I contemplated becoming a race car driver in my early teens. If I made the move, I would have favored road races. I didn’t see the point of racing around an oval track. I saw it as a series of left hand turns. Road races were more my style. You made right as well as left turns. That made more sense. Races like LeMans value distance over speed. How far can you travel in a limited amount of time, rather than how quickly can you master the course. To be truthful, I never followed either one.
The closest I came to becoming a race car driver was slot cars. My parents bought me a slot car set-up for Christmas when I was fourteen or fifteen. A slot car is a powered miniature auto guided by a groove or slot in the track on which it runs. A pin or blade extends from the bottom of the car into the slot. I set mine up on the ping-pong table in our basement. Two or three times, Dad and I drove to a local slot car dealer that had a track as well as a plethora of cars and parts to sell. This was a chance to race your cars against other slot enthusiasts.
Demolition derby is another motorsport usually presented at county fairs and festivals. While rules vary from event to event, the typical demolition derby consists of five or more drivers competing by deliberately ramming their vehicles into one another. The last driver whose vehicle is still operational is awarded the victory. I thought that might be cool too, but I was too cheap to consider buying a car with the sole purpose of crashing it.
David and Michael invented their own version of demolition derby. They used Legos to build cars and invented “crash up derby”. The idea was to build the toughest car, one that was able to withstand the most violent collision. They built their cars, sat a few feet apart on the basement or kitchen floor, and propelled their car forward into the on-coming path of the car constructed by their brother. As long as the car could move, they crashed and re-crashed until a winner was crowned. Once the contest was complete, each rebuilt his car, and the process began once again. They did this year after year for hours on end.
They’ve never outgrown their competitive spirit. Several years ago both were home for a few days. They dug out the Legos and resurrected the scene from their youth. They each designed what they hoped would be the best car ever and took to the kitchen floor once again in head to head competition. They crashed and re-crashed until the last car was standing. I don’t recall whose car survived the ordeal. I do know the winner of the day was me, because I recorded the event. It’s one of the memories of the two I’ll celebrate forever.
While the boys on the NASCAR circuit make more money, they never had more fun than my two sons.