by Paul Woody , Winston-Salem Journal

Spectacular wrecks are part of the landscape at restrictor-plate tracks such as Daytona.

At its worst, superspeedway racing with restrictor plates on the engines is a dangerous endeavor, a catastrophe waiting to happen.

The Coke Zero 400 at Daytona on Saturday night was the best and worst of NASCAR .

The last four laps were spellbinding. Tony Stewart battled to hold his lead but lost it on a bold pass by Kyle Busch.

Busch was in position to win. Instead, he slammed into the wall after one block attempt too many on Stewart.

As if that wasn't bad enough, Kasey Kahne drove under the rear of the No. 18, lifting Busch's car off the ground.

And if that wasn't bad enough, Joey Logano plowed into the driver's-side door of Busch's car.

No one was surprised at the mayhem.

There was a similar ending at Talladega, another superspeedway with restrictor-plate racing.

Earlier Saturday night, a 13-car wreck put some cars out for the rest of the race and dashed the hopes of several drivers.

This is de rigueur in restrictor-plate racing. The plates prevent cars from moving at speeds approaching 200 miles an hour.

The field rarely is spread out. Instead, drivers circle the track in high-speed clusters.

Everyone knows that wrecks are coming. It's only a matter of when, how many will be caught in the ensuing mess and whether anyone will be seriously injured.

After every race at Daytona and Talladega, drivers leave shaking their heads in disgust. Critics wonder when NASCAR will do something about such precarious conditions.

Never.

Everyone should get used to this crash-and-burn mentality on superspeedways. It's stressful for drivers and hard on the cars, but it puts fans in the stands and viewers in front of television screens.

Critics can carp and drivers can complain, but no one will deny that Saturday's race was exciting, as was the Talladega race in April.

If the drivers think that the excitement crosses the line to danger and want change, they need to boycott Daytona and Talladega.

None have.

NASCAR has put emphasis on making the cars as safe as possible. Never was that more evident than Saturday night.

That Busch was able to walk away from the twisted wreckage of his car was just short of miraculous.

Twenty years ago, maybe even 10 years ago, someone would have died in that finish-line mess. At the very least, Busch would have been seriously injured, his season, perhaps even his career, over.

Instead, he appeared none the worse for wear.

NASCAR's emergency medical team insisted that Busch go to the infield medical center. Busch protested, but NASCAR's people were unyielding.

Good for them. Busch looked as if he was in a state of shock.

No one should be shocked that races at Daytona and Talladega are high-speed, high-risk demolition derbies.

That type of racing comes with a cost. One day, a wreck will occur, and a driver will not walk away.

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