The Daytona 500 Didn’t Like Chase Elliott Either
Let’s face it: the Daytona 500 doesn’t often behave like a movie.
Let’s face it: the Daytona 500 doesn’t often behave like a movie.
Chase Elliott says the Daytona 500 is part skill, part survival and part lottery ticket—proof that even champions need luck when 41 cars barrel into Turn 1.
After years of feeling like NASCAR was borrowing someone else’s playoff script, the sport is going back to something that actually sounds like it belongs on a racetrack
Not everyone was celebrating Sunday night at Martinsville.
Cliff Daniels has multiple options. Alan Gustafson has one.
One shove too many sent half the field spinning, Elliott’s title hopes crashing, and Talladega back to doing what it does best—causing expensive chaos.
The Toyotas controlled Kansas like a dictatorship—until they staged a coup on themselves.
Denny Hamlin swept the stages, Bubba Wallace banged doors, and Zane Smith went airborne—but Chase Elliott walked away with the trophy.
One lap you’re back in the fight, the next you’re nose-first in the wall—Elliott lived both at Bristol.
Chase Elliott came to Richmond chasing points. Instead, he got chased straight into the fence by Kyle Busch’s impersonation of a torpedo.