Under the bright Nevada lights, Denny Hamlin put on a masterclass at Las Vegas Motor Speedway, taming the mile-and-a-half track with the kind of poise and patience that’s defined his late-career prime. But the No. 11 FedEx Toyota wasn’t the fastest early on. Hamlin spent the first half shadowing the likes of Kyle Larson and Chase Briscoe, but as the sun dipped and the desert air cooled, the car came alive.

With four laps to go, Hamlin surged past Briscoe’s fading Ford on fresher tires and never looked back, sealing his second Las Vegas win. That balance, patient strategy, clean stops, and a driver in sync with his crew chief, has become their trademark since 2019. That win wasn’t just another trophy; it was a nod to the guy who flipped the script on Hamlin’s career, pulling him from a rut to a rocket ride back to the top.

Gabehart’s game-changer

Under those neon lights, the Gabehart-Hamlin duo once again rolled the dice in Vegas and hit the jackpot. Speaking with NASCAR, Hamlin didn’t hold back: “No, and I think that I do owe, I owe if I ever win a championship. The list of people I need to thank, you might as well just hunker down. Like, I’ve got a long list of people that I think have contributed to my success, and certainly, you know, what Chris Gabehart did, to be specific, when he got a hold of me.”

That’s not just lip service; it’s a bow to the man who yanked him from the shadows of a winless 2018, a season that left the No. 11 team stuck in neutral with a 12.9 average finish and a tenth-place limp in the Playoffs. Gabehart, fresh from JGR’s Xfinity success, stepped in as crew chief, swapping out Mike Wheeler and sparking a turnaround that still burns bright.

Hamlin owned the low point: “I’d come off my first winless season of my career and my only one winless season, 2018. And yeah, he’s instilled work ethic into me. He certainly pushed me to be better, and since then, regardless of who I’ve been around, that’s the person I am, and so I owe that certainly personally and professionally, that type of growth to Gabehart.”

Gabehart brought a new playbook, heavy on prep, data, and straight talk, turning a coasting crew into a calculated machine. The proof? Their first dance in 2019, snagging the Daytona 500, snapping a 47-race drought, and honoring J.D. Gibbs’ memory weeks after his passing. That wasn’t luck; it was Gabehart’s process meeting Hamlin’s wheel.

The numbers scream revival: six wins in 2019, Bristol, Pocono, Texas, and a Championship 4 run. Then seven more in 2020, fourth in points, and two in 2021, with average finishes climbing to 9.5 and 9.3 from that 2018 slump. Gabehart didn’t just tweak setups; he rewired Hamlin’s headspace, cooling his fire into focus. “He brought a process to how we go about things,” Hamlin told The Athletic, crediting Gabehart’s calm for balancing his heat.

The crew chief’s take? Hamlin’s buy-in made it click, a two-way street that paved 25 wins from 2019 to 2024, including two more Daytona 500s and deep Playoff pushes.

Beyond the track, Gabehart’s shadow looms large. Hamlin’s leap to co-owning 23XI Racing with Michael Jordan? That’s got Gabehart’s fingerprints, his mentorship sharpening Hamlin’s leadership lens. JGR brass and teammates nod to it, the crew chief’s steady hand turning a driver into a dynasty builder.

When Hamlin says Gabehart “saved” his career, it’s no stretch; it’s the guy who flipped a flatline into a full-throttle fight, making every checkered flag a thank-you note to the man who re-lit the spark.

That Vegas win, Hamlin’s 60th, cracked open a side of the “villain” fans rarely glimpse.

Hamlin’s heart shocks the stands

Nobody but Hamlin saw it coming, his emotional spill in victory lane catching the crowd off guard. Chasing that milestone for months, he clawed through grit, not chance, sniping the lead off a late restart from Larson and Briscoe. Standing in the glow, he bared it all, thanking fans with a raw nod that hit like a gut punch, a nod to years of grind finally cashing out.

On NASCAR The After with Shannon Spake, Hamlin peeled back the curtain: “I know that I’m actually a fairly high emotional person. I just don’t bring the emotion into work. That’s probably the one difference that it is. I never get rattled on the racetrack. It doesn’t matter what happens. I kind of understand how things go. I’m able to keep a level head for the most part. And I just feel as though that’s a big advantage for me.”

That cool head’s Gabehart’s gift, a mental reset that keeps him steady when tires scream and tempers flare.

But off the track? “Now, outside the car, I mean, I feel as though I’m just like everyone else, and get emotional about things when it comes to family and kids and all that stuff. And so, yeah, I think I was a bit more vulnerable than I had planned on being. And something that certainly the fans had not seen before,” he said.

That Vegas moment, eyes wet, voice soft, flipped the script on his tough-guy rep. Post-race, he doubled down, admitting he’s “probably softer than what I put off,” even copping to movie tears. But the kids? “I’ll never let my kids see it,” he chuckled. “But I do have feelings. I know it’s hard to believe [smiling]. I don’t know.”

That raw reveal ties back to Gabehart’s reboot, the discipline that let Hamlin harness heart without losing edge. Vegas wasn’t just a win; it was a window into a driver reshaped, a man who owes his revival to a crew chief who saw the spark and fanned it into a fire. If that championship comes, Gabehart’s name won’t just be on the list; it’ll be the cornerstone of a legacy that’s still lapping the field.