Well, well, well. If NASCAR didn’t give us a little playoff surprise.
Kevin Harvick was eliminated yesterday in the semifinal race of what had been a dominant season for the veteran. He came within a spot or two (I think it was just one spot, but I saw something that said it was two, and I’m not here to argue) of surviving, but his spin of Kyle Busch ended up being a spin of himself as well, and now, the Championship Four is Harvick-less, a previously unthinkable possibility.
This seems to be an issue for some NASCAR fans. Which is fair. The sport’s in a tough spot narrative-wise, somewhere between golf/tennis—where nothing matters like majors do—and baseball/basketball/hockey/football—where the season championship’s the obvious most important thing. Some races matter more than others, but there’s only one that stands alone (not four, like there are in the country club sports). The Cup’s important, but there’s a degree of randomness, similar to those of baseball and hockey except baseball and hockey have branded their championships successfully enough that with the exception of some diehards, fans implicitly accept the randomness. NASCAR hasn’t fully figured out how to make their Cup the biggest thing, and while they’ve done well in the arena of making the playoffs exciting (yesterday’s race was a thrill, with a three-way split-screen necessary over the final laps to cover who was about to advance), they still disappoint some fans who wish one driver dominating over the entirety of the season, as Harvick did, would win the championship.
Reasonable grumpiness from some corners aside (and we should highlight the rationality of the grumpiness, given how much unreasonable grumpiness there’s been this year among NASCAR’s fanbase), yesterday was, as has been said, a thrill. Let’s go through the eight playoff drivers and break it all down:
Alex Bowman & Kurt Busch
Bowman and the elder Busch were peripherally in contention all day, but never got to the point where either appeared a threat to win. They went quietly, which is funny to say in a sport that consists of wrestling a 3,000-plus pound machine for four hours at speeds often above 200 mph.
Martin Truex, Jr
Truex did not go quietly. Truex, the pre-race favorite (not a prohibitive favorite, by any stretch, but a favorite), was right there with the winner towards the end, but a loose wheel necessitated an extra pit stop, and he ended the race a lap down (blocking for Hamlin, if I didn’t get him and Cole Custer confused).
Kevin Harvick
After a bout of misfortune involving contact with Matt Kenseth, Harvick found himself two laps down a little more than a third of the way through the day. Things were dire. And to make matters worse, his car wasn’t very fast, making it difficult to pick up laps, even with plenty of cautions helping the cause.
Eventually, he got a good run, got a few cautions, and got back on the lead lap, but the grandfather clock ran too short, and Kyle Busch was too much to get past without spinning him coming out of Turn Four on Lap 500, an exhilarating moment that ended with Busch helicoptering across the finish line (slowly and safely) and Harvick’s rear end in the wall (rear end of his car, not his body). Had he passed Kyle Busch, again, I believe that would’ve put him in the Championship 4 and knocked Hamlin or Keselowski out, but don’t quote me on that (unless I’m right).
Brad Keselowski
Brad Keselowski did what he had to do, staying near the front all day, avoiding disasters, and finishing strong enough to put the pressure on Hamlin and Harvick. Did he get lucky? Yes. He effectively got into the 4 by one or two points. But he did what the circumstances required, however quietly it happened.
Denny Hamlin
Denny Hamlin was nearly the story. The Cup-less veteran, like Harvick, struggled to stay in contention, and probably would’ve fallen to twelfth or worse had Erik Jones, his teammate-on-the-way-out, passed him when he had the chance. Instead, Jones—who was cut loose by Joe Gibbs Racing a few weeks ago and will be moving next season into the Richard Petty Motorsports 43 car vacated by Bubba Wallace—obeyed orders from up top. And because of that (and about ten other little things), Harvick advanced, and Hamlin did not.
Joey Logano
The Villain nearly got Harvick in himself. Having won at Kansas, Logano had nothing to race for, but spent some time in the lead nonetheless. Until Ryan Blaney passed him, it was he who was trying to foil Chase Elliott, something that would’ve kept Elliott out of the 4 with Harvick surviving.
Chase Elliott
Elliott had the best car all day, and drove it back to the front repeatedly after things went wrong. The most notable thing-that-went-wrong was Elliott’s jackman jumping over the wall early late in the day, which led to everyone learning that a jackman can “reset” if he does such a thing by going back to the wall and kicking off it. This cost Elliott a few seconds at the time, but the recovery by the jackman (what a fun title) saved the team from a much more significant penalty.
There were other pit issues—a left rear tire that would not come right off, for example. There was animosity with Logano (the exact sentence used over the radio by Elliott’s crew chief was reportedly, “He’s a fucking hack”). There was the looming specter of the rules of probability.
But Elliott won. NASCAR got its guy. And while they would’ve preferred Harvick to Keselowski, it’s fair to say they’ll take the way this turned out. Elliott vs. Logano vs. Hamlin vs. Keselowski at Phoenix. Two Penske Fords. One Gibbs Toyota. One Hendrick Chevy. For as many marbles as NASCAR can fit in a Cup.
Vroom vroom.
