Blaney Had Perfect Lap At Pocono

By ESPN

The last lap of Sunday's race at Pocono was probably the most difficult of Ryan Blaney's career, and probably the most rewarding.

Difficult because he had never won a Cup race; difficult because his closest pursuer was a recent premier series champion; difficult because being chased on the final lap under such heavy circumstances often results in a lapse of focus, an anxious right foot or an ounce of conservation.

Instead, it was a perfect lap. A perfect lap when the 23-year-old needed it most.

NASCAR races are controlled or regulated using flags, that much is obvious. Not so obvious is the effect each flag has on drivers.

The green flag is greeted by drivers with enthusiasm and optimism. It signifies the beginning of the most enjoyable portion of a race-car driver's week -- competing.

The caution flag, yellow, can be a blessing or a hindrance depending on your circumstances and the stage of the race.

Each driver has been saved by a yellow during moments of despair, a tire going flat, or running on fumes and needing a caution to avoid a green-flag pit stop.

Conversely, if you compete long enough, you probably have experienced losing what seemed a guaranteed win by virtue of an untimely late caution flag.

Red flags create an impulse from drivers. What caused it? Who caused it? Are they OK?

I guarantee that whistled through the minds of most of Jimmie Johnson's and Jamie McMurray's colleagues as all the cars came to a mandatory halt after the red flag on the same lap both drivers crashed.

Being shown the passing flag -- blue with a diagonal yellow stripe -- is an adding-insult-to-injury moment for drivers.

You're struggling with an inferior car, then the flagman displays with aggression the flag that essentially barks to you, "get the hell out of the way," because the leaders are coming and are about to expose how slow you really are.

The black flag, which means NASCAR has a problem with you and there's likely about to be a penalty, is a kick in the gut.

When you see it displayed you quickly campaign for yourself, act as though you didn't see it. Surely it's a mistake? All the while you've let the secret escape because your lap time dropped a half second when you return to see it displayed a second consecutive lap.

The black flag often represents your day's demise. There's nothing encouraging about it.

Now the good stuff.

The white flag waving when you are the first to receive it seems brighter than any other time you witness it, and it waves the size of a bed sheet when you're the leader.

It's crazy how noticeable it is when there is nothing between you and the flagman, and it seems to wave longer than ever before; its primary objective is to tell you it's your race to lose, and you absolutely feel the burden of making that final lap after it's shown.

The final lap for a driver under these circumstances will differ depending on the margin they have to the second-place car.

If the distance between first and second is that of what Ryan Blaney had Sunday, you immediately associate the white flag with perfection.

You say to yourself, "If I can run the best lap of my day, he won't get close enough to affect my car's handling." You carry that mentality into Turn 1, identifying your braking point, turn-in marker, easing off the brake and sensing the right-rear tire transitioning from slide to gripping the track. You begin accelerating before the car confirms it's ready, and it's where the real driving comes in, from the middle of the turn to the corner exit.

If you execute perfectly, the next turn becomes less difficult. If you didn't nail Turn 1, then you invite more risk to the equation.

The final turn of the final lap for a driver seeking their first Monster Energy NASCAR Cup win carries the weight of the world and offers no discounts in terms of its emotional meaning.

You've worked your entire life for this moment, which tempts you to test the limits of your worn tires, or perhaps concede some of that margin to insure you won't drift high and leave an opening.

The last turn of the last lap separates you from hoisting your first premier series trophy, something you will proudly display for the remainder of your life, and it often requires absolute perfection.

Sunday at Pocono, in his 68th start, Ryan Blaney did everything right when it mattered most, and upon exiting Turn 3 of the triangular track, only distance, asphalt, and air stood between him and the most meaningful flag in our sport.

What an experience!