CONCORD, NORTH CAROLINA - MAY 29: Kyle Larson, driver of the #5 Metro Tech Chevrolet, waits on the grid during qualifying for the NASCAR Cup Series Coca-Cola 600 at Charlotte Motor Speedway on May 29, 2021 in Concord, North Carolina. (Photo by Brian Lawdermilk/Getty Images) | Getty Images
Kyle Larson will start from the pole Sunday at Michigan Int'l Speedway. (Brian Lawdermilk/Getty Images photo)

Looking Back On The Rise Of Kyle Larson

ELK GROVE, Calif. – Thirteen years ago, Mike and Janet Larson were at a crossroads with how to best nurture their five-foot, 75-pound speed demon.

Stay put in the vast land of Northern California, or uproot their lives and move – across the country, perhaps – to a richer motorsports landscape?

Their son Kyle had manifested something fierce when he started winning in full-blown, 900-horsepower sprint cars a few days after turning 15, and that talent had to be properly channeled.

Fellow California racers Bryan Clauson and Brad Sweet had recently moved to Indiana, the Mecca of open-wheel racing and an ever-expanding pipeline for drivers with lucrative dreams. Clauson set sail: turning open-wheel success into a NASCAR Busch Series ride with Chip Ganassi Racing at 19 years old. Sweet followed Clauson’s lead.

The Larsons were urged to board the ship as well.

“If you don’t get him to Indiana, you’re going to miss the boat,” Mike Larson recalled hearing from multiple people. “He’ll never make it, they said.”

More than a decade later, it’s fair to say Kyle Larson has arrived. A year after exploding for 46 wins across four dirt racing disciplines, the 28-year-old owns another baker’s dozen victories in impressive fashion this year.

He recently won four straight NASCAR Cup Series races: the Coca-Cola 600 at Charlotte Motor Speedway, on the road course at Sonoma Raceway in California, the All-Star Race at Texas Motor Speedway, and at Nashville Superspeedway. It would’ve been five straight races if not for a flat tire on the final lap at Pocono Raceway (Pa.) on Saturday.

In total, Larson’s run has amounted to 1,079 of 2,036 laps led over the last nine Cup Series races.

That doesn’t count his five sprint car wins, Lucas Oil Late Model Dirt Series romp on Jan. 23 and second straight Lucas Chili Bowl Midget Nationals triumph the week before that late model obliteration.

It’s been some time since motorsports has seen something like this.

But Larson’s success never hinged on a move to Indiana. The Larsons, too vested in California, too middle-class, and their son once too shy and dependent to live on his own, couldn’t afford such a thing.

“I wasn’t leaving my job for anything. No matter if Bryan Clauson did it. No matter if Brad Sweet did it,” said Mike Larson, who had to help his then 16-year-old son, who was bummed about forgoing the opportunity to race in the nation’s richest auto racing landscape, find another way forward.

That crossroads was the origin of Kyle Larson.

No Stopping Larson
Before and since his transition to stock cars, Kyle Larson has been a fixture in winged sprint car racing across the country. (Adam Mollenkopf photo)

“You’re going to have to focus on being the best you can be, no matter what kind of car it is,” Mike Larson told his eager son across a dining room table. “You need to be looking for rides in midgets, non-winged sprint cars, and winged sprint cars. If you can do that and be successful, and be good at all of those, car owners will come to you.”

Determination runs in the Larson family, long before it appeared on the racetrack. For 34 years, Mike Larson worked for the Sacramento Municipal Utility District as a meter reader and service adjustor. It was a thankless job, one that involved showing to households past-due on utility payments. It required a backbone.

“You have to understand that you’re dealing with people who are at their wits end,” Mike Larson said of that trade. “You might be walking into the worst minute of their lives. You did not want to trigger someone who might end up killing you … I’m serious.”

Janet Larson, meanwhile, served as an office technician for the state of California. With financial and retirement benefits firmly secured, moving from the Greater Sacramento region was never entertained, nor was the notion of raising a motorsports wunderkid.

The Larsons did relish auto racing, specifically area dirt tracks that attracted big time personalities: Leroy Van Conett. Jan Opperman. Mario Andretti. They were drivers who drove well, with charm and a personality to match, and they drew appreciation.

From 1968 to ‘70, Mike Larson watched Andretti race a United States Auto Club Silver Crown car yearly at the Sacramento Mile, before the series branched off to what is now the NTT IndyCar Series. It was right after Andretti won the Daytona 500 (1967), during the same timeframe he won his only Indianapolis 500 (1969), and before he took off in Formula One.

Naturally, the elder Larson observed the characteristics of each driver that came to town, with Andretti the most alluring. Little did he know it’d come handy as a father.

“That’s the category I’ve had the most appreciation for: the versatility of a driver,” Andretti said in a recent phone interview. “Why? That’s what gave me the ultimate satisfaction of my career. I can identify with that. I identify with [Kyle Larson] more than I identify with some others, [even] those I look up to. There’s something very special about someone who truly, truly, truly wears that love. How can you miss that?”

It’s funny, something that is unmistakable to Andretti was once missed by the driver who has earned 59 wins since the start of last year.

When the thought of moving to Indiana was nixed the summer of 2008, Kyle Larson tried to embody the words he heard from from his father: “We aren’t moving to Indiana. Instead what you should be focusing on is becoming the best all-around driver you can be.”

With only one ride in hand – a winged sprint car deal with the modest-but-loyal Dave and Debbie Vertullo – that required some phone calls.

“But they, [car owners], don’t know who I am,” Larson said, casting his insecurities on his father.

“You don’t even know who you are,” the elder Larson answered, trying to help his son understand his abilities.

Besides, flying under the radar isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

“When you make that appearance, people go, ‘Holy frick, how did I not know about this guy?” Mike Larson explained. “Then it makes you even more curious about the guy’s background.”

Slowly, Kyle Larson gained the confidence to pick up the phone. His doorway to driving versatility opened at that point.

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