Kyle Busch (center) with son Brexton (right) and daughter Lennix (left) at Darlington (S.C.) Raceway in April. (Christian Wilson/SWN photo)

By Tom Baker, SWN Senior Editor

CHARLOTTE, N.C. (May 22, 2026) – There are moments in this sport when the words do not come easily. This is one of them.

Kyle Busch was a champion. He was one of the most talented racers any of us will ever see. Lots of people will talk about his statistics, as they should. They matter.

He earned two Cup Series championships and more national series wins than anyone in NASCAR history during a career full of fire, intensity, controversy, brilliance, and moments that people will be talking about for years to come.

But that is not where my mind keeps going.

The Kyle Busch I keep thinking about is Kyle the dad.

I saw that side of Kyle fairly often over the past few seasons, whether it was at Millbridge Speedway racing micro sprints or at Charlotte Motor Speedway with their Legend car and Bandolero for the Summer Shootout.

Sometimes it was just Brexton racing, and other times Kyle would suit up as well. There was a race last year at Millbridge where they both raced together (on dirt) for the first time. 

What always stood out to me was not the résumé. It was not the celebrity. It was not the “Rowdy” image that people either loved or hated.

It was the joy of watching Kyle just be Dad.

A father with his son. A racer sharing the thing he loved with his child. A man who, for all the noise around him, looked completely natural in that role.

That is what keeps coming back to me.

Not the Cup champion. Not the polarizing figure. Not the driver people argued about on Sunday afternoons. Just a dad with his boy at the racetrack.

And I think that matters right now.

Because sometimes in racing, and honestly in sports in general, we turn people into characters, like in the WWE or in a movie or cartoon.

We talk about them as if they are part of a show. We cheer them, boo them, criticize them, meme them, debate them, and tear them apart online as if they are not real people.

But they are.

They are fathers. Husbands. Sons. Brothers. Friends. In some cases, mothers, sisters, and daughters. They are people with families who love them long after the race is over, the cameras are off, and the crowd has gone home.

Kyle Busch gave racing a lot.

He gave the sport greatness. He gave it emotion. He gave it a villain to some, a hero to others, and a force nobody could ignore. He made people feel something, and not every athlete can do that.

Love him or not, you had to respect the talent he possessed. You had to respect his will to win.

But beyond all the trophies, headlines, and debates, a wife is grieving her husband. Children are grieving their dad. A brother is grieving his brother, and two parents are grieving their son. An entire community is grieving one of its own.

That is where my heart is.

Psalm 34:18 says, “The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart.”

That is my prayer this weekend, for Samantha, for Brexton, for Lennix, for Kurt, for everyone who loved Kyle away from the racetrack, and for a racing community that is hurting in a way that still does not feel real.

Maybe this is a moment for all of us to pause before we type. Before we judge. Before we turn real people into racing characters again.

Because the drivers we watch are not just names on entry lists or faces on television. They are not just paint schemes, statistics, interviews, and results.

They are people.

And this morning, we face the cruel reality that one of the greatest racers of our lifetime is suddenly gone far too soon.

I hope we can all pause long enough to remember the person, not just the persona.

May God provide strength and comfort to the Busch family, and to us all, in the days and weeks to come.