Nascar

04.12.02
Day Six
Engine Trouble

Sunday, Aug. 5, 2001, the day of the Brickyard 400 at Indianapolis Motor Speedway, dawned sunny and hot.

Kurt Busch spent part of the morning talking with a national sportswriter. After the drivers' meeting, he changed into his firesuit, ate a light lunch, and walked onto the frontstretch, where Jay Leno, host of The Tonight Show, had just addressed the more than 250,000 spectators, the largest crowd on the Winston Cup circuit. A NASCAR fan and collector of classic automobiles, Leno would drive the pace car for the Brickyard 400. He considered it a high honor, for this is America's preeminent automobile racetrack, opened in 1909, a year before NASCAR founder Bill France Sr. was born.

Busch also felt the weight of history at the 21/2-mile speedway, where he had never raced before. Built of 3.2 million red bricks that were later paved over, except for a venerated strip still visible at the start/finish line, Indy has hosted many of the world's finest racecar drivers since the first Indianapolis 500, on Memorial Day 1911. Jeff Gordon won NASCAR's inaugural race at Indy, 1994's Brickyard 400, and Dale Earnhardt won the next year. "It hits you hard when you first show up and make your first lap," Busch said. "This is why there is a sport today. It didn't start in Daytona -- it started here."

KURT BUSCH and his girlfriend, Melissa Schaper, join a Motor Racing Outreach minister in prayer before the start of a race, a tradition for most, if not all, NASCAR drivers. View today's slideshow View today's gallery: Track workers Making it work

Speedway officials paid tribute to Earnhardt; a minister delivered the invocation; the national anthem was sung; and four F-16 fighter jets and a B-52 bomber flew over the crowd. Busch kissed his girlfriend, Melissa Schaper, and climbed into his car.

"Remember, Kurt, we have to finish," crew chief Ben Leslie said over the radio. After back-to-back bad races at New Hampshire and at Pennsylvania's Pocono Raceway in the weeks before, merely completing the Brickyard 400 would be an accomplishment. Summer was speeding along, the Winston Cup season was more than halfway through, and Busch trailed his chief rival, Kevin Harvick, in the Rookie of the Year contest.

Leno led the cars around the track, and Chuck Conway, chairman of the board and chief executive officer of Kmart, waved the green flag. Jimmy Spencer, who drove the Kmart-sponsored No. 26 car, had won the pole, or first starting position.

Adversity struck almost immediately. Halfway through the second lap, a rookie crashed, taking out several drivers, including Mark Martin and Matt Kenseth. Martin went to pit road for repairs. Sixth fastest in Saturday's final practice, Kenseth's car was damaged beyond his crew's ability to fix it at the track. He would be credited with a 42nd-place finish -- ahead of only the rookie who had wrecked his own car along with Kenseth's.

Thirty-five laps later, another rookie got caught up in a wreck and lost his chance of a respectable showing. But Busch was moving steadily toward the front in a car that handled beautifully. He was in 11th place on lap 57, and when the race leaders returned to pit road for fresh tires and fuel on lap 64, he stayed out to complete a lap in first place. Leading a lap was worth five points in the overall standings, and every point counted.

A CONTENDER for Rookie of the Year, Kurt Busch is disappointed when he fails to meet his expectations, saying: "It's been tough to swallow, tough to take in stride, just to be an average-type rookie." View today's slideshow View today's gallery: Track workers Making it work

"If it stays green, they're toast -- we got 'em!" Roush said.

Three-fourths of the way through the race, Busch was running third and Burton was fourth, and the race continued under green. But with 29 laps to go, the yellow caution flag flew. So much for superior economy.

When green-flag racing resumed, Burton had dropped out of the top 10. But Busch was in sixth, behind Rusty Wallace, and gaining, his lap times several tenths of a second faster than leader Jeff Gordon. "Just concentrate, hit your marks, and you can pick 'em off one at a time," Leslie radioed. "You've got a real shot at this thing. You just need to be nice and smooth."

Soon, Busch was on Wallace's rear bumper. Busch was faster in the corners, but the crafty Wallace kept boxing him out. So Busch tried to get by on the straightaways, but Wallace was faster there. He drove for Roger Penske, and Penske-built engines in early August 2001 generated more horsepower than any in Winston Cup competition, as even Jack Roush had to concede.

"Great job today, couldn't be prouder," Leslie said. "We've got about 20 laps to go here. We just need to be nice and smooth."

But Busch was frustrated. The handling of his car had pleased him all day, but not its power. The end of the race loomed, and he still couldn't pass Wallace. And if he couldn't pass Wallace, he couldn't win.

"We finally have a racecar," Busch said. "Now we need an engine."

Roush, who always monitored the radio traffic, was furious when he heard that crack.

The owner kept his anger to himself for the moment. But spotter Bruce Hayes had an inkling of what awaited the rookie when the race ended. Switching to a channel he knew the boss didn't monitor, he urged Leslie to get to Busch before Roush did. Maybe Leslie could soften the blow. But as it turned out, Leslie would not beat Roush.

The checkered flag flew, and Jeff Gordon -- who had overtaken Dale Jarrett for the points lead earlier in the summer -- won his third Brickyard 400. Busch finished fifth.

Neither Leslie nor Roush was there when the rookie got out of his car, but a publicist who worked for Ford was, with his tape recorder and a request for the customary post-race quote. The publicist's transcripts of statements from all of the Ford drivers were distributed to the press every race weekend.

"We always seem to play the fuel-mileage game and it never turns out," Busch said. "You sacrifice horsepower for that and it seems like it never turns out. It turned out [only] once so far this year: at Charlotte."

A moment later, Roush reached Busch.

He pulled the young man toward him, so that onlookers would not be able to witness what was about to transpire. Gripping Busch's forearm with all his strength, Roush leaned into his driver's face like a drill sergeant with a raw recruit. "I spent thirty-five years of my life getting ready to put you in a car of that caliber!" Roush screamed. "You have the best car I have, the best engine I have! I don't want any negative press!"

Needless to say, Busch did not raise the topic of engines when he went to the formal post-race news conference as the Brickyard 400's top rookie. "This is quite a unique track and it's my pleasure just to even drive here," he said. "It was just a great invite by Jack Roush to give me this opportunity. This is where racing started and this is quite a treat."

By the time Busch returned to his hauler, Roush's reprimand was no longer uppermost in mind. Busch stowed the cap he'd won for being the race's top-finishing rookie with the four others he had earned and said: "That's what I like." He changed into his street clothes and went to find Melissa.

UNLIKE THOSE in Formula One racing, where state-of-the-art technology is required, the basic design of a Winston Cup engine has changed little since the 1950s, when Bill France Sr. settled on his winning format.

Like the engines in that era's production automobiles, a modern Cup engine features eight cylinders arranged in a V; a displacement of about 355 cubic inches; a carburetor, not fuel injection; and a decades-old ignition system that is distributor-based, not electronic. NASCAR strictly enforces the essentials of this old-fashioned American design.

But NASCAR permits experimentation in certain other components of a Cup engine -- intake manifolds, for example -- and it is in these areas that the best engine-builders, working in secrecy, coax superior performance out of their V-8 motors. "There's still an element of alchemy and blacksmithing and witchcraft in this," explained Roush, who has the sorcerer's touch.

Sorcery involves balancing fuel economy, which could give a driver an advantage by saving a pit stop; durability, always important, but more so in long races; and horsepower, a prime asset at certain tracks with long straightaways, such as Indianapolis, where pure speed matters. During Roush's 13 years in NASCAR racing, the average output of a Cup engine had increased from less than 650 to nearly 800 horsepower. Horsepower gains combined with aerodynamic improvements, the result of wind-tunnel and computer testing, steadily increased the speeds at most of NASCAR's tracks.

"This deal is like a caravan that's moving across the desert," Roush said. "Wherever you are today, if you haven't progressed by so many kilometers, 24 hours from now you'll be away from the caravan and off there by yourself. The best of the engines that we've got today, given the same set of rules, will be woefully inadequate in 12 months. You never have enough horsepower."

STARTING WITH the go-cart he built as a boy, Jack Roush had used his genius at designing superior engines to further his quest to go ever faster.

But that quest had faltered so far in the 2001 season.

Three of Roush's Cup engines had blown or partly failed at the disastrous March 11 race at Atlanta, further exacerbating Jeff Burton's early-season woes and precipitating a near-crisis inside Roush Racing. Concluding that the use of new, lighter components had contributed to the problems, Roush reverted to heavier materials, which improved durability, but at the expense of the additional horsepower that lighter pistons and other parts had brought.

On April 1, horsepower became the issue when the Cup circuit visited Texas Motor Speedway, near Fort Worth.

Busch came in fourth at Texas, Mark Martin ninth. But if their engines had put out more power, Martin probably would have finished better and Busch might have won. NASCAR testing after the race disclosed that Martin's motor was producing some 50 horsepower less than winner Dale Jarrett's. Jarrett's motor was built by Robert Yates, who -- like Roger Penske -- was one of Jack Roush's longtime engine-building rivals. Busch's motor lagged by 30 horsepower.

Roush was furious, and the week after Texas, he gathered his engine specialists to express his displeasure.

"If we don't fix this," he said, "I'll go to one of the other shops that sell engines or lease engines and I'll put you guys out of business."

Most doubted Roush actually would, but no one was foolish enough to test the belief. Like an artist with a painting, Roush put part of his soul into his engines, and he demanded that his employees do the same.

By the Brickyard 400, the specialists had nearly closed the gap to competitors. Roush was confident that within a few weeks his engines in all regards would again be at the head of the class.

But events of late summer and early fall would prove otherwise -- and the primary victim would be Kurt Busch.

FROM INDIANAPOLIS, the Cup racers moved to Watkins Glen, N.Y., where Jeff Burton finished 2nd and Kurt Busch 29th at the race on Aug. 12. After Watkins Glen, Cup racers went on Aug. 19 to Michigan, where Burton finished 16th and Busch dead last after his engine blew only 40 laps into the 162-lap race. Busch hoped for better luck on the following weekend, when drivers arrived at Bristol Motor Speedway for the second and final time in 2001. Like professional golfers, Cup racers crisscross the country, competing at the same place twice at most in a season.

March's Food City 500 had been a Sunday afternoon affair, but the Aug. 25 Bristol race would be held under the lights on a Saturday night. Many considered it the most thrilling event of the Winston Cup season, and it attracted celebrities who ordinarily would not travel to the rugged hills of eastern Tennessee, moonshine country. This year they included attorney Johnnie Cochran, and movie director John Lasseter, of Toy Story and A Bug's Life. A devout NASCAR fan, Lasseter owned an actual Winston Cup car that had been retired from Roush Racing's inventory.

But Kurt Busch was more mindful of another notable who would be there: Joseph Galli Jr., the head of Newell Rubbermaid. Galli's company not only sponsored Busch's car, it also owned the rights to the race, the Sharpie 500.

Newell Rubbermaid and Roush Racing had planned a busy weekend for Busch, and on Thursday he cruised with Melissa in his midnight-blue Stage 3 Mustang over the Blue Ridge Mountains from North Carolina into Tennessee. That evening, Busch signed autographs for two hours at a NASCAR fair in the streets of downtown Bristol. Thousands of fans of all ages listened to rock music, feasted on fried foods, bought NASCAR memorabilia, and traded stories of the many great Winston Cup races at Bristol. But the highlight of their evening was meeting their favorite drivers, and having them sign programs, photographs, magazine covers, toy cars, even the clothes they were wearing.

The next day, Busch mingled with Sharpie employees in one of his sponsor's luxury boxes high above the speedway. And in a three-hour period before the race on Saturday, he signed autographs in a Roush Racing souvenir trailer, dropped by the Newell Rubbermaid block party, then visited two hospitality tents and two luxury boxes. Sponsorship helped pay the bills, but it brought demands.

Wherever he went, Busch spoke diplomatically, answering a question about Jack Roush with this assessment: "If you've done something wrong, he'll be sure to let you know about it, but he's a great guy to work for."

Busch's answer to a question about Roush engines, however, hinted of a simmering discontent. "They haven't developed the power that every other team has developed," Busch said. He did not get into engine failure during his hospitality appearances, but the blown engine the weekend before at Michigan still bothered him.

So did the memory of the July Cup race at New Hampshire, when his engine had overheated and died a quarter of the way through the race, consigning him to a next-to-last-place finish.

And mechanical failures were only part of the discontent that Busch felt now. With a few exceptions, such as the Brickyard 400, Busch was dissatisfied with his car's handling. And now, like Burton and to an extent Martin, he believed that the new, harder tires NASCAR had mandated this year were affecting him. He also believed he suffered from his crew's relative inexperience. Compared to the men around Martin, Burton, and Kenseth, his group was indeed green. Still, Busch placed no small measure of blame on himself. His own inexperience, he knew, hindered him in his search for more speed.

On the eve of the Sharpie 500, Busch stood 24th in the standings, about where he had been since late May. He ranked ahead of many veterans, including former champion Terry Labonte, Daytona 500 winner Michael Waltrip, and Rick Mast, who the week before had run his 349th Winston Cup race of a career in which he had never finished a season higher than 18th. But Busch found no consolation in such comparisons. He measured himself by his own expectations, and the consistency he had hoped for this year eluded him. He hadn't been able to put together back-to-back strong finishes in months.

Busch's other aspiration, of becoming Rookie of the Year, was also fading. It was still mathematically possible for him to overtake Kevin Harvick, but only if his racing improved dramatically and Harvick's unexpectedly declined, neither of which seemed probable at the end of August.

"It's very discouraging to watch this other rookie just run away with the Rookie of the Year chase when I did it to people last year in the Truck Series. Now I'm on the flip side of the coin," Busch said. Although it wasn't true, he believed that he had sorely disappointed Roush, the man who had been so impressed with his talent and extraordinary learning skills.

Busch noted his quick mastery of every racing series in which he had competed before the Winston Cup. "That's something that I've failed to do so far this year. It's been tough to swallow, tough to take in stride, just to be an average-type rookie."

Of the many discoveries of Busch's maiden Winston Cup year, one was least welcome. "It's a very humbling sport," Busch said.

AND BRISTOL proved it once again. As a national television audience watched from home and CEO Galli watched from his luxury box above the track, Busch spun out once, got tangled up in a wreck another time, and despite adjustments during a flurry of pit stops, never achieved good handling of his car. He finished in 25th place, 10 laps down -- well behind Harvick, who finished second to Tony Stewart, the 1999 Rookie of the Year.

Busch's objective for the next race, the Sept. 2 Mountain Dew Southern 500 at Darlington Raceway, was to qualify and finish respectably -- 20th or better would fit the bill. He had not forgotten his inaugural weekend at the treacherous speedway in South Carolina, back in March, when he had started 27th and finished 30th.

So Busch did not expect to contend for the pole, awarded to the driver who rips off the fastest lap in pre-race qualifying. Winning a pole is not only its own achievement, recorded in the NASCAR history books. It also gives the driver the best place to start a race: the first inside position in a double row of cars that constitute the starting field. And a pole gives a driver his choice of pit stalls, which at many tracks can bestow a considerable advantage when refueling and taking on fresh tires.

Having drawn 37th in the order for Friday's qualifying, Busch watched as drivers such as Rusty Wallace and teammates Burton and Martin, all of whom had enjoyed success at Darlington, ran off fast times. Harvick was fast, too.

But on his turn, Busch topped the 36 drivers who had gone before.

Eight were still to qualify, and Busch kept his eye on the scoring tower as they completed their laps. Jimmy Spencer was slower than Busch. Ricky Craven was slower. Todd Bodine, slower. Now it was down to the final entrant, three-time champion and current points leader Jeff Gordon, the driver of the No. 24 DuPont Chevrolet. Gordon was the acknowledged king of Darlington. He had captured four poles at the track, most recently in March, and he had won five races there.

A TV broadcaster joined Busch on the frontstretch as Gordon started around. "Oh, this is going to be close!" the broadcaster said. "What's it going to be at the start/finish line? Can't do it! Kurt Busch has won the pole for the Mountain Dew Southern 500!" Gordon's time, 29.286 seconds (167.916 miles per hour), was 23 thousandths of a second slower than Busch's.

"You guys have been promoting this deal about drama," Busch told the broadcaster. "This is drama! This is unbelievable, to go out there and pull a lap like that and have the 24 chasing you -- he's Mister Drama himself. I'm just ecstatic. I can't believe it. Just to have this whole program behind us, to even drive in Winston Cup, I've got to thank this guy right here." He meant Roush, whose smile was as big as his rookie's.

"Were you nervous?" the broadcaster said.

Busch wasn't. He brimmed with the excitement of having beaten everyone, of having won at extreme speed. No full-time Winston Cup rookie, not even Harvick, had won a pole in the 2001 season. Few drivers ever did in their first year of Cup competition.

"You can expect anything from a Mount Everest-type peak to a Death Valley-type low in Winston Cup racing," Busch said. "There's nothing that really can prepare you for this -- or you can compare it to."

Mark Martin hugged Busch, and Roush did, too. Roush said that based on the 2000 Craftsman Truck Series -- in which Busch had finished second and been named Rookie of the Year -- he had begun the 2001 Cup season expecting Busch to win a pole at some point. But that expectation had fallen away as the year unfolded. "I'd settled in for a long siege," Roush told reporters. "I figured this was going to be harder than I thought it was going to be initially, and that we were not going to get a pole this year. Kurt and Ben have been working really hard. They've been hunting and pecking all over the map on setups and things and I can't believe it happened here today. It's just wonderful!"

It seemed as if Busch's day had finally arrived.

Busch led the first 24 laps of the Mountain Dew Southern 500, and again on laps 81 through 130 and he was running second, behind Gordon, when his alternator quit on lap 233. To conserve electrical power, Busch shut off the special brake-cooling fans mounted in Cup cars on tracks like Darlington, where brakes are subject to heavy use. But losing the fans compromised his braking, and Busch brushed the wall a few laps later and was forced to pit road for repairs. When he returned to the race, he was in 27th -- a lap down. He had made the lap up and advanced as high as 18th when a tire blew, sending him back to the pits again. Busch finished the race in 39th place.

It was at about this point that Busch began repeating the old saw that if he didn't have bad luck, he wouldn't have any luck at all.