For much of this week, the build-up to the Snowball Derby felt like pure magic. Five Flags Speedway, the crown jewel of short-track racing, is packed with Super Late Models, Cup guys, regional killers, and kids trying to make a name. But this year, the weather had different plans.

Ryan Preece, fresh off a full NASCAR Cup season, had his car ready, his helmet packed, and a real shot at finally checking the Derby off his bucket list. Fans were pumped to see a current Cup driver mix it up with the late-model sharks. The entry list looked unbeatable. But the weather app, not so much.

Rain kept threatening, sessions got moved, practice got cut short, and suddenly the whole week started feeling like a coin flip. Everyone kept checking the radar, hoping the storms would hold off just long enough for the big show.

Then Friday hit, and Ryan Preece dropped a short post on X: he was out.

“Unfortunately, I’ve withdrawn from the Snowball Derby,” he wrote, thanking friends, family, sponsors, the track, everybody. No wreck, no injury, no big drama, just a quiet goodbye.

On the same day, 15-year-old Max Reaves pulled out too, also blaming prior commitments. Two big names gone just like that, right as the serious racing was supposed to start. The timing felt off to a lot of people. Preece has run the Derby before, knows how special it is, and still walked away. Why?

Reaves is a young gun with everything to gain. When two drivers from opposite ends of the experience spectrum both bounce at the same time, people start asking questions that don’t have easy answers.

Nobody was buying the simple “scheduling conflict” line without a side-eye. The garage and fans on X went straight into detective mode.

Fan theories are getting wild

First came the dark jokes about weather curses. “The Laguna Seca curse has arrived. South Florida is beautiful… Even @Kenny_Wallace with all that hot air couldn’t get that pea soup to move from his cruise ship off the coast.”

It’s funny until you realize people are half-serious. Rain has messed with the schedule all week, sessions moved, features postponed, and now two high-profile drivers are suddenly “busy.” Feels convenient.

Then the sarcasm really kicked in: “What’s really disappointing is that the weather causing the delay isn’t even capable of making snowballs.”

That one stings because it’s true. The rain hasn’t been a total washout, just enough to shuffle everything and make life hard. For fans who spent money on tickets and hotels, “inconvenient drizzle” doesn’t feel like a good enough reason to lose big names.

Someone else put it bluntly: “A Lot of effort to pack up and go home. The keyboard critics will demand to know why.”

Because it’s not just Preece or Reaves. Teams drove ten, twelve hours, some on open trailers, some on tight budgets. When a Cup guy with factory support and a young gun with big backing both bounce at the same time, people start asking questions that don’t have easy answers.

The big one floating around is money and commitment. “Why are people withdrawing? Is it funding and money or something else?”

The official line is scheduling, but the whispers say maybe some teams looked at the forecast, looked at the cost of staying another day or two, and decided it wasn’t worth it. The Derby is the biggest stage in short-track racing, but it’s also a gamble. One bad lap in qualifying and you’re loading the hauler early anyway.

Preece has run the race before and knows the deal. Reaves is a 15-year-old kid with a bright future who probably got pulled to protect the car and the program. But when two drivers from opposite ends of the experience spectrum both walk away right as the serious money is on the table, it doesn’t feel random. It feels like the sport’s bigger problems, weather, cost, risk, and reward, are all crashing into each other at the worst possible weekend.

The Derby has always been brutal. That’s why winning it means so much. But when even NASCAR Cup guys and top prospects start saying “never mind,” it stops feeling like bad luck and starts feeling like a symptom.

The race itself will still be incredible, and the trophy will still be the hardest one to win in short-track racing. But two empty trailers rolling out of Pensacola before the green flag even waves? That’s a different kind of story, and the fans aren’t letting it die quietly.