With a Fifth Title, Bellemeur and the ‘Killer Bs’ Join TAFC’s All-Time Elite
When Sean Bellemeur was a six-year-old kid, barely tall enough to see over the tires, he used to peer into the cockpit of his dad’s Funny Car with wide eyes, dreaming about what it would feel like to stomp on that pedal, just once. Fast forward to today, and that kid hasn’t just driven—he’s dominated.
Bellemeur never really expected to become a titan of the sport. Even after his first regional win in Tucson back in 2007, he clung to that trophy like it was the only one he’d ever see. He just didn’t want to let go. But life has a funny way of exceeding your wildest dreams when you surround yourself with the right people.
Now, standing tall as a five-time world champion in the Top Alcohol Funny Car (TAFC) class, Bellemeur finds himself in elite company. He’s surpassed Pat Austin’s four titles and is now trailing only the legendary Frank Manzo. But if you ask him, he’s not “great.” He’s just the luckiest guy in the pits.
The Magic Formula of the Killer Bs
In drag racing, the driver gets the glory, but the machine doesn’t move without the mind behind the wrench and the wallet backing the operation. That’s where the “Killer Bs” come into play. It’s a moniker that strikes fear into the competition: Tony Bartone, the owner who provides everything needed to win.
Steve Boggs, the mad scientist tuner. And Bellemeur, the steady hand at the wheel. This dynasty didn’t happen overnight. Bellemeur started as a fill-in driver for Bartone in 2015, picking up a win at the Texas NHRA FallNationals.
That temporary gig turned into a full-time ride, and over the last eight years, they’ve racked up 46 more wins and five championships. It’s the kind of run that defines a career, yet Bellemeur remains humble.
He credits the team’s synergy. Bartone ensures they have the parts, the personnel, and the resources. Boggs brings a relentless work ethic and a resume that speaks for itself. And Bellemeur? He just tries to match their intensity.
A Season of Experimentation for Bellemeur
The 2025 season wasn’t just a victory lap; it was a science experiment gone right. Steve Boggs isn’t the type to sit still. After mastering the methanol game, he decided the team needed a new challenge: injected nitro. It was a combination three years in the making, and nobody, not even Bellemeur, knew exactly what to expect. They were venturing into uncharted territory. Then came the “shot heard ’round the world.”
During testing, the car didn’t just run; it flew. They laid down a blistering 5.28 at 283 mph. Even though the car was under legal weight for that specific pass, the message was sent. Once they reached legal weight, they reset the national record and tore through the early season, winning the Gatornationals and the 4-Wide Nationals in Charlotte.
But in racing, domination often breeds regulation. The NHRA stepped in, tweaking the rules and reducing nitro percentages to level the playing field. The car slowed down. For a team chasing a title, “middle-of-the-pack” performance wasn’t going to cut it. Boggs was frustrated. He felt punished for doing his job too well.
Returning to the “Glass Slipper”
With the nitro experiment hamstrung by rule changes, Boggs made a call that saved the season: they went back to basics. They returned to the blown alcohol tune-up that had already won them four championships.
For Bellemeur, it was a relief. “It felt like I put my glass slipper back on,” he said. He was home.But Boggs wasn’t just going back to an old tune-up; he was angry, and he channeled that frustration into the engine.
He promised Bellemeur he would tune the car with a “sledgehammer.” The result was a car that was on the ragged edge, demanding Bellemeur’s full attention on every single run. And it worked. They hammered out wins in Norwalk and Brainerd, fighting through freak mechanical breakages and late nights.
The Moment Victory Struck
By the time the tour hit Las Vegas, the championship battle had narrowed. It was down to the Killer Bs, Brian Hough, and third-generation racer Maddi Gordon. The tension was high, but the climax came earlier than anyone expected. In the first round of eliminations, Bellemeur won his heat.
Then, he watched the monitors at the top end of the track. Brian Hough, his main rival, lost traction and went out. It took a second to register. Bellemeur looked at the screen. He saw the cameras pointing at him. “Wait a minute,” he thought. “I’ve seen this on TV before.” The realization washed over him like a wave. He hadn’t just won a round.
He had won the war. Seeing his team scream and cheer in the tow vehicle was a moment of pure, unadulterated joy. There was no math to do, no points to calculate. The NHRA officials confirmed it right there on the tarmac.
Reflecting on Greatness
With five championships, the conversation naturally turns to legacy. Is this team the greatest of all time? Bellemeur won’t go there. He wonders how they would stack up against Frank Manzo at his peak or Brad Anderson. He thinks they’d win their fair share, but he respects the history too much to claim the throne.
For Sean Bellemeur, it’s not about being the G.O.A.T. It’s about living out that six-year-old kid’s dream, one quarter-mile at a time. He’s grateful to his wife, Ashley, his daughters, and every crew member who turns a wrench on that beast of a car. The Killer Bs have done it again. And as long as they let him drive, Bellemeur is going to keep living the dream.
