For most of the past year, Michael Jordan’s NASCAR team was known less for its on-track performance and more for where it stood in federal court.
23XI Racing, co-owned by Jordan and Denny Hamlin, had taken on NASCAR in an antitrust lawsuit that challenged the charter system and—in many ways—the way the sport will conduct business for the rest of its existence.
It was an aggressive approach in a garage that does not often welcome open defiance. The case created heated tension, drew public lines and forced people to pick sides, whether they followed NASCAR closely or not.
The trial was impossible to miss—on television, in the papers, on social media.
“Michael Jordan takes NASCAR to court” is too juicy of a headline to ignore, whether you cover the sport or not.
The case was settled back in December, with NASCAR ultimately siding with the teams and adjusting the charter system in their favor. Jordan and Hamlin believed they had secured a fairer path forward for teams like theirs.
Just days later, Denny Hamlin tragically lost his father in a house fire and reportedly had not been to the race shop until the week prior to the Daytona 500.
And then there was Tyler Reddick’s own hardship.
At the end of the 2025 season, Reddick’s infant son, Rookie, was in the hospital for multiple heart surgeries.
Many wondered why Reddick would even show up to the track given the circumstances.
At times, he wasn’t fully present. He was hurting, and he was there because he knew he had to be. Maybe the race car served as a temporary escape. Ultimately, his son pulled through, but the strain showed. The No. 45 team’s performance dipped in the 2025 playoffs, and Reddick entered the offseason determined to reset.
Daytona was the first stop on that comeback tour.
All of the offseason noise raised a fair question inside the industry: Could a team endure that much off the track and still return at the highest level on it?
Then came the Daytona 500. Speedweeks have a way of resetting narratives, for better or worse.
Everyone shows up tied at zero in the standings, and for a few days the focus shifts back to the familiar rhythm of a new racing season.
The race unfolded the way modern Daytona 500s often do, with early crashes thinning the field and a long green-flag stretch of fuel saving in the closing laps.
Reddick was not the dominant car of the day by any means, but he was there. He stayed within reach.
In the closing laps, the energy changed, as it always seems to do at Daytona. The field tightened for a final four-lap shootout.
Reddick positioned himself in the right lane with the right help. When the leaders tangled coming to the white flag and the track filled with smoke and sparks, Reddick drove through it in a way that would have made Harry Hogge proud, the Days of Thunder character portrayed by the late Robert Duvall.
He kept his foot in it, steered through the gap that opened and suddenly had committed help from his teammate, Riley Herbst.
When he crossed the line first, there was a brief pause before the reality set in.
“Did we really just win?” Reddick radioed, as the rest of the field spun and crashed behind him.
The Daytona 500 is not just another win. It defines careers and stamps drivers and teams into history.
Jordan stood on pit road, arms raised, grinning in a way familiar from his six NBA championships. The world knows Jordan as a chronic winner, and in the NASCAR world, that has not changed.
Just two months ago, he had challenged NASCAR’s structure because he believed it needed to evolve. Now he has the Harley J. Earl Trophy to go with that conviction.
For Reddick, the moment carried its own weight. He came to 23XI in 2023 to win at the highest level and to prove he could be more than a consistent contender. He has now delivered on the biggest stage in stock car racing.
Inside the garage, the win shifted the tone. It is one thing to argue about fairness and opportunity, and it is another to show you can capitalize when the opportunity comes.
23XI Racing did both, and did it right.
The lawsuit will always be part of this chapter in NASCAR history. It forced uncomfortable conversations about how the sport operates and who benefits. But on Sunday, that fight finally faded into the background.
What people saw instead was a team that had weathered scrutiny and still found a way to execute when it mattered most.
Lawsuits, tragic loss and heart surgeries—23XI Racing has been through the wringer the last few months, and now the light on the other side finally feels bright.
Daytona has a way of clarifying things. It does not solve issues for everyone. In fact, it often creates new ones. But it rewards the group that survives 500 miles and makes the right move at the right time.
For a year, 23XI Racing had been defined by its willingness to stand up to NASCAR. Now it is defined by something else, too.
Winning.
