In fairness, Franchitti was saddled with a second-level team that ran out of funding before the season was even half over. Funding had been an issue all season, since it seemed like Franchitti was running a new paint scheme each week.

He’ll be replacing Dan Wheldon, who will part ways with Chip Ganassi’s open-wheel division after this season.

Good on Franchitti. It’s a shame that he’s had such a miserable season. He qualified for only 10 races, and was almost never a factor. He had shown improvement in his final tries — a 14th at Pocono and a seventh at New Hampshire a few weeks later — but the money dried up.

But give the man credit for giving it a shot.

Franchitti (at right with fellow open-wheel expat Juan Pablo Montoya) had accomplished pretty much all he could in the IRL and was one of the few household names in that series. Short of making a run at a Formula One ride — and at 35, it’s probably too late for that — he had nothing else to prove in America’s top open-wheel series.

He’ll always be welcome in publicity-loving NASCAR, so long as he brings his megastar wife, Ashley Judd.

Could he have succeeded in NASCAR with a more stable operation? It’s hard to think that he wouldn’t. Driving skill is driving skill, no matter the discipline; it just takes a new terminology and some adjustment to go from open-wheel racing to NASCAR’s behemoth cars.

He showed that he could run well, as evidenced by the top-10 at New Hampshire. But there’s a large step between the occasional top-10 — which is currently the standard at Ganassi — than running consistently at the top.

If Franchitti were in one of the Hendrick/Roush/Gibbs/Childress cars, we’d have a better sense of what kind of success he could ultimately achieve.

Instead, he becomes the highest-profile driver to become a casualty of the difficult economy.

(Photo by Reed Saxon/Associated Press)

It wasn’t really even the last lap, just the clip of Busch coming off of Turn 4 in a tight battle with Kasey Kahne.
Busch was behind Ragan entering the final turn and took the outside line. He got out of sorts and managed to keep his car off the wall and off Kahne’s side. When Busch righted himself, he outran Kahne to the finish line.
In a few seconds, we saw the elements of what has made Busch, Joe Gibbs Racing and Toyota so successful this season.
In order: Busch didn’t have a winning car; he was no match for Johnson or even Greg Biffle, who was strong in second. Yet he managed a seventh-place finish; salvaging good runs on days when you don’t have the best car is a key component to the Chase and winning a title.
(And that shouldn’t be read as though Busch had junk the whole race. He was consistently in the top 20 and spent most of the race in the top 15.)
So, when it came time to move, Busch was in a position to do so. Beating Kahne for seventh ultimately means nothing to Busch; he’ll still enter the Chase as the points leader ahead of Carl Edwards, regardless of what happens on Saturday at Richmond.
Secondly, Busch got loose and was on the verge of wrecking. Yet he gathered his car and motored on.
Seeing such a move from Busch should be no surprise. He’s an aggressive driver and pushes his equipment to the edge; but his skill allows him to recover from situations like Saturday’s, which likely would have sent a lesser driver into the grass.
Moreover, he was determined to beat Kahne, even though it meant nothing to him. That’s also in line with what we’ve come to expect from Busch; he’s going to do his damndest to win everything – whether it’s a race or a smaller race within a race.
Lastly, when Busch got himself straightened out, he pulled ahead of Kahne in the last stretch to the finish line.
That speaks to the power that Gibbs has put under the hood; again, that’s nothing different than what we’ve seen this season. But it was curious to see it play out on such a small level.
Remember, Kahne had the inside line and took the final turn on that line. He didn’t have to deal with collecting himself, and he had the most direct line to the finish. In that battle, Kahne had the most to lose – he’s still looking in from the outside of the Chase – so it’s not like he could afford to give any ground.
Yet in that little head-to-head battle, Busch came out on top.
And yes, we happily make the admission that Dodge and Gillett Evernham have not been particularly strong this season. Would Busch have been successful if it were Jeff Gordon or Matt Kenseth next to him? It’s impossible to say, but in a sport that is defined by hundreths of a second, Busch’s victory was clear.
What he pulled off in the final turn was not as impressive as Johnson’s dominance or Biffle’s game effort to try to reel in Johnson. But it should serve notice that Busch was, and remains, the championship favorite.

That’s a welcome change. While most of us won’t have to worry about how hot it is or isn’t in SoCal — instead tacking in the action (or lack of it) from our couches — we should be concerned about driver, crew and official welfare.

Were it not for technology, Fontana and the surrounding area would be a mountainous desert.

So any relief that could be provided should be welcome.

The rub, of course, is that California now has an event in the Chase. It’s a net loss for the Chase schedule; with Atlanta moving to Labor Day, the Chase loses a fast venue that was a fair test for drivers (assuming, of course, that their tires hold up). In its place is a milquetoast, 1.5-mile track.

The Chase should be a difficult test. By sheer luck, NASCAR achieved that; it was sheer luck because it didn’t have to revamp the schedule to get the combination of races it has at the end.

The Chase should be a cauldron, a compressed schedule that features all of the best elements of the season: short tracks (Martinsville), mid-length tracks (Lowe’s, Kansas, Homestead) and superspeedways (Talladega). The road courses, to me, are negligible and don’t have a place in the Chase. The only gripe is that Martinsville is the only short track of the 10 events, a disproportionate amount considering there are five other short-track races on the regular-season schedule.

The driver that can navigate that cauldron best deserves to win a title.

But by exchanging California for Atlanta, something is lost. Yes, California and Michigan are different tracks and different elements of a car are needed to succeed there; but they’re close enough that it’s not a radical departure in the equipment teams will take to each.

Atlanta did provide a unique challenge: unbridled horsepower. It’s the fastest track in the Cup series, and races there test not only power but endurance. At Atlanta, you need a strong engine that’s going to hold up.

That’s true to a degree at every track, but it’s magnified at Atlanta.

Losing that will be a blow to the Chase in 2009.

• WE MAY SKIP OUT TOMORROW: Thursday night marks the end — for me at least — of the NFL preseason. The Redskins host the Jacksonville Jaguars, and finally, the games will start counting for real.

As usual, we’ll be out covering the game. My parents are also in town for a visit for my dad’s birthday tomorrow; he surprised me when he asked for tickets to the game. So we found a couple of StubHub and they’ll be there too.

I’ll try to get something posted during the daytime, but don’t be surprised if tomorrow winds up being an off day here.

(Photo by Mark Avery/Associated Press)

After some perusing on the always-valuable Racing Reference site, here’s a look at how the 20-and-under set fared in their rookie years on the Cup circuit. (The only qualifier for the list is that the drivers are still active somewhere in NASCAR, so this list skews toward recent years as younger drivers became more prominent.)

Casey Atwood was the next big thing when he made his Winston Cup debut at 19. He managed a top-10 in his third career race — the final one of a limited schedule in 2000 — and went on to add a top-five and three top-10s in 2001. But he slumped badly the following year (no top-10s) and was out of the series before the end of February, 2002.

Kyle Busch, like Atwood, was highly touted upon his arrival in the Cup series. He ran a partial schedule in 2004 at age 19, which yielded no memorable results. But as a rookie, he won twice for Hendrick Motorsports and had nine top-fives and 13 top-10s. Though he finished 20th in points, he set the stage for a successful stint with Hendrick and now with Gibbs, where he’ll be Logano’s teammate.

Sterling Marlin made his Cup debut as a 19-year old back in 1976, but ran only one race: He finished 29th at Nashville. But it would be seven more years until Marlin ran a full season in NASCAR’s top series.

Three years after Marlin’s debut, 19-year old Kyle Petty made his. He ran five races in 1979, the best of which came at his first race; he finished ninth at Talladega. The following year, he ran in 15 of the 31 races with six top-10s.

Reed Sorenson ran twice in 2004 but wasn’t a presence on the leaderboard. His first full season in 2005, at 20 years old, produced a top-five and two top-10s. (Sorenson, by the way, appears headed to a different team.)

Brian Vickers qualified well in his debut in 2003 when he was 19, with an average starting spot of 6.2 in five races. The finishes weren’t as spectacular, however (29.4). In his first full season in 2004, the trend continued: Vickers had four top-10 finishes but two poles.

It’s worth noting that of the list, only Busch, Petty and Vickers were running top-flight equipment during their debuts and full seasons. Busch, as noted, was at Hendrick, as was Vickers; Petty began his career at Petty Enterprises just as his father was winding down the most successful career in Cup history.

With that in mind, can anything be taken from these results? Perhaps. It seems as if Logano is to have success, it won’t be in the near-term. He’s scheduled to attempt his first Cup race at Richmond in a few weeks, where he’ll get his feet wet (though one could argue that his feet haven’t yet gotten fully wet in the Nationwide series).

Dealing with life on the Cup tour isn’t easy, even in a pure racing sense. Logano moved straight into the Nationwide series, bypassing the Trucks, which have produced some considerable racing talent over the years.

But even in Nationwide, the cars are more forgiving — a truism which existed even before the introduction of the COT. Logano will have good mentors in that regard, given that Busch, Tony Stewart and Denny Hamlin have all won Nationwide races this season. Still, it’s a transition best learned by experience.

Maybe Mark Martin’s praise will hold true and Logano will become NASCAR’s next shining star. But it’s a safe bet that stardom won’t be an overnight thing.

(Photo by Rob Carr/Associated Press)

How many instances must we recount?

That’s how it goes at Bristol.

Carl Edwards’ move in Busch’s 21st race there was neither vicious nor reckless; it was a simple tap that executed its intended function. It got Busch loose without wrecking him. It bought Edwards enough room to sneak by on the low side and take the lead.

Judging by Busch’s reaction, you’d have thought Edwards bump-drafted the leader going into the final turn at Daytona.

We’ve all seen the replays of Busch’s post-race bump and Edwards’ subsequent retaliation. (In case you haven’t, they’re here.) And if you saw that much, you saw Busch’s who-me interview a few minutes later (also included on that clip), when he casually referred to Edwards as Mr. Ed.

Look, we all know the reason Busch was pissed. It wasn’t because the bump was ill-advised. It’s because Edwards had the audacity to punt The Great Kyle Busch.

And Edwards was dead on when he wondered if Busch (TGKB for short?) would do the same to him. Edwards didn’t have to think hard; TGKB — for all his winning this season — has burned more than a few competitors along the way.

Is he still immature? Sure, but that’s not anything different than what his old Hendrick teammates have been saying for the past month. The simple fact that the normally reserved Hendrick drivers, Jeff Gordon and Jimmie Johnson, spoke out publicly speaks volumes in and of itself. You can count on two hands the number of times you’ve heard Johnson slam someone or something.

Perhaps a component of that immaturity is this: Bump a guy out of the way to take the lead? Darn right he’s going to do it. Get bumped out of the way to lose the lead? How dare he. It’s the standard Don’t Do As I Do mindset.

Perhaps that’s his M.O., period.

Winning and kicking everyone’s tail, as TGKB has done for much of the season, tends to mask such ugliness. It’s one thing to play the villain, as he’s done by counting the wins on his fingers in his post-race celebrations. There was a good-natured feel to it, a reason to give fans a chance to boo.

But clearly, a line was crossed on Saturday night. NASCAR had an easy call to make by hauling TGKB to the hauler.

Immaturity? Probably.

Or maybe it’s something larger. The downfall of many a great athlete began when he started believing the hype.

(Photo by Wade Payne/Associated Press)