9 – Driven

In the past year, I have been to the following places to play games: Oxford, Hull, St. Albans, Harrow, Shepherds Bush, Cockfosters and Holland. The ability to pop off to these places at my own pace rather relies on the skill of being able to drive and having a car to do the driving in. I've probably spent more on petrol this year to go and play games than I have on actually buying them, but I don't mind.

Being a gamer who’s rather partial to driving games, it isn’t a problem. I’ve driven most stuff on the small screen: Ferraris in Outrun, futuristic things in POD, miniature radio-controlled buggies in ReVolt, Formula One cars in GP1, GP2, GP3 – oh, and GP4. thing is, I just can't stop loving this slice of the gaming cake. The principles may be more or less the same for all of the games, but whilst my credit card still obliges, I'll keep on buying them.

The cricket pavilion at Cockfosters. Sigh. Is it summer, yet?

Sometimes, my more serious bent of learning racing lines and clipping apexes for beating Schumacher at Monaco is less stressful that trying not to embed my Wavebird in the wall after being hit by a Blue Shell on the last corner of the last must-win race of a Mirror All-Course Championship in Mario Kart: Double Dash. Aaaaaaargh! Still, it’s helpful therapy.

Cars are something I have always loved. As a small kid, I spent far too many hours with my friends playing with toy cars and the brightest yellow track you could get for them. Our aim was always to see which one could travel furthest down the living room from a nice steep slope. Invariably, no matter what new cars mates brought along (Matchbox, Corgi, Dinky, Hot Wheels) the outcome would be the same – a Corgi Citroen 2CV would walk it. A 2CV, for fuck’s sake! Probably THE slowest car ever invented. How can this be? Here’s the ‘Dad Answer’ – it’s light as feather, with slim wheels that cause less drag over the swirly carpet. But you try telling a five-year-old that this abomination of a car was better then his recently acquired Porsche 911 Turbo from Hot Wheels.

”Noooooo! Don’t do it. Not the Tamiya!”

Having fiddled with Scalextric and then really fiddled with Tamiya radio-controlled cars, I arrived at seventeen years of age in the certain knowledge that passing my driving test would be a mere formality. The lessons were booked and all was going well, until, just weeks before my test was due, we had to move from Hull to Bedford.

So there I was, in a foreign place, with no friends and no money. The test transfer went through, and on the September 13th, 1989, I failed it. When I got home, I booted up my Atari and played IK for what seemed like hours. It made me feel a bit better as I imagined the opponent as the slimy examiner who was definitely a mummy's boy and lived at home even though he was well over 40 and had never had a girlfriend.

”I’m pleased to tell you that: ‘Milk, Eggs, Tea...’ No, wait…”

I didn't drive a car or have a lesson again for over a year. I had lost faith. But then I got a job after leaving college and they agreed to give me time off to get back up to speed and take lessons. This time, my instructor was a top bloke who spent six months of the year living in Sri Lanka – and he had an easy-to-drive Peugeot 205. I re-took the test on the November 6th, 1990, and I walked it.

I had done it. I could now buy a car and start to go and see places in my own time and at my own pace. Once you've passed your test you figure – that's it really, nothing more to learn. Maybe not. Six months later, I had bought my first car (cheers, dad, for loaning me a grand to get it). My white Ford Fiesta Popular Plus 1.1 was pretty basic, the stereo was awful and with only four gears, overtaking anything other than tractors was impossible. But it was mine.

”Do YOU come with the car?”… “Please, kill me”.

Three months after that and I was in training for Crash Mode in Burnout 2. With one cursory glance out the side window too many I had rather shortened the length of the Fiesta by about six inches. It wouldn't have got much of a multiplier bonus, though. I only managed to hit one other car. I'd be different now – having perfected the art of clipping one car to set off a nice chain reaction of destruction across the highway. Sorry, motorway.

No-one has yet managed to come up with my ultimate driving simulation – Night Cruiser. Every so often, I'll be driving late at night, stereo playing something perfect (usually Underworld), climate control set to neither too cold or too hot, and for that 30-45 minute journey, I am as contented as can be. It's like being in a trance. No cars to be racing, no checkpoints to be making, just travelling along at my own pace.

So get the Gamecube warmed up I'll be there in an hour…

ELY, January 2004.

Comment Here. (Its working again).

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Things to 'Make' and 'Do'.

Don’t be rubbish like Ely. Pass your test first time, with the power of hypotalizers.

Drive a Ferrari.

Or a Lada.

Drool on, with the Tamiya loons.

OutRun 2.

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