“I Lived on the Edge”: Bubba Wallace Finds Glimmer of Hope in Playoff Spots at Kansas Despite Denny Hamlin Clash Derailing Momentum

KANSAS CITY, Kan. — Bubba Wallace leaned against the hauler in the dim glow of Kansas Speedway’s sunset, his fire suit still zipped to the collar, sweat tracing lines down his face like the tire marks he’d left scorching the asphalt earlier that afternoon. The 2025 NASCAR Cup Series playoffs had just delivered one of its most brutal twists: a victory that slipped through his fingers in the final corner, courtesy of a hard-charging contact with his own team co-owner, Denny Hamlin. Yet, as the echoes of engines faded and the crowd’s roar turned to murmurs, Wallace exhaled a phrase that captured the razor-thin margin of his sport—and his survival. “I lived on the edge,” he said, voice steady but edged with the raw frustration of what might have been. “That’s racing. You push, you scrape, and sometimes you get burned. But we’re still in this fight.”

The Hollywood Casino 400, Round of 12 showdown on September 28, unfolded like a high-stakes poker game where every bluff carried the weight of elimination. Wallace, piloting the No. 23 McDonald’s Toyota for 23XI Racing, entered the weekend staring down a 27-point deficit to the playoff cutline after a dismal 26th-place finish at New Hampshire the week prior. His team had clawed back from early-season gremlins—ill-handling cars and strategic misfires that plagued three straight Kansas visits—to post a solid sixth at Darlington in the Round of 16 opener. Momentum, however, is a fickle fuel in the playoffs, and New Hampshire’s tire blowout had drained the tank, leaving Wallace last among the 12 contenders.

From the drop of the green flag, Wallace’s weekend screamed redemption. Starting ninth, he methodically carved through the field, his Toyota gripping the 1.5-mile intermediate like it remembered its 2022 playoff triumph here as a non-contender. By Lap 128, during green-flag pit cycles, Wallace cycled out ahead of Hamlin and Christopher Bell, showcasing the speed that had netted him a breakthrough Brickyard 400 win earlier in the season—his first on an oval outside the restrictor-plate tracks. Hamlin, in the No. 11 Sport Clips Toyota for Joe Gibbs Racing, dominated early, snaring stage wins with 159 laps led. But mechanical demons struck: a stuck throttle, then a catastrophic loss of power steering around Lap 250, forcing the veteran to wrestle his machine like a bucking bronco.

A debris caution with 15 laps left reshuffled the deck. Hamlin pitted for a slow stop—tires and fuel, but the power steering gremlin lingered—dropping him to seventh for the restart. Wallace, opting for two tires like several frontrunners, inherited the lead alongside Bell. The crowd sensed a story brewing: employee versus employer, ambition versus allegiance. Hamlin, co-owner of 23XI with Michael Jordan, had built Wallace’s career from Xfinity days, but on track, lines blur. Radio crackled with tension mid-race, Hamlin’s spotter urging a slide job as Wallace held the point. “Does he know he’s slowing us down?” Hamlin griped over the airwaves, a glimpse into the competitive fire that defines their dual roles.

Overtime loomed as cautions piled up—Ryan Preece’s Lap 90 spin, late-race debris—extending the 400-miler into double overtime. Wallace restarted third behind Hamlin and Bell, his heart pounding under the HANS device. The white flag waved, and chaos erupted in Turn 4. Hamlin, muscling his steering-wheel-less car high on the banking, drifted into Wallace’s left-rear quarter panel. The No. 23 snapped sideways, slamming the wall with a thud that echoed like a gavel. Both Toyotas hemorrhaged momentum, doors banging in a metallic symphony of regret. From 10th, on four fresh tires, Chase Elliott dove low, threading the needle past the wreckage for a stunning last-lap victory—his third of 2025 and a ticket punched to the Round of 8.

Wallace limped home fifth, Hamlin second, Bell third, and Briscoe fourth in the melee. Post-race, the cooldown lap became theater. Wallace, fuming, rolled alongside Hamlin and extended a single finger skyward—a universal salute of disdain. Cameras caught it all: the flip-off to his boss, a raw outburst from a driver who’d tasted the win but swallowed dust instead. Climbing from the car, Wallace marched to Hamlin on pit road, offering a handshake laced with gritted teeth before storming off. “Two years ago, I’d have said something dumb,” Wallace told USA Network, his Alabama drawl laced with fire. “He’s a dumbass for that move. I don’t care if he’s my boss or not.”

Hamlin, ever the strategist, owned the error without apology. “I got really close to the 23,” he admitted. “If I had to do it again, I’d run lower, give space. But winning 60—that’s all I saw.” At 59 victories, Hamlin eyed history, tying Kevin Harvick for 10th all-time. The contact, he insisted, stemmed from his crippled steering, not malice. Yet fans online erupted, dubbing it “careless” and drawing parallels to Hamlin’s New Hampshire wall-job on teammate Ty Gibbs. Social media timelines filled with memes: Wallace’s middle finger trending, hashtags like #HamlinWreckedHisOwnDriver spiking. “Denny’s always on the edge,” one tweet read, “but this time he dragged Bubba over with him.”

For Wallace, the sting deepened in playoff math. His fifth-place haul netted 50 points and four stage bonuses, closing the gap to 29 points behind the cutline—Tyler Reddick sits 11th at minus-26, Austin Cindric 12th at minus-48. With two races left in the Round of 12—the Bank of America ROVAL at Charlotte next weekend and Talladega’s YellaWood 500—Wallace remains mathematically alive. A top-five at the road course, where he finished seventh in May, could vault him into contention. Talladega, his superspeedway playground, offers wildcard chaos; he’s led laps there in every start since 2021. “We’re not out,” Wallace emphasized, hugging his crew chief, Bootie Barker. “That P5? It’s a glimmer. We fought an ill-handling beast all day, but we adapted. Hamlin took a shot at us, but we’re tougher.”

The clash underscores NASCAR’s peculiar dynamics: Hamlin as mentor, investor, and rival. 23XI, now in year five, thrives on that tension—Wallace’s Brickyard win validated the gamble, but playoffs demand precision. Off-track, Wallace’s candor resonates; he’s the series’ reluctant trailblazer, first Black driver since Wendell Scott to win in Cup, honoring that legacy with quiet resolve. “Racing’s about edges,” he added, eyes on the horizon. “I live on mine. And I’ll be damned if I fall off now.”

As crews packed up under Kansas stars, Wallace lingered, staring at the scoreboard. Fifth isn’t first, but in a playoff where four drivers fall after Talladega, it’s oxygen. Hamlin’s move derailed the momentum, sure—a win would have locked the Round of 8. But Wallace’s edge-sharp grit? That’s the real horsepower carrying him forward. The ROVAL awaits, and with it, another chance to turn glimmer into blaze.