Weekend That Was: Chicagoland Speedway

Which Tony Stewart one meets depends entirely upon circumstances, mood swings that are at various times both predictable and impossible to predict, and perhaps even the precise alignment of all the planets in our solar system.

No one really knows for sure.

Will it be Good Tony? Or Bad Tony?

Happy Tony? Or Angry Tony?

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He reminds me of the pint-sized character in one of Will Ferrell's movies. No, not Talladega Nights -- but Elf.

You remember the guy: arrogant, obviously talented, in much demand, he's called in to save the day when all else goes awry at a book publishing company. He's both endearing and terribly frightening at the same time.

When Ferrell's character busts onto the scene, he infuriates the little guy by commenting: "My, you're an angry little elf, aren't you? Does Santa know you're here?"

Then said little guy comes across the table and kicks Ferrell's butt before storming from the room.

Anyone paying any attention at all to the Nextel Cup scene over the weekend witnessed the best and worst of Tony. On Friday, he was at his surly worst -- needlessly sparring with the media and ridiculously blaming them for all his latest self-inflicted troubles (read more).

Earlier that day, Denny Hamlin, Stewart's teammate at Joe Gibbs Racing, had spent a considerable amount of time spilling his guts to the media. Hamlin clearly was frustrated and upset about Stewart's handling of an incident one week earlier during the Pepsi 400 at Daytona International Speedway, as well he should have been.

Hamlin obviously wanted to talk. Stewart would later turn it so that, in his mind at least, the evil media somehow orchestrated it all, fueling the fire that he himself lit by first running into Hamlin from behind on Lap 14 of a 400-mile race and then by ripping Hamlin for not getting out of his way, among other things (watch video). He also accused Hamlin of trying to wreck him during Pepsi 400 practice a day earlier and questioned if Hamlin knew the meaning of "teammate."

The comments blindsided Hamlin, who refused to take or return a Stewart phone call later in the week and eventually called for a public apology that he knew was a pipe dream.

"Even if I was at fault," complained Hamlin, "he shouldn't have thrown me so far under the bus."

Well, he certainly shouldn't have thrown him so far under and then backed up and ran over him two or three more times. It was understandable that Hamlin was upset. It also should have been understandable to Stewart that he then would in turn be asked about all things Hamlin -- the kid's emotional state, the Stewart-related comments Hamlin had made, whether or not the two had talked as Hamlin said they needed to.

Yet Stewart acted like the whole ordeal was a media creation. He didn't want to talk about it -- when all he had to say to defuse the situation was that maybe he hadn't handled it in the best manner and, yes, he intended to talk with Hamlin about it. In other words, all he had to do was tell the truth.

Instead, Bad Tony wanted to spar -- verbally.

Asked what the difference was between talking about the Hamlin incident on his national radio show and discussing it with the group of media in front of him at the time, Stewart snapped: "Because I choose to do it there. I don't choose to do it with this group of people." (Continued)