We are closing in on the final handful of weeks of the 2023 NASCAR Cup Series season, the stock car series’ 75th anniversary campaign. To celebrate, each week through the end of the season, Ryan McGee is presenting his top five favorite things about the sport.
Top five best-looking cars? Check. Top five toughest drivers? We’ve got it. Top five mustaches? There can be only one, so maybe not.
Without further ado, our 75 favorite things about NASCAR, celebrating 75 years of stock car racing.
We’re not quite to the halfway point of our series of NASCAR 75 top-five greatest lists, but we can see the crossed flags off in the distance … or wait … is that a black flag telling us to pull into the pits and serve a penalty? Because after looking at drivers, races and cars, it’s time to turn the microscope on those who worked tirelessly to enter those drivers and cars into races by sneaking things past NASCAR tech inspectors. The crew chiefs and engineers who lived their racing lives in the gray area of the rulebook.
Yeah, I’ll say it. Cheaters. But when I say “cheaters,” understand what the paddock already does, that you can’t apply a stick-and-ball definition of “cheater” (see: Patriots, Astros, etc.) to a racer.
The greatest NASCAR teams and mechanics wear that title as a badge of honor. Sure, getting caught might lead to fines and penalties and embarrassment, but those are all temporary. The garage glory comes in the winks and nods and pats on the back from rivals as they say, “Dude, way to push the limits. I wish I had thought of that!”
So, grab a bottle of tire softener and a can of nitrous disguised as a fire extinguisher and read ahead as we present our top-five greatest cheaters in NASCAR history.
Honorable mention: Glenn Dunnaway
Poor Dunnaway went from historic hero to timeless goat in the matter of one postrace inspection — the very first postrace inspection in NASCAR Cup Series history.
It was June 19, 1949, and the 1-year-old sanctioning body was holding the first Strictly Stock event, the series that became what we now know as Cup, on a three-quarter-mile dirt track located just across the road from the current location of the massive international airport in Charlotte, North Carolina. Dunnaway, of nearby Gastonia, won the event by a full three laps, but inspectors ruled that his 1947 Ford was running illegally spaced rear springs, also known as “moonshiner springs,” that violated the rules of being a straight-off-the-street stock car.
Dunnaway and car owner Hubert Westmoreland — who had indeed made a moonshine run in that very car the night before — were stripped of the victory, and it was given to Jim Roper, whose name remains etched in the NASCAR history books as its first Cup Series winner. For the entire story, including the lawsuit that followed, read this piece from 2019, the 70th anniversary of the race.
5. Chad Knaus
The oldest saying in NASCAR goes: “If you ain’t cheating, you ain’t winning.” The NASCAR Hall of Fame is packed with racers who lived by that mantra, including the crew chief who was elected to the Hall earlier this month.
Knaus, who won 81 races and seven championships atop Jimmie Johnson’s pit box was (and still is) notorious for outworking and outsmarting his competition on the track and the tech inspectors in the garage. There is a fine line between innovation and rule breaking, and Knaus straddled that gray area like a Flying Wallenda tightroping across the Grand Canyon.
Still, he was suspended four times for four very different rules violations (he won back one of those via appeal) and was hit with a pair of $100,000 fines. In typical Knaus fashion, his team responded to the most infamous of those violations — busted for making an illegal adjustment to the rear window during 2006 Daytona 500 qualifying — by winning that 500 as well as two of the first three races while he was sitting back at the Hendrick Motorsports shop.
4. Ray Evernham
In case you were wondering from whom Knaus learned his playbook … well, here you go. Evernham rewrote more pages of the NASCAR rulebook than the people who actually wrote it.
No joke, when he became the crew chief for Hendrick Motorsports wunderkind Jeff Gordon in 1992, that rulebook wasn’t thicker than a pamphlet with a staple holding it together. A decade and a half later, when he finished his tenure as a team owner, that book was thick and bound like it was ready for a shelf at Barnes & Noble.
As the No. 24 Chevy piled up wins and championships, Evernham and Gordon were so dominant that their competition started frequently violating the unwritten don’t-air-dirty-laundry-in-public code and accused Evernham of cheating with everything from suspension parts to “exotic metals” to Jack Roush’s epic 1998 tirade on tire soaking, aka “Tiregate.”
Evernham’s Mona Lisa was the “T-Rex” Chevy specifically constructed to push the limits of the rulebook gray areas that was rolled out for the 1997 NASCAR All-Star Race. Gordon crushed the field. Afterward, NASCAR was so befuddled by the somehow technically legal car that it told Evernham to never bring it back to the racetrack again.
3. Michael Waltrip Racing
First off, there was never a collection of dudes working in a single race shop this century that you would have rather had beers with. Secondly, MWR won seven races and 14 poles during roughly 14 seasons in Cup, during which they also acted as Toyota’s first flagship program.
Unfortunately, that tenure started with a bizarre controversy during 2007 Daytona 500 qualifying when the MWR cars were caught with an illegal additive hidden in the fuel lines. The “rocket juice” was so blatant you could smell it as the Camrys rolled by in the garage after their qualifying runs. Later that year, Roush (I sense a theme here) accused MWR of stealing sway bars from his garage.
Then MWR was effectively ended at Richmond in 2013, when Clint Bowyer spun his car on purpose and Brian Vickers was told to pit, all to manipulate the outcome of the regular-season finale and help teammate Martin Truex Jr. make the Chase postseason field. The fallout was the most embarrassing in-race incident in NASCAR history and resulted in a record $300,000 fine, the removal of Truex from the Chase and an exit stage left by sponsor NAPA. Less than two years later, MWR was out of business.
2. Gary Nelson
Speaking of the Waltrips, here’s a guy who was calling the shots for Darrell Waltrip’s first big Cup wins at DiGard Racing and won Daytona 500s with Geoff Bodine and Bobby Allison, as well as the 1983 title with Allison.
He also became known for his not-so-legal innovations. Those included the move called “bombs away,” when Nelson would fill the car’s roll cage with ball bearings and buckshot so his cars would make minimum weight during inspection, but during the race he would signal his driver to pull a hidden lever, opening a trapdoor and dumping the 300 pounds of metal balls into the infield grass. Recalled Nelson’s last team boss, Felix Sabates: “I would see people after a race at Martinsville walking through the grass and tripping over those little balls, thinking, ‘Where the hell did those come from?!'”
How great was Nelson at bending rules? When legendary NASCAR technical director Dick Beaty retired in 1993, he hired Nelson as his replacement because “Gary was the guy who drove me nuts, but he also knows how everyone else drove me nuts, too.”
1. Smokey Yunick
Y’all can debate all day and night about whether we get some of the No. 1s on these NASCAR 75 lists correct, but not this one. Henry “Smokey” Yunick is the greatest mechanic who ever built a race car, and his cars treated rulebooks like they were merely a list of suggestions.
Yunick once brought a Chevelle to the racetrack that was built to seven-eighths scale to slip through the air faster. He filled roll cages with extra fuel. He inflated a basketball in an oversized fuel tank to make it seem legal when tested, then deflated it to make room for more gas during the race.
Angry officials once pulled one of his cars apart, including yanking the fuel cell out of the car completely and setting it on the ground, and handed him a list of nine items he needed to fix before he could race. He handed the list back, saying, “That should be 10 things,” and was somehow still able to crank it up and drive away. When those same officials later cornered him, demanding to know how he was able to cheat on fuel, he famously replied, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”
Yunick also holds 11 patents, including an early version of the SAFER barrier, and won 57 NASCAR races and two Cup Series championships as a crew chief and/or owner, plus the 1960 Indy 500. And yet, how much does Smokey’s name still rankle the feathers of NASCAR officials? He has been elected to nearly two dozen motorsports halls of fame but has yet to even be nominated for the NASCAR Hall.
Dan Wetzel is a senior writer focused on investigative reporting, news analysis and feature storytelling.
As victims go, Lane Kiffin doesn’t seem like one.
He could have stayed at Ole Miss, made over $10 million a year, led his 11-1 team into a home playoff game and become an icon at a place he supposedly found personal tranquility. Or he could’ve left for LSU to make over $10 million a year leading a program that has won three national titles this century.
Fortunate would be one description of such a fork in life’s road. The result of endless work and talent would be another.
But apparently no one knows a man’s burdens until they’ve walked a mile in his hot yoga pants.
Per his resignation statement on social media, it was spiritual, familial and mentor guidance that led Kiffin to go to LSU, not all those five-star recruits in New Orleans.
“After a lot of prayer and time spent with family, I made the difficult decision to accept the head coaching position at LSU,” he wrote.
In an interview with ESPN’s Marty Smith, Kiffin noted “my heart was [at Ole Miss] but I talked to some mentors, Coach [Pete] Carroll, Coach [Nick] Saban. Especially when Coach Carroll said, ‘Your dad would tell you to go. Take the shot.'” Kiffin later added: “I talked to God, and he told me it’s time to take a new step.”
After following everyone else’s advice, Kiffin discovered those mean folks at Ole Miss wouldn’t let him keep coaching the Rebels through the College Football Playoff on account of the fact Kiffin was now, you know, the coach of rival LSU.
Apparently quitting means different things to different people. Shame on Ole Miss for having some self-esteem.
“I was hoping to complete a historic six-season run … ,” Kiffin said. “My request to do so was denied by [Rebels athletic director] Keith Carter despite the team also asking him to allow me to keep coaching them so they could better maintain their high level of performance.”
Well, if he hoped enough, Kiffin could have just stayed and done it. He didn’t. Trying to paint this as an Ole Miss decision, not a Lane Kiffin decision, is absurd. You are either in or you are out.
Leaving was Kiffin’s right, of course. He chose what he believes are greener pastures. It might work out; LSU, despite its political dysfunction, is a great place to coach ball.
Kiffin should have just put out a statement saying his dream is to win a national title, and as good as Ole Miss has become, he thinks his chance to do it is so much better at LSU that it was worth giving up on his current players, who formed his best and, really, first nationally relevant team.
At least it would be his honest opinion.
Lately, the 50-year-old Kiffin has done all he can to paint himself as a more mature version of a once immature person. In the end, though, he is who he is. That includes traits that make him a very talented football coach. He is unique.
He might never live down being known as the coach who bailed on a title contender. It’s his life, though. It’s his reputation.
One of college sports’ original sins was turning playcallers into life-changers. Yeah, that can happen, boys can become men. A coach’s job is to win, though.
A great coach doesn’t have to be loyal or thoughtful or an example of how life should be lived.
This is the dichotomy of what you get when you hire Kiffin. He was on a heater in Oxford, winning in a way he never did with USC or Tennessee or the Oakland Raiders.
That seemingly should continue at resource-rich LSU. Along the way, you get a colorful circus, a wrestling character with a whistle, a high-wire act that could always break bad. It rarely ends well — from airport firings to near-riot-inducing resignations to an exasperated Nick Saban.
LSU should just embrace it — the good and the not so good. What’s more fun than being the villain? Kiffin might be a problem child, but he’s your problem child. It will probably get you a few more victories on Saturdays. He will certainly get you a few more laughs on social media.
It worked for Ole Miss, at least until it didn’t. Then the Rebels had to finally push him aside. This is Lane Kiffin. You can hardly trust him in the good times.
If anything, Carter had been too nice. He probably should have demanded Kiffin pledge his allegiance weeks back, after Kiffin’s family visited Gainesville, Florida, and Baton Rouge.
Instead, Kiffin hemmed and hawed and extended the soap opera, gaining leverage along the way.
Blame was thrown on the “calendar,” even though it was coaches such as Kiffin who created it. And leaving a championship contender is an individual choice that no one else is making.
Blame was put on Ole Miss, like it should just accept desperate second-class hostage status. Better to promote defensive coordinator Pete Golding and try to win with the people who want to be there.
To Kiffin, the idea of winning is seemingly all that matters. Not necessarily winning, but the idea of winning. Potential playoff teams count for more than current ones. Tomorrow means more than today. Next is better than now.
Maybe that mindset is what got him here, got him all these incredible opportunities, including his new one at LSU, where he must believe he is going to win national title after national title.
So go do that, unapologetically. Own it. Own the decision. Own the quitting. Own the fallout. Everything is possible in Baton Rouge, just not the Victim Lane act.
Closer Ryan Helsley and the Baltimore Orioles are in agreement on a two-year, $28 million contract that includes an opt-out after the first season, sources told ESPN, continuing the remaking of Baltimore’s beleaguered pitching staff with one of the most sought-after relievers on the free agent market.
While multiple teams sought to sign Helsley as a starter, the 31-year-old right-hander chose to remain in the role that made him a two-time All-Star and will hand him the ninth inning for the Orioles while retaining the ability to reach the open market after 2026.
Helsley, whose deal is pending a physical, is the second bullpen addition of the winter for Baltimore, which reacquired right-hander Andrew Kittredge from the Cubs after dealing him to Chicago at the trade deadline. With a moribund pitching staff, the Orioles went 75-87 and finished in last place in the American League East after consecutive postseason berths.
Orioles president of baseball operations Mike Elias trawled the free agent market for a late-inning option and landed on Helsley, who over his seven-year career has a 2.96 ERA in 319⅔ innings with 377 strikeouts, 133 walks and 105 saves.
Among the lowest points were the final two months of Helsley’s 2025 season, when, following a deadline deal from St. Louis to the New York Mets, he posted a 7.20 ERA and allowed 36 baserunners in 20 innings. Coming off an All-Star showing for St. Louis in 2024, which included a National League-leading 49 saves and a 2.04 ERA, Helsley saved 21 games with a solid 3.00 ERA for the Cardinals before the deadline, when he was sent to the Mets for three prospects.
Acquired to deepen a New York bullpen anchored by closer and fellow free agent Edwin Diaz, Helsley struggled badly during his time with the Mets. He blew saves in three straight appearances in mid-August and spent most of the past month working in low-leverage situations as New York collapsed down the stretch and missed the postseason.
Baltimore saw more noise than signal in Helsley’s downturn and is banking on Helsley’s stuff — which pitch-quality metrics rate as some of the best in the game — returning him to dominance. Helsley deploys one of baseball’s hardest fastballs, which averaged 99.3 mph in 2025, according to Statcast, ranking in the 99th percentile of all pitchers.
With incumbent closer Felix Bautista expected to miss the 2026 seasons following rotator cuff and labrum surgeries in August, the Orioles entered the winter with only right-hander Yennier Cano and left-hander Keegan Akin as veteran bullpen options. Beyond Helsley and Kittredge, Baltimore could add another reliever, sources said. The Orioles’ need for pitching help isn’t limited to their bullpen, either. Following the trade of Grayson Rodriguez to the Los Angeles Angels for left fielder Taylor Ward, Baltimore continues to pursue starting-pitching options to join left-hander Trevor Rogers and right-hander Kyle Bradish at the top of their rotation, sources said.
A fifth-round pick out of Northeastern State in Oklahoma, Helsley was a full-time starter throughout the minor leagues until he joined the Cardinals’ big league roster. From 2022 to ’24, he was arguably the most valuable reliever in the NL, alongside right-hander Devin Williams, a free agent with whom the Orioles spoke as well.
ESPN’s Bradford Doolittle contributed to this report.
One year from today — on Dec. 1, 2026, at 11:59 p.m. ET, to be exact — the league’s current labor agreement expires.
As the owners and players look to agree on a new collective bargaining agreement, there are major hurdles to clear and some key areas of disagreement.
Will we see a work stoppage in 2027? Is a salary cap coming? ESPN MLB experts Jeff Passan, Jesse Rogers and Alden Gonzalez field some of the biggest questions looming over the sport.
Is there any chance that the two sides could come to an agreement before next December’s deadline — and what happens if they don’t?
Sure. There’s always a chance. It’s akin to the chance that Lloyd Christmas had with Mary Swanson, but it’s a chance nonetheless.
The greater likelihood, if past is indeed prologue, points toward the league locking out the players Dec. 1, 2026. A lockout would shut down free agency and trades, as it did in 2021, and set an even more important, though informal, deadline: early to mid-March 2027, the drop-dead date for potentially losing regular-season games.
What happens between today and a year from today could have significant bearing on avoiding the doomsday scenario: that not only are the players locked out, but the sides cannot find common ground thereafter. The greatest threat of an extended work stoppage — baseball’s last was in 1994-95 — would come if owners insist on an overhaul of the game’s economic system to include a salary cap. Player leadership has indicated it won’t even entertain the notion of a capped system.
At the same time, the union and executive director Tony Clark are in the middle of a federal investigation into MLBPA finances that launched around May 2025. Any pursuit of a prosecution by the government could have a demonstrable effect on union leadership and, potentially, its positions in bargaining. — Jeff Passan
What is the timeline for negotiations between now and Dec. 1, 2026?
While the sides held a preliminary meeting this fall and could have more informal sessions over the coming months, bargaining typically cranks up during spring training.
At that point, the sides will begin to make their priorities clear to each other, and it will offer a better sense of the issues that are expected to be central to the negotiations. The most pertinent will be just how firm the league is on its desire for a cap.
The initial offers are important to outline the broad strokes of the negotiations to come. The most important meetings, however, will take place closer to the Dec. 1, 2026, deadline, with November the most vital month to establish where the sides stand before the expected lockout. — Passan
Who are the primary names fans should know on both sides of the negotiations?
For the players: Deputy executive director Bruce Meyer is the lead negotiator, Clark the ultimate authority. There is a 38-member executive board of players, made up of eight elected, high-ranking subcommittee members (Cy Young winners Paul Skenes and Tarik Skubal, plus veterans Chris Bassitt, Jake Cronenworth, Pete Fairbanks, Cedric Mullins, Marcus Semien and Brent Suter) and one representative from each team — the delegates for the rank-and-file.
For the league: Deputy commissioner Dan Halem is the lead negotiator, commissioner Rob Manfred the ultimate authority. The league’s labor policy committee — headed by Colorado Rockies owner Dick Monfort, who is joined by Hal Steinbrenner (New York Yankees), John Sherman (Kansas City Royals), Jerry Reinsdorf (Chicago White Sox), Ray Davis (Texas Rangers) and Jim Pohlad (Minnesota Twins) — is the proxy for the 30 owners. — Passan
How will the looming potential of a prolonged labor stoppage impact free agency this offseason?
Executives, league officials and agents are in agreement on one thing at this moment in the offseason: They’re simply not sure how things will shake out just yet in terms of spending. There are no grand predictions about the theme of the offseason, and the few early signings haven’t foreshadowed much, either.
Having said that, two emerging narratives seem to be prevalent. It’s business as usual for the annual World Series contenders like the Yankees, the Philadelphia Phillies and the Los Angeles Dodgers — and now we can include the Toronto Blue Jays in that category.
Phillies president Dave Dombrowski didn’t even hesitate when asked how the final year of labor might impact their winter.
“That is not something we talk about,” he said. “We’re going to proceed normally.”
You can expect the same from the Dodgers, who are attempting a rare three-peat in 2026.
Other organizations are waiting for more certainty, potentially in the form of a new economic system, before they jump back into serious spending. That might not come until after the next CBA is signed, which means that the looming end of the CBA will have some say in the offseason, even if it’s a small impact.
Chicago Cubs president Jed Hoyer admitted at the end of last season that many of his player contracts were designed to be up after 2026 — in other words when the CBA expires — in order to have relatively clean books heading into 2027 and beyond. Several agents and teams believe that cost certainty in the form of a new CBA — and, if MLB gets its way, a first-ever salary cap — will return spending back to higher levels simply because teams will understand their yearly costs more intimately after a new deal.
In the meantime, there’s a postseason and World Series to be played in 2026. And it’s just not the major markets that want to get a playoff run under their belts before things change, according to insiders. So look for free agents to do well in the market even with labor concerns percolating this winter. Yes, a few might take one-year deals, hoping the next economic system benefits them when they go back into the market — but there is certain to be plenty of momentum.
Agent Scott Boras summed it up when asked if spending would be depressed this winter, knowing what’s to come after next season.
“Historically we haven’t seen that, because teams always want to be their best,” he said. “The bottom line is teams understand they don’t have to pay players when there are strikes [or lockouts].” — Jesse Rogers
Will the battle over a potential salary cap be the primary topic discussed between owners and players in the year ahead?
There doesn’t appear to be much doubt about that. Economic disparity has been a hot-button issue for decades. The crumbling of the regional sports network (RSN) television model, which led to several teams losing out on local media revenue, has brought that topic to the forefront in recent years. And the unmitigated spending of teams like the Dodgers and New York Mets has only exacerbated the anger from owners throughout the industry, who continue to claim they don’t have the revenues to keep up.
Even Yankees owner Hal Steinbrenner recently downplayed his franchise’s profit margins and spoke out in favor of a salary cap. If Steinbrenner, who presides over one of the most powerful sports franchises in the world, sounds open to one, imagine how strongly his counterparts in markets such as Pittsburgh, Milwaukee and Tampa feel.
But the prevalence of free markets has been a tentpole issue throughout the MLB Players Association’s existence. Remember that, and you’ll start to understand how ugly this could get. — Alden Gonzalez
Which other issues will fans hear most from each side in the year ahead before the CBA expires?
A central issue for the union during the last round of talks was on how to get players paid sooner, a counter to the middle class of free agency continuing to dry up. As a result of the current CBA, minimum salaries went up, the prospect promotion incentive was introduced, and pre-arbitration bonus pools were established. Expect more talk around that subject in general. In all likelihood, MLB will once again argue that higher compensation for younger players needs to be coupled with a lower luxury tax threshold and will try once again to pair that with a salary floor. The MLBPA probably will say that steers too close to a traditional salary cap system, and on and on we’ll go again.
So, yes, economics will dominate — particularly with changes to the revenue-sharing model desired by both parties and potentially providing a path to an agreement. But two other topics figure to be front and center. One is how MLB implements rule changes. In the last basic agreement, the league secured full autonomy over the implementation of new rules. The union desires more control. And then there’s the subject of an international draft. The league wants one.
During the last round of talks, the union entertained the possibility. After a new CBA was ratified, the two sides gave themselves an additional four months to agree on a trade: The league gets an international draft, the union does away with the qualifying offer. They couldn’t agree by the deadline, but this will come up again. — Gonzalez