At Daytona International Speedway, the atmosphere was electric but tense during the 2025 Coke Zero Sugar 400. Kyle Larson’s bump draft on Bubba Wallace early in the race triggered a wreck that not only shattered Kyle Busch’s playoff hopes but also instantly made Larson the “enemy of the people” in the eyes of many fans.

The 2025 Coke Zero Sugar 400 was packed with tension from the start of the race as drivers fought desperately for playoff survival. But what happened on that tri-oval wasn’t just a wreck; it was a defining moment where one man’s gamble ended another’s championship dream, sparking fierce backlash and a debate about risk, rivalry, and responsibility in NASCAR’s high-stakes playoff scene.

Larson’s bump ends the day for Kyle Busch

Daytona’s 2.5-mile high-banked tri-oval is one of NASCAR’s most iconic superspeedways, featuring 31-degree banking in the turns that forces cars to race inches apart at speeds exceeding 180 mph. This layout creates a unique challenge where drafting and bump drafting aren’t just tactics; they are the lifeblood of success but also the seeds of disaster. Drivers depend heavily on aerodynamic momentum, pushing and nudging each other to gain speed, but one misstep can spark chaos instantly.

Against this backdrop, on lap 27 of Stage 1, Kyle Larson attempted a bump draft on Bubba Wallace in the tri-oval, a maneuver perfectly legal but notoriously risky in such tight confines. The contact spun Wallace’s car out of control and into the path of other drivers, including Joey Logano and Kyle Busch. The wreck was swift and brutal. Busch, fighting precariously to remain in playoff contention, saw his championship hopes end abruptly.

The fallout was immediate; many fans and commentators pinned blame on Larson. However, Bubba Wallace himself took a more measured perspective, telling NBC Sports, “I’ll take the blame for it. Unfortunately. Everything was going too good, too early to be true. Something was bound to happen. I hate that we were involved in it.” However, he added, “The hit from the 5 (Larson) shoved me down there, and it was like I got shoved up by the 22 (Logano) and the 12 (Blaney) moved up.” His words provide a glimpse into the immense pressure drivers face navigating Daytona’s high-stakes, high-speed pack racing—where even the best-laid plans can unravel in a heartbeat.

Busch, however, gave the sole credit to Logano for the same. “Looked like the fastest car got in a hurry to get to the wreck,” Busch said of Logano. “We still got 20 laps to go and he’s trying to go through the middle and make a hole that isn’t there and just created chaos…” For Busch, the wreck was a cruel culmination of a season marked by inconsistency and tough breaks. Daytona’s superspeedway demands razor-sharp precision and perfect timing, leaving no room for error. The slightest bump in the wrong spot, especially on a tri-oval with steep banking and a long front stretch, can ignite chain reactions that tilt the playoff balance.

Larson escaped with only minor damage, but the wreck’s consequences rippled widely, ending Busch’s postseason and igniting a fierce debate about responsibility and risk-taking at a track where fans and drivers alike know the fine line between success and disaster is perilously thin.

Fans’ frustration and fallout on Larson

Fans immediately began dissecting the incident, with many directing their frustration squarely at Kyle Larson, whose bump draft was seen as the cause of the chaos.

Some fans expressed outright hostility toward Larson’s style of racing. One wrote, showing clear frustration with his aggressive approach: “I truly hope Larson has all the bad luck in the playoffs. Dude races like a scrub, it’s the first stage. Jack wagon calm down.” This kind of blunt criticism reflects long-standing tension around Larson’s approach in pack racing situations.

Others focused on the mechanics of the wreck, questioning Larson’s role in triggering the chain reaction: “Did Larson not hit Bubba and got him out of whack and into Logano???” This illustrated how fans closely analyze every detail, trying to assign responsibility based on the sequence of events.

Several fans also referenced Larson’s history at superspeedways, reinforcing a narrative of repeated mistakes in high-pressure situations: “Larson once again giving a bad bump and causing a wreck at a Superspeedway. That’s nothing new.” This comment underscored how one incident can reinforce larger perceptions about a driver’s weaknesses.

Sarcasm and mockery also surfaced as coping mechanisms among fans annoyed by Larson’s recurring presence at the center of wrecks: “Kyle Larson: try not to be the worst superspeedway racer oat (impossible).” This reflects how polarizing Larson’s racing style has become in certain segments of the fanbase.

Finally, some reactions were highly technical and accusatory, pointing directly to Larson’s precise role in causing the carnage: “Kyle Larson caused this wreck!!! Bump drafting in the tri-oval is already risky, and he hit Bubba on the right rear quarter panel too!! Larson caused this!!!” These fans emphasize the risks inherent in superspeedway bump drafting and hold Larson accountable for crossing that risk threshold.

Behind the fan fury, the playoff implications crystalize the stakes. Daytona’s wreck shook up the standings significantly, with Kyle Busch losing all mathematical chances of reaching the postseason. Meanwhile, Larson’s playoff position remained secure, intensifying the contrast between fortune and misfortune that fans continue to debate.

This blend of passion, analysis, and raw emotion encapsulates the volatile nature of NASCAR fandom, where every decision on the track has power far beyond the race itself, shaping reputations, narratives, and allegiances as the playoffs loom.