The side of Kyle Busch you don’t see, on display at Dover

DOVER, DE - JUNE 02: Kyle Busch, driver of the #18 Pedigree Petcare Toyota, and his son Brexton pose with the Coors Light Pole Award after qualifying in the pole position for the Monster Energy NASCAR Cup Series AAA 400 Drive for Autism at Dover International Speedway on June 2, 2017 in Dover, Delaware. (Photo by Chris Trotman/Getty Images)
DOVER, DE - JUNE 02: Kyle Busch, driver of the #18 Pedigree Petcare Toyota, and his son Brexton pose with the Coors Light Pole Award after qualifying in the pole position for the Monster Energy NASCAR Cup Series AAA 400 Drive for Autism at Dover International Speedway on June 2, 2017 in Dover, Delaware. (Photo by Chris Trotman/Getty Images) /
facebooktwitterreddit

This story won’t necessarily turn Kyle Busch haters into fans, but it might make them at least stop and give him some credit where it’s due.

Kyle Busch is having himself a year. While he did win a million bucks at the NASCAR All-Star Race a few weeks ago, he and his Joe Gibbs Racing teammates are still searching for an elusive first victory in 2017. So despite his unquestionable driving talent, most of his headlines have come from things other than feats he’s performed behind the wheel of his No. 18 Toyota.

He famously left Las Vegas bloody after an unsuccessful attempt to get Joey Logano to talk to his fists, Joe Dirt style. Busch also dissed Talladega by insinuating he couldn’t wait to get to a real race track like Kansas Speedway, and followed all that up by answering just one question for the media at Charlotte after seeing a Coca-Cola 600 victory slip through his grasp thanks to Austin Dillon’s fuel mileage gambit.

A few days ago, Busch issued a semi-apology for that last one, but it’s pretty clear that he has no real problem with playing the heel, to use professional wrestling parlance. Of course heels are just playing that role to the crowd and the cameras, and they’re often the first to tell you that’s not who they are in their personal lives, or at least not entirely.

Even Busch’s fellow Monster Energy NASCAR Cup Series drivers don’t seem entirely convinced that’s the case with him. Brad Keselowski brought up both Busch’s behavior and the media’s attempt to frame it as a burning desire for victory this weekend and was more or less having none of it.

Keselowski’s final comment on the matter was what struck a chord with me:

"“You want to show me desire and passion to win? It’s what you do when nobody is watching. That’s what’s the desire and passion to win. I would say to anyone that aspires to be great in this sport or in life that that’s what they should be looking at and that’s the message we should be sending to other kids, other people in this society and this sport.”"

If you’ll excuse a personal anecdote, I have an example of Busch doing exactly what Keselowski is talking about from the night before.

My 8-year-old son and I are in Dover this weekend to attend all three NASCAR races. After the Camping World Truck Series race on Friday night, we lingered a bit at the souvenir trailers before making the long walk back around Dover International Speedway to our car. It was twilight, and most of the other fans had left.

Anyone who’s attended a race at Dover knows there are always golf carts zipping around, so you don’t think much of one pulling up beside you. But as one slowed to a stop beside us, my first thought was that maybe it was a track employee wondering if we were lost. There was a man at the wheel whose face I couldn’t see since he was turned away from us, and a woman holding a small boy, maybe 2 years old.

The man asked the boy if he would share some of his candy with my son, who said thank you and accepted his offer of a small bag of M&M’s. Then the driver said, “Maybe you should also give him some he can eat,” before telling my son to look at the first bag.

I recognized that it was Busch at about the same time my son realized he had autographed the first bag. Both of us were astonished enough that all I managed to do was blurt out, “That’s Kyle Busch,” before shaking his hand and thanking him. The look on his face suggested he was pleased his gesture had the desired effect. And then just like that, the Busch family was off.

There was literally no one watching that exchange, so it’s hard to imagine that Busch had any motivation other than to make a young fan’s day after watching his Truck Series teams compete. Maybe it is hard to justify or understand everything he says or does after races when things don’t go his way, but if Keselowski was wondering how he defines himself when the spotlight isn’t on him, there’s your answer.

Next: NASCAR could make stage, points changes for 2018 season

It’s just a single story, but one imagines there are other people out there with similar tales. I don’t expect that Logano fans or Talladega employees will all of a sudden start flying No. 18 flags, and my son and I are still pulling for Kyle Larson on Sunday. I’ll certainly be a little slower to pass judgment the next time there’s a public debate about Busch’s character, though, and maybe there’s a lesson in there for all of us.