One of them, seemingly confused, said something to the effect of, “It’s been 30 minutes, why are we still here?”

“We’re still live,” the other informed him.

Eventually, things calmed down.

As far as I can remember, a group of reporters that included me, Dustin Long, Jeff Gluck, Bob and maybe Jordan Bianchi had gathered at the back of the NASCAR hauler.

For what seemed like a long time, we just waited for someone to come out and talk to us.

Eventually, I got restless and walked down the side of the hauler, where there was a door with a window.

I looked inside.

I was surprised to see Keselowski himself, sitting apparently by himself.

To put it simply, he looked like a kid who was about to have an uncomfortable meeting with the school principal.

I let everyone else know what I’d seen. We were all confused about how Keselowski had gone into the trailer without anyone noticing.

At some point I found myself back in the media center.

Harvick’s winners press conference, which I assume very few people attended, had come and gone.

Dustin, who would be my editor at NBC Sports within five months, sat to my left. Bob sat to my right.

I was still somewhat stunned at what all had transpired in the previous … hour? I have no clue how much time had transpired.

In a daze, I said to no one in particular, “This is only my second race.”

Without missing a beat, Dustin spoke up.

“It’s all downhill from here.”