Still doesn’t quite feel real.
In the wake of the Indianapolis 500, I was going to talk about the new documentary Kyle Larson vs. The Double. Instead, after what happened last week, I revisited a different documentary about a different Kyle: Rowdy.
Kyle Busch‘s death last Thursday (May 21) was an unfathomable, devastating and sudden loss that left our motorsports world shattered. It left a void — not just an empty seat, but it was the premature death of arguably the greatest driver of all time. Busch racked up 234 overall wins across the three main series. He was top 10 all-time in NASCAR Cup Series wins (63), the greatest O’Reilly Auto Parts Series driver of all time (102 wins), and the winningest Craftsman Truck Series driver ever (69 wins, with his last coming at Dover Motor Speedway less than a week before his death).
Busch was the first driver I sort of “picked” to root for. I was a Jeff Gordon fan in the early-to-mid 2000s because my grandfather was; while I still liked the No. 24 going forward, I jumped on the Rowdy train when Busch went to Joe Gibbs Racing. I loved the No. 18 Toyota Camry, I loved the M&M’s car and Mars branding, I loved his DGAF attitude, I loved how he drove.
I vividly remember walking into Target in 2008 with my mom when I was 10 years old, dead set on getting that $20 Winner’s Circle M&M’s 1:24 scale diecast (with the silver numbers). It’s sat in a jewel display case for the past few years, but I got it out and put it on my TV stand for the 600 weekend.
Readers of my Reel Racing column know that his Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull livery is still my favorite movie scheme of all time. I was lucky enough to snag a 1:64 of that car off eBay for a (semi) reasonable price a few years back, and also dug out almost everything Kyle-related on Friday. Forgot how much I had, but I loved the dude in the No. 18 car.
I had the good fortune to cover his career for nine years and 16 total races, plus one as a fan; that includes two that he won (Cup at Richmond Raceway in the spring and fall of 2018), and I was able to ask him a question after his 50th Cup win in 2018. More importantly, though, he was a staple of at least one NASCAR race every single weekend — with a couple exceptions — from 2003 to 2026.
I think all of us reporters have earned our “Kyle Busch stripe” at some point — at the 2018 spring race, I asked him about winning his third race in a row after a rough start to the season (mostly referring to his Daytona International Speedway finish) and he responded with “Rough start?! Where’ve you been?” before answering. But he gave a gracious answer, and for a young reporter, it definitely served as a little pointer for questions going forward.
You could never count Busch out at Richmond, my home track. Aside from covering two of his wins there, he had four other Cup victories and 19 total top fives (nearly half of his 39 premier-level starts). It’s also worth noting that out of 23 starts in the O’Reilly Series there, he only finished outside the top 10 three times and won six times. It’s a shame he only had three Truck Series starts there, but 12 wins across two series is pretty damn good.
Another Busch-related thing I covered was the release of Rowdy, a documentary about the Candyman’s career released in 2022. I never actually reviewed Rowdy on this site, but did talk with producer Chance Wright about the documentary ahead of its release. I watched it via screener the first time, followed by going with our own Michael Massie to the theater that summer, and revisited it with the Blu-Ray copy my parents gave me the day after Busch’s death.
There’s not much to review, in the sense that it’s an excellent documentary. Wright spoke glowingly of Kyle and Samantha’s willingness to work with them on the documentary — I’m sad didn’t get to speak with either of them personally about it — and I appreciated how uncensored it is. Kyle’s dropping f-bombs left and right, much like we were used to hearing him do on the radio, and it gives an unfiltered journey through his racing career.
My only qualm is, in terms of the uncensored nature, we didn’t get either of the best KB quotes in the doc:
“We got a wrecked bucket of f–k!”
or
“Why don’t you go tell the [No. 48] I wouldn’t beat his f–king back bumper off if he would’ve f–king let me go about 40 f–king laps ago, asshole! … Stop flipping me off and just drive your s–t, you little b-tch! Yeah, flip me off again, motherf–ker, I’ll dump your s–t.” — Martinsville, 2010
There will never be another driver like Kyle Busch, man. Funniest dude on the radio ever.
Busch was pretty candid about how his driving style stemmed from a desire to prove himself, to step out from his championship-winning brother’s shadow, and that’s exactly what made Busch unique. Take no prisoners, drive the hell out of the equipment and win often — Kyle exemplified hard driving in his era and will never be matched. He’s easily in the top 10 greatest drivers of all time, if not top five, and it’ll be a long time before anyone else comes close.
The documentary spends some time focused on Kyle and Samantha’s involvement with son Brexton’s racing career, and that’s one of the parts of the documentary where I lost it. Kyle had been so invested in his son’s forays into the same racing world he himself started in, and I hope that in 10 years, or even less, we’re seeing Brexton kick ass in the lower series en route to a Cup Series ride (Richard Childress Racing has said the No. 8 is reserved for Brexton in the future).
There’s loads of archival media and interviews. It’s probably a good thing I watched this a few days before Sunday’s Coca-Cola 600. It was hard enough watching the interviews with mom Gaye, dad Tom and brother Kurt less than 24 hours after the news broke, but the pre-race memorial ceremony on Sunday absolutely broke me. I hadn’t really cried until that moment because it didn’t feel real.
But seeing all of them, along with Samantha, Brexton and Lennix, was heart-wrenching, and I hope there is never a reason for us to hear “Amazing Grace” played on bagpipes at a race ever, ever again.
From 2003-onward, Busch was a staple of at least one NASCAR race for almost every weekend for more than 23 seasons. For many fans from that generation, including myself, he was the last current tether to the Gen 4 era aside from Denny Hamlin and the occasional Jimmie Johnson appearance.
We’ve seen Kurt, Gordon, Dale Earnhardt Jr., Matt Kenseth, Kevin Harvick and so many others that defined the early 2000s retire over the past few years. I don’t know when Kyle would’ve hung it up (I could’ve seen him sticking around until age 45 or beyond), but nobody could’ve predicted this, which makes it all the more jarring.
My heart goes out to Samantha, Brexton, Lennix, Kurt, Tom, Gaye and everyone else in the Busch family, and I wish them nothing but strength. Seeing the video of Busch’s renumbered car being unloaded on Saturday (May 23) to a completely silent garage hit hard. It was like a funeral.
And seeing cars rolling around Charlotte Motor Speedway, with the enormous jumbotron featuring the In Memoriam graphic looming above the backstretch, is when I think things finally started to sink in.
On track, it’s a shame we’ll never get to see him attempt the Indy 500/Coca-Cola 600 double, win a Daytona 500 or drop down and smack the field en route to finally snagging a Truck Series championship.
Love him — or love to hate him — he gave us hundreds of memorable moments over the past two decades and change, even if he struggled at RCR the last few years. I think we’re all glad he got that Dover win a few days before his passing.
The documentary ends with this line from Kyle:
“The story’s not over because I’m not over.”
That hurts. A lot.
If you want to watch the documentary, which I highly recommend you do, it’s free on Prime.
Tomorrow is never guaranteed. Tell people you love them.
Fly high, Rowdy. KFB forever.
Adam Cheek joined Frontstretch as a contributing writer in January 2019. A 2020 graduate of Virginia Commonwealth University, he covered sports there and later spent a year and a half as a sports host on 910 the Fan in Richmond, VA. He's freelanced for Richmond Magazine and the Richmond Times-Dispatch and also hosts the Adam Cheek's Sports Week podcast. Adam has followed racing since the age of three, inheriting the passion from his grandfather, who raced in amateur events up and down the East Coast in the 1950s.
I watched this last night based on your article here, and I enjoyed it. Thank you!
Awesome and fitting story in memory of Kyle! Thanks, Adam!
When I hear “Rowdy” I think of Rowdy Yates. He is no Clint Eastwood!