Kicked out of the Daytona 500 two years ago, Kurt Busch is now a champ

Two years ago, on the eve of the Daytona 500, Kurt Busch spent the day being hustled in and out of NASCAR headquarters, which sit across the street from Daytona International Speedway. He was surrounded by lawyers, assistants and frustration.

Busch was fighting (unsuccessfully) an indefinite suspension over an alleged incident of domestic violence that he was disputing. Twice he walked into NASCAR headquarters to appeal. Twice he left in defeat.

The domestic violence incident never had and never would lead to an arrest, criminal charges, conviction or legal settlement. Authorities didn’t think it was much of a case. A family court in Delaware had issued a restraining order, though, and NASCAR, uncertain how to deal with domestic violence after the NFL botched the case of Ray Rice, overreacted and suspended him indefinitely.

So Busch was out. And forget just the big race the next day; his entire career was in jeopardy.

Sunday, Kurt Busch stood on the window of his 41-car, which was parked in celebration on the infield DIS grass. He was surrounded by a sense of peace, redemption and a delirious crew. A few weeks after being suspended, he won the battle to get NASCAR to reverse the suspension. Now, two years and five days later, he won the Daytona 500.

Kurt Busch celebrates winning the Daytona 500 with a burnout in the infield grass. (Getty Images)

Once banned, Kurt Busch was a champion. Once suspended, Kurt Busch was center stage. Once a pariah NASCAR wished would go away, Kurt Busch was right in its face.

“I think it was an overreaction on their part a couple years ago but I had a great team and sponsor that believed in the truth,” Busch told Yahoo Sports. “And they believed in me as well.”

He offered a shrug. He was too happy to dwell in the past. He was too satisfied to care about winning old battles.

“There are setbacks in life,” Busch said. “But here we are in victory lane.”

Busch won it in typically dramatic fashion. He does nothing simply or quietly. “The Outlaw”, they call him. He survived, barely, a wreck-filled afternoon, managing to keep his beaten up car moving just fast enough, just long enough.

Somewhere along the way he banged up his knee. He lost his rearview mirror with 30 laps to go and considered it an omen. He was so concerned about running out of gas, he shut off some switches on his dashboard to save energy in hopes he could reach the finish, even if it resulted in a lack of information.

“You go off intuition, you go off momentum, you go off the sound of other cars,” Busch said. “Just go off of feel.”

He led just one lap, the last.

“The car is completely thrashed,” Busch said. “There isn’t a straight panel on it. The more that I’ve run this race, the more I throw caution to the wind, elbows out.”