Revved Up

It was my friend Burke’s idea to enter Mazda’s Rev It Up program when it came to town in May. For $40, Rev It Up gives you some driving instruction, followed by the chance to take two timed laps in a Mazda 3 on a twisty race course set up at the Weymouth Naval Air Station. Seven of us signed up, and the e-mail trash-talking commenced.

“You’re so slow, you should leave now,” I wrote to Burke. “You’re so slow, you’re going to get your race instruction from a Shriner. They’re going to measure your laps in sea turtle life spans. Mazda’s going to start a special program for you called Give It Up.” Burke replied that I’d be too worried about keeping my combover in place to concentrate on driving. Burke’s friend Dan chimed in with, “Speed is my mistress and she’ll be riding with me on the 24th,” which would have been a better boast if the race hadn’t been on the 23rd.

The day of the competition, Clay earned a Did Not Finish before we even left Boston, since he was without his wallet and driver’s license. There’s a story behind why he didn’t have his wallet, but it’s a little embarrassing and he asked me not to write about it. So let’s just say he got beat up by a transvestite hooker and move on.

When we arrived at the event and picked up our registration badges, I noticed Murph’s said “Fun” and mine said “Pro.” Murph explained that there were four competition classes based on driving experience, with Fun at the bottom and Pro at the top. I didn’t know this because I’d let Burke sign me up, the dick. Now I’d be competing against the elite drivers while everyone else was timed against the dubs. To get some extra practice, I wandered over to the Beat the Crap out of Some Mazdas Center.

The Beat the Crap out of Some Mazdas Center (or, as Mazda likes to call it, the “Mazda Drive Center”) was a separate track where you could take Mazda’s other vehicles for a test drive. I don’t think you were actually supposed to drive as fast as you could at the Mazda Drive Center, but a stallion like myself doesn’t take slow for an answer. Thus, Clay and I climbed into a lowly base-model Mazda 3, and I proceeded to drive it like it had talked smack about my momma. After flying through the moose-avoidance chicane with the hammer down, I got on the brakes for a right-hand turn and…plowed off the course, making roadkill of a plastic cone. But you’ve got to get back on that horse, so I drove back onto the track and completed the rest of my lap at a similar velocity.

When we got in, a Mazda Rev It Up official strode over and glared at me as if I’d just run down a village of helpless peasants with a monster truck. He was on the short side, and looked like the kind of former jock who would make for a sadistic summer-camp counselor. I decided to break the ice: “Hi!” I said. “What was that all about?” he demanded. I gave him the logical explanation: It was the car’s fault. The brakes felt like they were made of cheese, bro. And not even a hard cheese like Parmesan. We’re talking warm Brie fondue. I’m just a good ol’ boy. Never meaning no harm. “You’re done here. You’re done,” he spat. Clay walked away, laughing for the first time all day. Mr. Chud was poised for confrontation, but I just said, “OK,” and walked away feeling quite pleased with myself. Banned from the Mazda Drive Center for recklessness: I’m a bad boy.

So who won? Well, my best time around the course was 29.7 seconds, about two seconds off the day’s best time but a second or two ahead of everyone I arrived with (Murph came close with a run in the 30-second range, but was fined four seconds on two counts of coneslaughter). In fact, if I’d been in the Fun class instead of Pro, I would’ve been in third place on the leader board, a fact I pointed out to Burke. “But you wouldn’t have been in the Fun class!” he said. “You had professional driving instruction before this, so you’d be in Novice, where you wouldn’t even be in the top 15!” I beg to differ. I would’ve been in the Fun class, because I would’ve lied about my driving experience on the questionnaire. If it asked, “have you ever driven a car on a track before?” I would’ve answered, “What’s a car?” I love competing against the disadvantaged; if there was a place where I could arm-wrestle second-graders, I’d be there every day. And if that seems unsportsmanlike, talk to the two guys in the Fun class who beat me. ∂