Roger Grossman
News Now Warsaw
Last Thursday, the breaking news alert that NASCAR champion Kyle Busch had died in a non-racing related incident was quite jarring.
As the days go by, we find out more about what happened, and hopefully, time will allow us to understand the “why” of what happened.
And hopefully, NASCAR will not make the same mistake it made by hiding what happened to Dale Earnhardt. That’s another column for another day
When I heard the news of Busch’s shocking death, my brain drove its forklift into the back rooms of the warehouse of my mind and brought out an interview I did with Kyle Busch.
It was July 28, 2016, and Toyota was opening up its first dealership in Warsaw — right where it stands today, just north of US 30 on State Road 15.
The world of NASCAR had arrived in the state of Indiana to run the Brickyard 400 at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, and Toyota brought several of its high-level corporate leaders to the grand opening of its Warsaw location.
And they were bringing Kyle Busch to Warsaw to help draw a crowd to their new shop.
And did he ever!
I don’t know how many people were crammed inside that building that afternoon, but there wasn’t enough room to turn around. And those who couldn’t get inside stood outside on a beautiful, warm summer day.
I was there because WRSW-FM was broadcasting live, and I was asked if I would interview Kyle Busch.
At that time, Busch seemed to be in the middle of all the driver spats in the NASCAR Cup Series. And for his part, he didn’t really flinch away from that. Truthfully, it sure looked like he embraced the role of “villain” in a world of stock car driven by squeaky-clean marketing majors like Jimmy Johnson and Jeff Gordon.
He would nudge you, bump you or just flat run you into the wall if that’s what it took to beat you.
And he could not care less about your feelings.
When presented with the opportunity to interview Busch, I didn’t hesitate to accept. No, he would not be my favorite person to interview of all time, but I have never and will never let that get in the way of doing my best to connect a person with the public.
In the days, hours and minutes leading up to Busch’s arrival at Toyota of Warsaw, I was reminded of the goal of this event, which was to be a positive promotion of the newest car dealership in Warsaw.
The best summary of that would be the marketing person from Toyota who said to me 15 minutes before the scheduled interview, “Remember, Roger, your job here is to interview him. You are not here to pick a fight with him, ask him something controversial or make a name for yourself.”
Some interviewers would put their microphone down at that point and take a pass on the interview. But for me, I was there on behalf of the radio station to do the same thing as everyone else was trying to do — leave a good first impression about Toyota’s new presence in Warsaw.
Shortly after, you could hear the cheering of the people outside. Busch had arrived.
He walked right up to me and said, “Roger, it’s nice to be here.” I smiled because I appreciated the fact that he knew who was interviewing him.
Then he leaned into my left ear and said, “Please don’t make me look like a jerk (he used a different word, but you get the point).”
I leaned into his right ear and said, “I have no intention of doing anything of that sort. I am here to promote this dealership and talk to you about Sunday’s race.”
He nodded in confirmation.
I remember very little about the interview itself, other than we talked about how he felt about his car during his practice and how important his relationship with Toyota was.
It lasted about 10 minutes, and then his representative gave me a smile and a wink to let me know it was time to wrap up so that he could say “hi” to people, sign some things and get back on his way to Indy.
When it was over, I sent the station to a commercial break and reached out my hand to shake Kyle’s and thank him for the opportunity to speak with him.
He took his headset off and immediately rejected my handshake. I panicked. What had I done wrong?
I had misread him because, instead, he hugged me. Not a bro hug, a good one. And in the midst of that he said, “Thank you for not trying to pick a fight with me or make me look like a jerk (again, my word. He used a much different word, but you get the point).
He patted my shoulder and walked away.
I doubt that he remembered that interview much beyond climbing aboard the helicopter. I will admit that I have tried and failed many times to analyze his words and what I should take away from them.
I will also admit that I had forgotten about that day until Thursday, when the news broke.
But I won’t forget it now, or ever again.
