AJ Allmendinger isn’t a favorite at Kansas but he’s not folding either

KANSAS CITY, KANSAS - APRIL 18: AJ Allmendinger, driver of the #16 Celsius Chevrolet, looks on during qualifying for the NASCAR Cup Series AdventHealth 400 at Kansas Speedway on April 18, 2026 in Kansas City, Kansas. (Photo by David Jensen/Getty Images)

Normally, a Saturday press conference at a race track like Kansas Speedway is reserved for the usual suspects—the ones who’ve already conquered the place, or at least look like they might on Sunday.

So naturally, in walked AJ Allmendinger Saturday.

Now, on paper, this makes about as much sense as bringing a butter knife to a gunfight. One top-10 in eight races. No Cup win since 2023. And at this particular mile-and-a-half slab of Midwestern honesty, his recent results read like a horror novel: 30th or worse in his last three tries with Kaulig Racing.

And yet, there he was. Not defiant. Not delusional. Just… realistic.

“I’m not sure we really set any expectations,” Allmendinger said, which is either refreshing honesty or the racing equivalent of shrugging before stepping into a hurricane. “Every weekend is kind of a new test.”

That much is obvious. His season so far has been less a steady climb and more a series of educated guesses, particularly with Chevrolet’s new body throwing curveballs like a minor league pitcher trying to impress a scout.

“Las Vegas was probably our most frustrating weekend… we just missed it,” he admitted. “Basically, for us, trying to guess at it.”

Guessing, in NASCAR, is usually what happens right before things go terribly wrong. But here’s the twist: they haven’t.

Allmendinger sits 20th in points—not spectacular, but not a disaster either—and more importantly, the team isn’t beating itself.

“We’re finishing most of the laps and we’re not really making any mistakes… it’s been okay,” he said. Then, catching himself in a moment of rare racing-driver honesty: “It’s so weird… we ran top-15 and we’re happy with that.”

At Kansas, though, “okay” tends to get you lapped.

This place demands commitment bordering on insanity—right up against the wall, foot planted, trusting the car won’t suddenly decide it prefers the outside barrier as a long-term parking solution.

“You know, guys like Larson, Reddick and Blaney… they’re so good at being right against the wall,” Allmendinger said. “Hell, last year, they were wide open in turn one.”

Which is exactly the sort of thing that makes a driver either very fast or very unemployed.

Allmendinger knows where he stands in that equation.

“If you think you can go and get it, go get it. And if not… fencing the thing and making your team work on it is not what we need.”

Translation: heroics are optional; survival is mandatory.

Because at Kaulig Racing, this isn’t about swinging for the fences—it’s about making sure you still have a bat by the ninth inning.

“It’s tough to go beat the Hendrick’s, the Penske’s and Gibbs’,” he said. “It’s just putting your head down… whatever we have for resources, just maximizing it.”

Which is a polite way of saying they’re bringing a slingshot to a tank battle.

Still, there’s something oddly compelling about it. No grand predictions. No hollow bravado. Just a driver who knows exactly what he’s got—and more importantly, what he hasn’t.

He’ll roll off 16th Sunday. Not at the front, not at the back. Right in that uncomfortable middle ground where hope and reality tend to have a fistfight.

And if nothing else, he’s already made one thing clear: if a win does somehow appear on the horizon, even now, even here…

“I’m going to do everything I can.”

Greg Engle