As a racecar driver, Kyle Busch risked his life constantly. Yet his death at age 41 still hits hard.

Had the news come from the track, perhaps the sports world wouldn’t be this numb. On the track, Kyle Busch routinely tempted fate with his aggressive brand of driving. On the track, the risk of death was always around the next corner.

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Busch knew that. Everyone who ever watched or attended a NASCAR event knew that.

We were painfully reminded of it 25 years ago, when the track took the life of Dale Earnhardt Sr., who died after a crash on the final lap of the Daytona 500. If it could take a giant such as Earnhardt, it could take anyone. Such was the covenant between the athlete and their chosen sport.

But with news that Busch died Thursday soon after his family revealed he was battling “severe illness,” the punch to the gut lands with a different kind of shock, that feeling of what-just-happened whiplash that leaves you stunned, sad, and empty. Like Kobe Bryant, taken at the same age of 41 by a tragic California helicopter crash, Busch leaves the world far too soon. Perhaps he was on the back nine of his professional prime — Bryant had already been retired from the NBA years by the time he died — but Busch had so much living left to do.

He leaves behind his wife, Samantha, and two young children, Brexton and Lennix. The former was the subject of his last social media post, a love-filled happy 11th birthday message to a son already living a most physical manifestation of love: following in his father’s footsteps.

No wonder; racing has been the Busch family business for decades.

No one lived it louder than Kyle, whose brash, confrontational personality earned him plenty of villain energy, and more than a few appropriate nicknames. Wild Thing, Rowdy, or KFB (with that last one particularly resonant to a Red Sox Nation who long ago applied to it Bucky Effing Dent), Busch always backed it up. He was a two-time Cup winner and the record-holder for wins in both the NASCAR O’Reilly Auto Parts Series (102) and NASCAR Craftsman Truck Series (69).

But there was a drought. Busch hadn’t won a Cup Series race since 2023. So when he won his most recent race, in the Truck Series at Dover Motor Speedway, by winning every stage and leading 147 of the 200 laps, it seemed to mean more.

Asked in a postrace interview why the feeling never gets old, Busch responded, “Because you never know when the last one is.”

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You never know when the last one is. True in life. True in sports. Yet so easily forgotten in the day-to-day business of living, or in the heady excitement of competing. These athletes we watch, they are so amazing, so impressive, so talented. Larger than life. They can seem invincible.

But reality always finds its way back in, reminding us they are mortal after all. Boston knows it all too well. Reggie Lewis. Len Bias. Terrence Clarke. Johnny and Matthew Gadreau. The once and future stars of The Skating Club of Boston. Sports knows it, too. From my childhood, it was Thurman Munson. Or a movie about Brian Piccolo. Or stories of the great Roberto Clemente. Or the grace of Florence Griffith Joyner. Or fellow racer Greg Biffle, like Munson, downed in a plane crash similar to Payne Stewart, or Cory Lidle. Or perhaps the original saddest sports story ever told, Lou Gehrig. Each one leaves you brokenhearted, not just for the fact that they’re gone, but for the way they left.

Such it is with Busch. There are surely details about his death still to be unearthed, beyond the crushing details revealed in a TMZ story about the 911 call Friday, beyond the reports of a sinus-like infection that had been bothering Busch for weeks leading up to his death. Those will certainly matter, for purposes of closure for his family, for some sense of understanding by his fans. But truly, it’s the details of his life that deserve to go on, the way he was so devoted to Samantha and their family, one they had to fight for so hard, through a fertility battle that only others on the IVF journey can truly understand.

The Busches honored their experience by founding the Bundle of Joy Fund, dedicated to advancing access to IVF care and coverage, increasing awareness and providing support so others don’t have to navigate infertility alone. The fund has raised more than $2 million and has celebrated the births of 111 babies. Hard not to think how many of them might have grown up to be racing fans, flocking to the driver in the bright yellow M&M-sponsored jumpsuit, the one whose own life struggles helped make it possible for theirs to begin.

“Kyle was a rare talent, one who comes along once in a generation,” Busch’s family, his race team (Richard Childress Racing), and NASCAR said in a joint statement. “He was fierce, he was passionate, he was immensely skilled, and he cared deeply about the sport and fans.”

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He will be missed.