COMMENTARY
An open letter to Kyle Busch:
Dear Kyle,
Hey man. Tough weekend, huh? You dominated the Nationwide Series race at Darlington but lost it on an unlucky flat tire, then slammed the wall in the Sprint Cup race and finished many laps down.
Well, you know what they say: You can’t win ‘em all.
On second thought, maybe you’ve never heard that expression before. You certainly don’t act as if you have.
After the Nationwide race, you did that thing where you scowl and walk really fast and ignore reporters when they try to ask you for your reaction to what happened. You know what I’m talking about.
Then after you hit the wall in the Sprint Cup race, you refused to come out of your hauler for 45 minutes and talk to the waiting media and eventually offered just 15 words before getting back in your damaged car to finish the race.
Look, everyone knows you’re competitive and passionate about racing. And, no doubt, that fire helps you win races.
I’ve already gone on the record as saying I think you’ll eventually go down as the greatest driver in history when your career is finished. A ton of people think you have the best talent in the garage.
But you have become by far the worst loser in NASCAR. It’s no wonder fans have such a hard time rooting for you.
See, here’s the thing: When you win, you show a great deal of personality. You can be funny, engaging, interesting and entertaining. And you win so often, you’d think that you would learn how to take the bad times with the good times.
The problem is, there’s no in-between with you. If you don’t win, you often act like a child who didn’t get his way. People don’t like that, Kyle.
I heard your apologist Darrell Waltrip say the other day that you like winning more than anyone and hate losing more than anyone.
Uh, no. That’s pretty silly, actually. Other drivers despise losing, too. But most of them act like men and face the music when they have bad days.
We all have bad days, Kyle, but that doesn’t give us a license to behave badly. I don’t know if you realize this, but outside of the racing world, a lot of people – many NASCAR fans – have very difficult, high-stress jobs in which every day is not a victory. But that’s life – you have to go through adversity and learn how to deal with the down times.
And, dude, your down times aren’t even that bad. You storm off and refuse to talk when you have a bad finish, but at the end of the day you still fly home on a private jet to your lakeside mansion filled with expensive toys. How about a reality check?
Look, it might be understandable if you acted poorly after enduring weeks of frustration or something like that. But when you sweep the weekend at Richmond and then act as if it’s the end of the world because you didn’t win the very next week, that’s a problem.
Maybe you have too many enablers around you, Kyle. People let you get away with your bad behavior and don’t call you out on it or make you take responsibility for your actions. They make excuses for you and say, “Well, that’s just Kyle.”
I’m sure that makes things easier for you, because you never have to apologize and are allowed to just move on as if nothing ever happened. But Kyle, it sure doesn’t win you many friends. And the sad thing is, I think there are a lot of fans who actually want to like you. You just turn them off by being such a sour jerk.
What’s amazing about this whole thing is you could easily start to change your image by taking 30 seconds, answering two questions from reporters about what happened in the race – thereby sending a message to both the media and fans that you’re capable of dealing with defeat. It might require a deep breath and some self-discipline, but it’s not as if people are asking you to stand on the front lines in Afghanistan or anything.
I know there are good people giving you advice, the ones who understand how much you continually damage your image. Do yourself a favor and listen to them, Kyle. And aside from just your popularity, it wouldn’t hurt to try and be a better person in general.
Sincerely,
Jeff Gluck
An open letter to Kyle Busch:
Dear Kyle,
Hey man. Tough weekend, huh? You dominated the Nationwide Series race at Darlington but lost it on an unlucky flat tire, then slammed the wall in the Sprint Cup race and finished many laps down.
Well, you know what they say: You can’t win ‘em all.
On second thought, maybe you’ve never heard that expression before. You certainly don’t act as if you have.
After the Nationwide race, you did that thing where you scowl and walk really fast and ignore reporters when they try to ask you for your reaction to what happened. You know what I’m talking about.
Then after you hit the wall in the Sprint Cup race, you refused to come out of your hauler for 45 minutes and talk to the waiting media and eventually offered just 15 words before getting back in your damaged car to finish the race.
Look, everyone knows you’re competitive and passionate about racing. And, no doubt, that fire helps you win races.
I’ve already gone on the record as saying I think you’ll eventually go down as the greatest driver in history when your career is finished. A ton of people think you have the best talent in the garage.
But you have become by far the worst loser in NASCAR. It’s no wonder fans have such a hard time rooting for you.
See, here’s the thing: When you win, you show a great deal of personality. You can be funny, engaging, interesting and entertaining. And you win so often, you’d think that you would learn how to take the bad times with the good times.
The problem is, there’s no in-between with you. If you don’t win, you often act like a child who didn’t get his way. People don’t like that, Kyle.
I heard your apologist Darrell Waltrip say the other day that you like winning more than anyone and hate losing more than anyone.
Uh, no. That’s pretty silly, actually. Other drivers despise losing, too. But most of them act like men and face the music when they have bad days.
We all have bad days, Kyle, but that doesn’t give us a license to behave badly. I don’t know if you realize this, but outside of the racing world, a lot of people – many NASCAR fans – have very difficult, high-stress jobs in which every day is not a victory. But that’s life – you have to go through adversity and learn how to deal with the down times.
And, dude, your down times aren’t even that bad. You storm off and refuse to talk when you have a bad finish, but at the end of the day you still fly home on a private jet to your lakeside mansion filled with expensive toys. How about a reality check?
Look, it might be understandable if you acted poorly after enduring weeks of frustration or something like that. But when you sweep the weekend at Richmond and then act as if it’s the end of the world because you didn’t win the very next week, that’s a problem.
Maybe you have too many enablers around you, Kyle. People let you get away with your bad behavior and don’t call you out on it or make you take responsibility for your actions. They make excuses for you and say, “Well, that’s just Kyle.”
I’m sure that makes things easier for you, because you never have to apologize and are allowed to just move on as if nothing ever happened. But Kyle, it sure doesn’t win you many friends. And the sad thing is, I think there are a lot of fans who actually want to like you. You just turn them off by being such a sour jerk.
What’s amazing about this whole thing is you could easily start to change your image by taking 30 seconds, answering two questions from reporters about what happened in the race – thereby sending a message to both the media and fans that you’re capable of dealing with defeat. It might require a deep breath and some self-discipline, but it’s not as if people are asking you to stand on the front lines in Afghanistan or anything.
I know there are good people giving you advice, the ones who understand how much you continually damage your image. Do yourself a favor and listen to them, Kyle. And aside from just your popularity, it wouldn’t hurt to try and be a better person in general.
Sincerely,
Jeff Gluck
