Garage a little bit country, or a little bit rock and roll?

Matt Kenseth is such a big fan of the heavy metal band Metallica that he even named one of his cats after the group's drummer. Dale Earnhardt Jr.'s musical tastes run the gamut from Elvis to Ludacris. Denny Hamlin likes a guitar-heavy jam band from his hometown of Richmond, Va., called Mozley Rose. Clint Bowyer's favorite group is Aerosmith. Kyle Busch listens to Godsmack, an alternative metal band. Carl Edwards' record label, Back40, has helped launch the careers of rising rappers and hip-hop artists from his home state of Missouri. Even 50-year-old Mark Martin cranks up the AC/DC.

Five things about ...

The truth behind artist Sam Bass' reaction to the Busch smashing at Nashville.

• Complete story, click here
• Blog: A smashing success
• Victory Lane: Busch is a hit

And yet, if we were to hold fast to NASCAR stereotypes, you'd think they'd all be devotees of Porter Wagoner. Oh, sure, you have your country music lovers inside the Sprint Cup garage; Tony Stewart digs him some Diamond Rio, and Kasey Kahne likes Rascal Flatts. But Busch's guitar-slamming celebration Saturday night at Nashville Speedway, and the somewhat horrified reaction to it, exposed one of the great but little-discussed chasms within the stock-car community -- fans are a little bit country, and drivers are a little bit rock and roll.

Of course, those are sweeping generalities, and they don't always apply. But the more traditional members of the NASCAR fan base were raised with a series that, under the banner of former title sponsor R.J. Reynolds, was country-heavy to say the least. The kind of guitar you heard over track public-address systems on race weekends wasn't electric, but pedal steel. Like Bob's Country Bunker in the movie The Blues Brothers, you had both kinds of music -- country and western. Meanwhile, the pool of competitors keeps getting younger and more geographically diverse, and these kids don't exactly come up listening to Martina McBride.

Which brings us to Saturday night, when Busch celebrated his Nashville victory by trying to shatter the guitar trophy made by Gibson and painted by Sam Bass. Now, anyone who grew up on rock music in the 1970s and '80s knows that nothing completes a Who concert like a rousing rendition of Won't Get Fooled Again, followed by Pete Townshend smashing his guitar to bits. He'd slam the instrument into a tower of speakers, swing it like a baseball bat at the microphone stand, hold it over his head while the ovation built and pile-drive it into the stage. It became the most famous, and among the most imitated, finishing moves in all of rock and roll. A splintered Gibson that Townshend smashed during the 1969 Woodstock festival is even on tour -- by itself. (Continued)