Phoenix Racing deal could raise Kurt Busch from ashes

If I were Kurt Busch, I would change my name to Capt. Steve Rogers.

I would grow a mustache and insist on late-night TV that Dr. Jerry Punch, Maricopa County (Ariz.) Sheriff Joe Arpaio, Busch's former bosses Jack Roush and Roger Penske, fellow drivers Jimmy Spencer, Greg Biffle, Kevin Harvick, Robby Gordon, Jimmie Johnson and Tony Stewart (to name a few) and NASCAR fans who despise him also owe him an apology, because he is an "American treasure."

It seemed to work for Alec Baldwin on "Saturday Night Live."

On Dec. 5, Busch and the corporate-minded Penske mutually agreed to part ways, which means Busch was fired as driver of the No. 22 Shell Oil/Pennzoil Dodge in the NASCAR Sprint Cup Series. It had nothing to do with the Las Vegas native's ability to give the gas pedal a proper thrashing. It had everything to do with him cussing out Dr. Punch on pit road at the season finale at Homestead, Fla.

Busch's fuse is shorter than the ones on those dynamite sticks Wile E. Coyote received from the Acme Company. It now has cost him two of the top rides in NASCAR, as well as a sock in the nose from Spencer. Hopefully, Busch has learned that it is difficult to play Words With Friends if one doesn't have any.

While holding up his chin last week, Busch told a reporter that "Guys want to jump on my bandwagon and go."

Apparently this meant one guy, a fellow named James Finch of Spartanburg, S.C., who owns a Sprint Cup team called Phoenix Racing.

If one works in a place where oil filters are sold and NAPA Know-How is readily available, then one might have heard of Phoenix Racing. This is the team that Landon Cassill -- the Landon Cassill -- drove for.

When he was traded from the Seattle Pilots to the Houston Astros for Roric Harrison and Dooley Womack in 1969, Jim "Ball Four" Bouton famously was to have said: "You mean the Dooley Womack?" 

Phoenix Racing is to NASCAR what Dooley Womack was to pitching, what Rice is to college football, with the exception that Phoenix Racing has won one race in its 21 years, and Rice hasn't won anything of note since the 1954 Cotton Bowl.

It seems like a giant fall from grace for Busch. It seems like a giant fall, period.

And it was Busch who called Finch, not the other way around. Finch already had a driver for next year, David Ragan, now one of the contenders to replace Busch in the No. 22 car. If that happens, and Busch is willing to swallow his pride and grovel a bit, there might be a seat for him in the No. 51, though Finch is being coy.

"I told him I'd meet with him and see what's going on,'' Finch reportedly said. "I haven't decided who I am going to put in my car next year. He wasn't necessarily at the top of the list."

Wow.

Kurt Busch, one of NASCAR's biggest talents, has become more toxic than Hedorah -- aka "The Smog Monster" -- who once traded paint with Godzilla when Mothra, Rodan and Gamera the Flying Turtle couldn't make it.

What's sad is that away from the track, Busch is a patently nice guy. He's 33, which in NASCAR years is like 6. He has won 24 races, fourth among active drivers if one doesn't count Bill Elliott (a little active) and Mark Martin (semi-active). Busch still can drive the wheels off a racecar.

This isn't like Willie Mays playing for the Mets when he was 41.

But if Busch's story is that driving stock cars for the big, corporate teams has become a pain in the rear spoiler, this might be his chance to rediscover himself, to reinvent himself, to show the other car owners that he can go an entire season without cussing out a pit road reporter or upsetting a sponsor, provided Phoenix Racing has one.

If this ride is offered to him, he should take it. He also should tell the Acme Company that he and his kid brother need a longer fuse.

Las Vegas Review-Journal sports columnist Ron Kantowski can be reached at rkantowski@reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0352. Follow him on Twitter: @ronkantowski.