Brad Keselowski, the 2012 NASCAR Cup Series champion and the resilient leader of RFK Racing, faced yet another heart-wrenching setback during the 2025 season at Kansas Speedway, leaving fans, rivals, and analysts grappling with disbelief. On Sunday, May 12, as the roar of engines vibrated through Kansas’s 1.5-mile oval, Keselowski showcased glimpses of his trademark speed, hope briefly flickering among supporters that a revival was on the horizon. However, a late-race crash not only dashed his renaissance but encapsulated the agonizing string of bad luck haunting him all year. Battling through crashes, mechanical gremlins, and a string of DNFs, Keselowski’s perseverance stands in stark contrast to the cruel misfortunes repeatedly knocking him out of contention in what’s become a season defined by relentless adversity.
For an accomplished veteran like Brad Keselowski, the events unfolding in 2025 defy expectation and logic. The Kansas race, which ended in a crushing DNF after his Ford was skittered into the wall by a sudden flat tire, sums up a year of frustration and hope swiftly extinguished. Leading into the race, Keselowski and his RFK crew had gambled with aggressive car setups—potential adaptations in tire pressures and suspension, attempts aimed at wringing out competitive speed in an intensely competitive field. Yet, those tweaks seem to have ushered in just as many gremlins as gains, contributing to the cruel narrative playing out for both Keselowski and his team. With his points position languishing well below his established standard, Kansas represented a desperate push for a turning point—one that ultimately crumbled in seconds.
The Kansas Speedway is notorious for its high-octane environment and demanding surface, which together create unpredictable, tire-eating races. This setting provided a glimmer of optimism, as Keselowski found himself surging up the rankings midway through the event. Displaying what many called “vintage form,” he navigated the bustling pack with confidence, and as the laps ticked by, he surged into second place during stage 3. The momentum shift was so palpable that fans, whose patience had been tested by months of dashed expectations, began to sense the winds might be changing. Confidence among supporters grew as Keselowski’s lap times outshined the field. For a fleeting sequence, it appeared Kansas could be the day of his redemption.
But the euphoria evaporated without warning. Approaching the final laps, Keselowski’s No. 6 Ford abruptly shot towards the outer wall after a catastrophic tire failure, sending sparks and shattered dreams across the track. The television broadcast captured a collective gasp as fans and commentators watched a season’s worth of heartbreak compressed into one crushing moment. On the PRN Live show, analysts Doug Rice and Alexis Erickson described the devastation.
“There was one point in this race where hopes were high for Brad Keselowski, who has had a miserable year,”
Rice recounted.
“And as soon as we say, look at him go, he’s second, he’s gaining on the leaders, then all that disappears.”
Erickson echoed the collective disappointment:
“He’s had such a terrible year to see him running in second. You’re like, oh great, Brad Keselowski’s finally having a good day. And then smack, he’s in the wall.”
The Kansas incident became the tragic emblem for Keselowski’s embattled 2025 campaign.
The dramatic crash was not an isolated issue, but rather the latest in a relentless cycle of racing misfortune. Undercurrents of debate swirl around the question of whether the cause was simply bad luck or a consequence of bold technical gambles. Speculation from fans and industry insiders quickly centered on tire pressure strategies—running lower pressures can deliver short-term speed yet leave tires more vulnerable to failure. Keselowski’s team, like several others over the weekend, grappled with balancing aggression and reliability.
“I don’t really know. I’m not an engineer. I wasn’t able to diagnose what happened,”
Erickson admitted.
“That could also be the reason why they had that speed because they were kind of teetering on… what was appropriate for the tire air pressures. But still, when you think about Brad and you think about him as a veteran and what he’s gone through this year, it was a bit of a blow.”
For Brad Keselowski, each DNF is more than a statistic. It’s a hurdle stacked atop months of effort, a physical manifestation of the conflict between relentless pursuit and an uncooperative reality. Even beyond Kansas, his path has been dogged by disaster. The previous week at Texas, he once again showed competitive speed before an incident, outside of his control, ended his charge prematurely. This unfortunate streak hasn’t only caught the attention of his own camp—it’s spurred commentary throughout the NASCAR community. Dale Earnhardt Jr., speaking after Texas on his podcast, the Dale Jr. Download, jokingly proposed a supernatural solution:
“Are you gonna get a holy man in there? You need to bring somebody in there with the stones and the salt and all that… change the energy. Y’all need to have an exorcist.”
Behind the lighthearted jab lies a real sense of bafflement at the sheer scale of chaos and the emotional toll it has taken on RFK Racing.
For RFK Racing, the wider effects of these disconnects are clear. With Chris Buescher, Keselowski’s teammate, also trapped in a frustrating slump, the team has fallen far short of preseason expectations. Pit road mistakes, near-misses, and an unusual concentration of mechanical issues have left both drivers and their crews searching for answers as the regular season approaches its midpoint. The atmosphere within the organization is a mix of reflection and resolve, tinged by the recent loss of beloved team member Daniel Allor II. Keselowski spoke openly about channeling that loss into renewed determination, making it clear that the fight for improvement now carries a deeply personal edge.
The Kansas race may have ended in devastation, but it also contained fleeting but meaningful evidence of progress. Keselowski entered the AdventHealth 400 mired in a twelve-race top-10 drought but showed immediate intent, overcoming a poor qualifying run to methodically climb through the field. Trading positions with established leaders like Kyle Larson, Keselowski appeared poised to parlay newfound performance into a much-needed breakthrough. Even after disaster struck, his outlook remained strikingly positive:
“We put ourselves in position like that, you win races,”
he commented after the wreck, his determination unshaken. Regarding the state of the No. 6 team, he added,
“This is a pretty significant overhaul of the #6 team from where we were last year. There are some pieces that are starting to click… Today was a step forward, even though the finishing order’s not gonna show it.”
This blend of frustration and hope defines Brad Keselowski’s approach as he looks towards the season’s next chapters. The All-Star Race at North Wilkesboro looms as an important opportunity to fine-tune setups and morale before the high-profile Coca-Cola 600 at Charlotte—a venue where Keselowski holds past victories and carries extra motivation. He projects his signature tenacity when discussing upcoming ambitions:
“Bring cars and speed like this to the Coke 600 and let’s go win it.”
While the climb remains daunting, Keselowski’s resolve is sustained by the knowledge that a single race can turn fortunes and that adversity is, in part, what sets champions apart.
Among fans and analysts, the story of Brad Keselowski’s 2025 season conjures both empathy and anxiety, sparking questions about the limits of resilience in the face of repeated heartbreak. Can Keselowski’s drive and experience finally overcome the brutal streak that’s made him a symbol of bad luck this year, or is 2025 destined to slip away as a lost cause? Social media, fan forums, and race-day broadcasts hum with speculation and opinions, a testament to the profound impact his struggles have had on the wider NASCAR community. As some observers point out, the sport’s greatest figures are often forged not in triumph alone, but by their ability to endure and respond to hardship.
There remains a wild card embedded in the RFK Racing strategy: both the chemistry between Keselowski, Buescher, and the team, and the organization’s ability to find answers under pressure. If any group can catalyze a turnaround, it’s one led by a driver renowned for his analytical mind, fierce competitiveness, and growing sense of perspective. Evidence from Kansas, for all its pain, suggests RFK is edging closer to competitiveness. Both cars were strong in stretches, and with incremental improvements, the gap to the front may finally start to shrink.
The effect on the championship picture is undeniable. With each missed opportunity, Keselowski’s playoff hopes face steeper odds. A season that began with realistic hopes of returning to winning ways now teeters on the edge, each upcoming race taking on amplified importance. The team’s recent moments of pace, whether in race runs or fleeting charges through the field, have been offset by cruel timing and technical breakdowns. Yet the door isn’t closed; the points structure and unpredictable nature of NASCAR leave some hope, but the margin for error has been nearly erased. For Keselowski and his supporters, the message is clear: every race is a fresh canvas, but time is quickly running short.
Beyond immediate results, Brad Keselowski’s ongoing saga in 2025 is a powerful illustration of the emotional stakes running through motorsports. The high expectations placed on team leaders, both as drivers and owners, mean setbacks hit doubly hard. Few drivers in the garage know adversity as intimately as Keselowski—a quality that, paradoxically, may be his greatest asset as he seeks a late-season rebound. Whether he succeeds or simply fights to keep hope alive, his journey stands as a compelling narrative in the ever-unfolding drama of the NASCAR Cup Series.
In the weeks ahead, the question lingers: can Brad Keselowski outdrive the curse that has shadowed his every move, or will the dark cloud hanging over the No. 6 team cement this year’s legacy as one of frustration? For his fans, each green-flag drop is a chance to believe anew. For Keselowski himself, the pursuit continues, each lap a test of character as much as speed. The heartbreak at Kansas may come to define his 2025 campaign, but the story is unfinished. As the circus rolls onward to Charlotte and beyond, NASCAR’s eyes remain fixed on Brad Keselowski, wondering if perseverance can finally outlast misfortune—or if fate has more twists in store.
