Cars Go Fast, Drivers Go Boom

Can a NASCAR team spontaneously combust?

I don't know, but we might get our answer next season. Joe Gibbs Racing announced Tuesday that Kyle Busch will drive the No. 18 car in 2008, joining two-time Nextel Cup champion Tony Stewart and reigning Rookie of the Year Denny Hamlin in the Super Bowl-winning coach's three-car stable.

Which is all fine and dandy ... Stewart and Hamlin are both stellar wheelmen, and many in the Nextel Cup garage feel Kyle Busch -- or as I call him, Shrub (he's Kurt Busch's younger brother) -- is one of the elite talents in the series, if not THE elite talent.

But, as important as driving the wheels off a racecar is, there's one fundamental reason this deal could blow up in Gibbs' face: the personalities.

Stewart is ... shall we say ... petulant. He often winds up scuffling on and off the track with drivers, partly because of his aggressiveness behind the wheel and partly because of his refusal to ever take any blame when he finds himself in an incident. Example: at Daytona last month, Stewart and teammate Hamlin wrecked after Stewart hit the back of Hamlin's car. Rather than saying he hit Hamlin and started the fray, Stewart decided to throw Hamlin under the bus and blame him for the accident.

Nice teammate, huh? That's like Derek Jeter screaming at Alex Rodriguez for missing a screaming line drive down the third-base line.

Hamiln, for his part, is immature at times. Though that's not totally unexpected ... he's only in his 20s and this is just his second full season in Nextel Cup. It wasn't too long ago this guy was watching Cup races at Richmond International Raceway and driving Late Models at Langley Speedway in Hampton, Va. But his rift with Stewart last month was enough to bring Gibbs out from vacation and preparing for the Redskins' season to hold a meeting.

Now, enter Busch, a ripe youngster at just 22. A stellar talent, no doubt -- already a four-time Nextel Cup winner -- but the attitude just isn't right with the boy. Ever since Hendrick Motorsports announced that Dale Earnhardt Jr. would drive the No. 5 (or whatever number it's going to be) in 2008, Busch has acted like the odd man out, complaining his teammated Jeff Gordon and Jimmie Johnson didn't draft with him at Daytona and wondering publicly if maybe the organization had already kicked him out the door.

And we're not even talking about Shrub's on-track incidents -- many of which have involved Stewart. What's gonna happen the first time they tangle on the asphalt as teammates? Is Gibbs gonna have to leave Washington for another impromptu team meeting?

Even Gibbs himself can't ignore the potential pitfalls of pairing Busch with Stewart and Hamlin. At the news conference Tuesday, Gibbs addressed everyone over a vide screen, saying:

"I got to thinking about this: We've got Tony, and the way that Tony acts sometimes," Gibbs said. "And we've found that Denny is no piece of cake. And now we've got Kyle Busch? J.D., good luck!"

J.D., Gibbs' son, handles the day-to-day operations of Joe Gibbs Racing ... mostly because Gibbs himself is busy trying to turn the Washington Redskins into a Super Bowl winner again. Gibbs has three Super Bowl rings with the 'Skins and three Nextel Cup championships -- one with Bobby Labonte and two with Stewart -- so one would think that if any organization could make this explosive combination work, it would be this one. But Stewart and Busch are so volatile individually that combining them will, at some point, spell disaster. Add Hamlin to the mix and things could get interesting.

If nothing else, this threesome of drivers should make for great theatre. The big story in NASCAR in 2008 will be how Earnhardt Jr. fares at Hendrick -- arguably NASCAR's best team -- whether he wins races and contends for championships, or if he suffers more of the on-again, off-again success he's had over the years at Dale Earnhardt, Inc. But let's not forget the marriage of Shrub, Stewart and Hamlin ... because if everyone's not careful (and let's face it, these guys drive 200 mph weekly for a living ... how careful can they be?), this could get quite explosive.

And entertaining. I always did love a good explosion every now and again ...

What Took So Long?

The Associated Press is reporting that Rutgers women's basketball junior Kia Vaughn has filed a defamation lawsuit against radio host Don Imus and CBS Radio over comments Imus made shortly after the team's run to the NCAA championship game against Tennessee. On April 4, Imus referred to the Rutgers players as a bunch of "nappy-headed hos," sparking a national controversy and resulting in Imus' firing.

Imus is reported to have resurfaced, signing a deal with WABC Radio.

Before I launch into my spiel here, let me make one thing abundantly clear: in no way do I condone what Imus said. I supported CBS Radio in firing him and feel sad that someone would see fit to make such a comment about young women and college athletes. In jest or not, those comments were in poor taste and horribly immature. I've been a long-time supporter of women's college basketball, and my work over the years with the Old Dominion team has shown me how good these players are, both on and off the court -- so for Imus to pull a race and sex card for the sake of a cheap laugh was one of the most despicable things a radio host could do.

Aside from eating popcorn on the air while calling a basketball game.

All that said, I can't get behind this lawsuit. Why? Well, for one thing ... what took so long? Why is Vaughn just now filing a defamation suit? Why not file one within a month of Imus' comments? I won't pretend to understand legal procedures, but if I'm going to file a defamation suit against someone and claim their comments had an adverse effect on my reputation, I'd be filing that lawsuit ASAP.

Imus' comments were made in April; Vaughn's suit is just now coming in August. Why the delay?

Granted, from what I know, defamation law suits are tricky; in filing one, you claim that not only have someone's comments impaired your reputation, but that they're also false. And it's on you to prove the defendant's comments were false. That's often easier said than done.

I also don't know what life has been like for these young women since the comments were made. I grant that on the surface, it would appear that Imus' comments had no effect on them; the comments were made, the players reacted in a press conference and met with Imus at the New Jersey governor's mansion ... and that was that.

The players go back to their lives, taking classes and preparing for another NCAA title run in 2007-08 Coach C. Vivien Stringer goes about the business of recruiting, travelling to Virginia for an AAU basketball tournament, miles away from any mention on Imus and his comments. Just life and basketball.

Right? Not necessarily.

But still, I have a hard time believing Imus' comments really tarnished the players' images -- I'd like to think that, if they did, more players would've filed suits. And, near as the AP and the Rutgers womens basketball program can tell, Vaughn's the first player to file such a suit.

Not only that, but I'd like to think most sports fans would be level-headed enough to realize Imus' comments were deplorable and not that bright; I'd like to think they realize he was just a crusty old shock jock looking for some ratings and publicity. Then again, I've often been accused of giving people too much credit, so it's possible there are people out there who heard what Imus said about the Rutgers players and actually thought they were "nappy-headed hos."

But even so, people of that mindset should be the least of the Rutgers players' concern. The best thing they can all do is move on and concentrate on their studies and their games. This is a team returning all five of its starters from last year, a team many feel has a legitimate shot at winning the national title ... why hold onto something like this?

I long ago criticized the likes of Rafael Palmeiro and Barry Bonds for not filing defamation suits -- Palmeiro when Jose Canseco's book Juiced alleged that Palmeiro had used steroids, Bonds when Game of Shadows came out. I felt that if someone made a claim about you and you knew it was false, you sue their butt off before they even know what hit them. You don't sue, that's like an underhanded, implied admission of guilt.

And I realize this case is different. Imus didn't accuse Vaughn or her teammates of steroid use; he simply called them a name. And, though my communication law is a bit off in the years since my education, I'm not sure if name-calling exactly fits under the definitions of slander and libel.

'Cause if it is, I might need to start looking into hiring a lawyer.

Feeder System Needs Tweaking

Perhaps the best way to describe the NASCAR Busch Series is to call it stock car racing’s version of the minor leagues – that is, the Busch Series is to Nextel Cup as the AAA-level Norfolk Tides are to the Baltimore Orioles.

The series is a feeder system of sorts for America’s most popular motorsport – despite sagging TV ratings and empty seats at the track every week. Many of today’s Nextel Cup stars cut their teeth in the Busch Series.

Jeff Gordon and Jimmie Johnson were competitive. Mark Martin holds the all-time mark for Busch Series wins. Kevin Harvick, Greg Biffle and Dale Earnhardt Jr. have each hoisted the Busch Series championship trophy – Harvick and Earnhardt twice each.

And when NASCAR negotiates television deals for the Nextel Cup Series, the Busch Series is part of the deal. When FOX got in on Cup racing, the Busch Series tagged along, either on FOX or FX. TNT and NBC used to split Cup and Busch duties and now ESPN puts all Busch races on ESPN2.

Most Busch Series race take place on the same tracks as the Cup races, sometimes referred to in racing circles as “companion events.” Much like your short track might use a series of 25- or 50-lap features to lead up to the big-ticket 75- or 100-lapper, NASCAR often uses the Busch race to “lead in” to the Cup race.

But the Busch Series finds itself in a bit of a quandary right now. Cup drivers have always raced in the Busch Series, but in recent years the presence of “Buschwhackers” has threatened the health and integrity of the series. Stephen Leicht’s win at Kentucky and Jason Leffler’s win at O’Reilly this year notwithstanding, Nextel Cup regulars have won every Busch race this season.

How can the Busch Series serve as a development series for the Nextel Cup Series if Nextel Cup drivers are constantly barging in and taking checkered flags and valuable purse money?

Carl Edwards has won four times and is running away with the Busch Series this year, holding 787-point lead over David Reutimann. The highest-placing Busch regular? Leffler in fourth, 935 points behind Edwards.

Does that sound to you like a series conducive to developing young talent for the next level?

To put it simply, no. To put it not so simply, the Busch Series is now a glorified test session for Cup drivers. The big, multi-car operations in Nextel Cup form multi-car teams in the Busch Series, place their star drivers in the cars and watch as the Cup drivers dominate the Busch drivers, undoubtedly stunting the growth of a young guy – like, say, Aric Almirola – looking to eventually work his way to Cup.

Example: on June 23, the Busch Series ran at the Milwaukee Mile, while the Cup guys were at Infineon Raceway. Joe Gibbs put Almirola in his Busch car to qualify for Cup driver Denny Hamlin. But since Hamlin didn’t get to the track before the start of the race, Almirola – who won the pole for the Busch race – ran the race.

He ran well, leading laps and appearing to be the car to beat. But, once Hamlin finally got to the track, Gibbs made Almirola come into the pits and climb out of the race car. Hamlin got in, went back out and took the checkered flag. While Almirola gets the trophy and the check and the credit for winning the race, we all know – Hamlin won the race, and in the process Gibbs showed just how unimportant developing young talent in the Busch Series is.

Don’t get me wrong; I understand completely why Cup drivers run Busch races. It helps the track boost ticket sales; fans are more likely to put down money to watch a Busch race if they know they’ll get to see Harvick and Earnhardt Jr. And given how strict NASCAR’s testing rules are for the Cup teams, the Busch races can be valuable bastions of information.

But something needs to be done to let the series be what it once was; an exciting series that showcases the up-and-coming NASCAR talent.

And with Anheiser-Busch opting out of its deal to sponsor the Busch Series after this season, NASCAR is at a crossroads. I see this as an opportunity, a chance for NASCAR to take the Busch Series and turn into something new and exciting, fresh and competitive.

Something young drivers can use as a springboard to the Nextel Cup Series.

So here’s what I suggest: With the Cup Series running the Car of Tomorrow exclusively next season, make a similar change in the Busch Series. Turn the Busch Series into a Sports Car series; instead of running Monte Carlos and Fusions and Chargers and Camrys, let these guys run Corvettes and Mustangs and Vipers and Supras.

Doing so serves several purposes:

1) Running the Busch Series with sports cars will give the series an identity of its own, something to distinguish itself from the Nextel Cup Series. Keep running the same tracks, but by running sports cars, the Busch Series becomes unique.

2) The sports cars will also lessen the advantages Cup drivers have over the Busch regulars, and will negate the “test session” approach most Cup teams take to Busch races. If the cars are so different a Cup driver or crew chief can’t take information to apply to the Cup car, they might be less likely to run the race, letting Busch regulars fight it out amongst themselves.

3) Which would you, as a fan, rather see – a Monte Carlo and a Camry go at it, or a Corvette and a Viper? This could go hand-in-hand with the identity argument, but considering the various other cars NASCAR sanctions – stock cars, open-wheel modifieds, trucks – a sports car series makes perfect sense.

The Busch Series is in trouble right now, what with Cup drivers dominating the series, race purses being so small and a change in series sponsorship on the horizon. NASCAR has to do something to protect and keep the Busch Series alive, because if the series is allowed to serve its original purpose – get young drivers ready for the rigors and competition of Nextel Cup racing – it can be almost as big an asset to stock car racing as Nextel Cup is.

The true racing fans – not just NASCAR fans, but racing fans in general – will flock to the Busch Series regardless, but a switch to sports cars will infuse the series with an identity, a sense of uniqueness and a competition not seen since the Cup drivers began invading en mass nearly every weekend.

If car owners want young drivers to develop into Cup stars, they need the Busch Series. More importantly, they need a Busch Series in which they feel like they have a shot to win and be competitive every weekend.

Right now, they don’t have that.

A Much-Needed Feel-Good

Let's face it, this is a pretty depressing time in sports right now. If we're not arguing about steroids and home run records in baseball, we're pontificating about all the legal issues the NFL has to deal with or betting scandals in an already pointless game -- the NBA.

Then there's that overpaid British guy who, until last night, decided he was too pansy to go running around a wide-open field (oh, I'm sorry ... pitch) with a slightly sprained ankle. Mr. Beckham, there was a guy the other day who pitched five innings for the Colorado Rockies with a broken leg. Get with it, ya ponce.

Where's a feel-good story when we need one? Something we can look at and smile about and feel good about being sports fans again?

Well, look no further than St. Louis, where last night Rick Ankiel made his return to the Major Leagues. Not as the highly-touted pitcher he was prior to going 11-7 in his rookie year of 2000 with a 3.50 ERA, but as an outfielder.

Anyone who follows baseball knows that Ankiel, for all his pitching talent, imploded in the 2000 playoffs, at one point throwing nine wild pitches in one game and completely losing command of the strike zone. It's happened to some of the best -- Atlanta's Mark Wohlers comes to mind -- and although it looked a few times in the minors Ankiel would get it back, he never quite did.

So in 2005, he announced he'd become a full-time outfielder. And despite my reservations about this move, I hoped it would work out, because I never like to see a guy completely lose it the way Ankiel did.

Thirty-two home runs this year in AAA ... yeah, that's all fine and dandy, but it's AAA.

Last night Ankiel got his call-up to the Cardinals, receiving the standing ovation he so richly deserved after years of struggle and perseverance. Most guys would've folded after the meltdown he had in the playoffs, but Ankiel kept at it. He worked and worked and worked, and once he found that pitching was no longer his calling, he found a new outlet and he worked and worked at that, too.

Things started off innocently enough -- a pop out in the first, a strikeout in the third and again in the fifth -- but in the seventh, Ankiel gave the Busch Stadium crowd -- and I have to admit, me -- goosebumps. Taking a hack at a pitch so low and outside I'm still not quite sure how he hit it, Ankiel took the ball over the right field fence.

Home run. To borrow a famous line, I don't believe what I just saw.

It wasn't Ankiel's first big-league blast -- he had two as a pitcher in 2000 -- but still ... for him to have the struggles he did and to come back like this is a tremendous story. Manager Tony LaRussa strikes me as a stoic man, but seeing him getting excited and even bordering on emotional over Ankiel's return only served to hammer home the moment even more.

I'm not sure how Ankiel's career will unfold from here, but the simple fact that he rose from the proverbial baseball ashes and tweaked his game to better suit -- and keep alive -- his career tells me this is a guy who could be successful. I don't know it he'll ever be a .300, 35 HR, 90 RBI kinda guy, but whatever he can give the Cardinals at this point is a bonus -- both for them and for him.

Cause six, seven years ago, this looked like a career that had flamed out.

It's nice to see stories like Ankiel's pop up in the midst of the scandal and controversy. We've seen in the past couple months everything wrong with sports, and here's a shining example of what can be right with them.

What I Know

I wasn't watching the Giants-Nationals game when Barry Bonds hit career home run No. 756 to become the all-time home run leader, surpassing Hank Aaron. It wasn't a protest of Bonds' pursuit, nor was it some statement against the steroid era of baseball.

To put it simply, I was working. These high school football previews aren't gonna write themselves, after all.

But now that I've heard about it, and read about it, and seen a few articles and even a poem on ArmchairGM.com about it -- and finally seen the blast itself thanks to Yahoo! and ESPN.com -- I've come up with some thoughts I feel need sharing.

Do I think Bonds took performance-enhancing drugs? Yes. Do I know Bonds took performance-enhancing drugs? No.

Is Bonds the only player to find himself under suspicion of steroid use? No -- just ask anyone who's tested positive under Major League Baseball's tough -- if not late -- policy. I'm sure a Mr. Rafael Palmeiro would be quite forthcoming.

Is Bonds the face of the so-called "Steroid Era?" Yes. Is it unfair? You bet your lucky glove it is. What about the suspicion for other players? Why aren't we suspecting, say, Albert Pujols or Hideki Matsui? Why don't we suspect Roger Clemens, despite the changes in his physique, his performance in recent years and the fact that he was named in a federal steroids affidavit?

Make no mistake -- I am no Barry Bonds apologist. I think he's an unsavory person and he often lashes out at the media -- colleagues of mine, in a sense -- when all they're doing is their job. Ask a question, get your head torn off ... I don't remember learning that one in college.

But here's one thing I do know amid all this uncertainty: Barry Lamar Bonds has never -- I repeat, NEVER -- tested positive for performance-enhancing drugs.

Everything we know -- or, perhaps more accurately, everything we think we know -- is circumstantial at best. Everything revealed in the bestseller Book of Shadows is based on grand jury testimony we should've never been privy to in the first place ... so that right there hits a notch or two on my Skepto-Meter.

The body changes, while suspicious, do not indict or convict Bonds. Nor do the rumors or the innuendo or the former mistress who's suddenly decided bearing all for Playboy will better her life -- or at least her bank account.

The only thing we know for 100 percent sure right now is that Bonds has hit 756 home runs in his career, one more than the legendary Hank Aaron. Let commissioner Bud Selig and everyone else think and do what they want; unless and until I have solid, irrefutable proof that Bonds took illegal drugs (like, say, a drug test), I will -- albeit begrudgingly -- acknowledge this record and give Bonds his congratulations.

Innocent until proven guilty. Everyone --regardless of occupation or personality -- deserves that much. The record is what it is ... no amount of griping or moaning or pontificating is going to change that.

756 is 756. And Barry Bonds, for better or for worse, is forever attached to that number.