The "Freeola Customer Forum" forum, which includes Retro Game Reviews, has been archived and is now read-only. You cannot post here or create a new thread or review on this forum.
Blackness. That's all he could see. One in the morning in early January; it was cold and it was dark. But he had to be there, by the garages near the field, waiting for his friend.
Dave had never been the brightest. On parent's evenings all his teachers could do was point out that he was quiet. A quiet boy. Not too interested in his class work; a dreamer. He was a disappointment to his parents - his older brother and sister had gone from strength to strength passing A levels and going on to well rated universities. He was struggling with his mock GCSEs.
Dave didn't have many friends, but there was one person who looked out for him. 21 year old Steve had two kids, a criminal record and a well of advice for Dave, his protégé. Tonight was a continuation of Steve's previous lesson - joy riding.
Steve appeared, his baseball cap casting a shadow over his rough, unshaved face. He asked him if he was ready, to which Dave eagerly confirmed he was. Steve disappeared again, calling for Dave to follow him.
The car looked great. Dark red, sporty, new and most importantly - fast. Steve found a way inside with alarming speed, and soon had the engine revving like a kitten. Dave got behind the wheel and breathed in that new car smell. He smiled, unable to hide his happiness. The thirty minute wait in the bitter cold was worth it.
Steve soon pulled up next to him in another car, and they drove slowly towards the usual racing grounds. Dave wasn't old enough to legally drive, but Steve had shown him the basics and he'd been driving stolen vehicles for weeks now. This was the first time he'd been in a car alone, it was also the most powerful car he'd ever been in, and he was about to race his mentor.
They slowed at the traffic lights. Ahead of them lay over a mile of straight track followed by enough twists and turns around the hill to make a hurricane dizzy.
The lights changed. The pedals went down. Both cars flew from their starting positions, leaving a stench of burnt rubber. They swerved around each other, going from lane to lane - the empty road was their playground.
20 mph... 30, 40, 50 - soon they were pushing 90, and still accelerating. Dave was laughing with glee. They slowed as the straight track abruptly ended and turned into a typical country road.
Steve was infinitely more experienced and soon pulled away on the many twists and turns, his back lights fading into the darkness. Still, Dave was going fast enough to make the passing scenery nothing but a blur. It took him several adrenaline fuelled minutes to finally notice the flashing light in his rear view mirror. The police. Scared, Dave put his foot down. He had to escape, he couldn't get caught - he just couldn't. He wouldn't let it happen.
The police tried to keep up, but eventually pulled back, unwilling to get into a high speed chase on the dark, narrow and icy roads. The flashing light faded away. But not in Dave's mind. In Dave's mind they were still there, catching up. He pushed the car even harder, the road becoming a streak of black and white. He had to get away from the police. They symbolised the disappointment of his parents, the insults of his older, more successful brother and sister, his school and most importantly - himself. He wanted to get away from himself. Tears formed in his eyes as pure emotion took over.
Dave's driving became increasingly erratic as he continued to test the car's limits. He was barely making the turns, scratching the sides of the car on the barriers and almost losing control time and time again. He couldn't possibly see the black ice on the upcoming corner. As the car started to spin, panic gripped him. Inexperienced, everything Dave did only made matters worse. The car flipped, crashing through the barrier and rolling down a deep gorge, smashing trees and anything else in its wake. The sound of crunching metal would be the last Dave would ever hear.
As they pulled the wreck back to the road the next day, his parents looked on in solemn silence. They could only think of how disappointed they were with him, with what he'd done. Dave had never been the brightest, but he'd never had a real chance. Had things been different, he could have gone on to live a full life; instead it was cut short at the age of 15. He'd been robbed of his life, some would say it was his own doing, others would blame his parents. Only Dave really knew.
Dave had never been the brightest. On parent's evenings all his teachers could do was point out that he was quiet. A quiet boy. Not too interested in his class work; a dreamer. He was a disappointment to his parents - his older brother and sister had gone from strength to strength passing A levels and going on to well rated universities. He was struggling with his mock GCSEs.
Dave didn't have many friends, but there was one person who looked out for him. 21 year old Steve had two kids, a criminal record and a well of advice for Dave, his protégé. Tonight was a continuation of Steve's previous lesson - joy riding.
Steve appeared, his baseball cap casting a shadow over his rough, unshaved face. He asked him if he was ready, to which Dave eagerly confirmed he was. Steve disappeared again, calling for Dave to follow him.
The car looked great. Dark red, sporty, new and most importantly - fast. Steve found a way inside with alarming speed, and soon had the engine revving like a kitten. Dave got behind the wheel and breathed in that new car smell. He smiled, unable to hide his happiness. The thirty minute wait in the bitter cold was worth it.
Steve soon pulled up next to him in another car, and they drove slowly towards the usual racing grounds. Dave wasn't old enough to legally drive, but Steve had shown him the basics and he'd been driving stolen vehicles for weeks now. This was the first time he'd been in a car alone, it was also the most powerful car he'd ever been in, and he was about to race his mentor.
They slowed at the traffic lights. Ahead of them lay over a mile of straight track followed by enough twists and turns around the hill to make a hurricane dizzy.
The lights changed. The pedals went down. Both cars flew from their starting positions, leaving a stench of burnt rubber. They swerved around each other, going from lane to lane - the empty road was their playground.
20 mph... 30, 40, 50 - soon they were pushing 90, and still accelerating. Dave was laughing with glee. They slowed as the straight track abruptly ended and turned into a typical country road.
Steve was infinitely more experienced and soon pulled away on the many twists and turns, his back lights fading into the darkness. Still, Dave was going fast enough to make the passing scenery nothing but a blur. It took him several adrenaline fuelled minutes to finally notice the flashing light in his rear view mirror. The police. Scared, Dave put his foot down. He had to escape, he couldn't get caught - he just couldn't. He wouldn't let it happen.
The police tried to keep up, but eventually pulled back, unwilling to get into a high speed chase on the dark, narrow and icy roads. The flashing light faded away. But not in Dave's mind. In Dave's mind they were still there, catching up. He pushed the car even harder, the road becoming a streak of black and white. He had to get away from the police. They symbolised the disappointment of his parents, the insults of his older, more successful brother and sister, his school and most importantly - himself. He wanted to get away from himself. Tears formed in his eyes as pure emotion took over.
Dave's driving became increasingly erratic as he continued to test the car's limits. He was barely making the turns, scratching the sides of the car on the barriers and almost losing control time and time again. He couldn't possibly see the black ice on the upcoming corner. As the car started to spin, panic gripped him. Inexperienced, everything Dave did only made matters worse. The car flipped, crashing through the barrier and rolling down a deep gorge, smashing trees and anything else in its wake. The sound of crunching metal would be the last Dave would ever hear.
As they pulled the wreck back to the road the next day, his parents looked on in solemn silence. They could only think of how disappointed they were with him, with what he'd done. Dave had never been the brightest, but he'd never had a real chance. Had things been different, he could have gone on to live a full life; instead it was cut short at the age of 15. He'd been robbed of his life, some would say it was his own doing, others would blame his parents. Only Dave really knew.
I just know that not ALL radgies/townies/scumbags HAD to turn out that way. I always use the example of my neighbour Phil who, when we went our seperate ways, went on to drugs, left school and now has a kid. He's only 18. His family was fine - it was his scumbag friends who led him astray.
An interesting take on things.
Well, this is obviously an fairly old story, since there cannot be a single road in the whole of England that would ever be clear-enough at one-time for "Boy Racer" to have this much fun...
I always thought "Boy Racers" were all the same, and that they only ever did stupid-things at stupid-things to look-good and improve their "cool", bad-boy image or something. I never stopped to think they could actually be trying to "escape"...
Very interesting, yes. Quite, how more isn't done to catch these idiots in the act, though, is beyond me...
I always thought "Boy Racers" were all the same, and that they only ever did stupid-things at stupid-things to look-good and improve their "cool", bad-boy image or something. I never stopped to think they could actually be trying to "escape"...
Very interesting, yes. Quite, how more isn't done to catch these idiots in the act, though, is beyond me...
Blackness. That's all he could see. One in the morning in early January; it was cold and it was dark. But he had to be there, by the garages near the field, waiting for his friend.
Dave had never been the brightest. On parent's evenings all his teachers could do was point out that he was quiet. A quiet boy. Not too interested in his class work; a dreamer. He was a disappointment to his parents - his older brother and sister had gone from strength to strength passing A levels and going on to well rated universities. He was struggling with his mock GCSEs.
Dave didn't have many friends, but there was one person who looked out for him. 21 year old Steve had two kids, a criminal record and a well of advice for Dave, his protégé. Tonight was a continuation of Steve's previous lesson - joy riding.
Steve appeared, his baseball cap casting a shadow over his rough, unshaved face. He asked him if he was ready, to which Dave eagerly confirmed he was. Steve disappeared again, calling for Dave to follow him.
The car looked great. Dark red, sporty, new and most importantly - fast. Steve found a way inside with alarming speed, and soon had the engine revving like a kitten. Dave got behind the wheel and breathed in that new car smell. He smiled, unable to hide his happiness. The thirty minute wait in the bitter cold was worth it.
Steve soon pulled up next to him in another car, and they drove slowly towards the usual racing grounds. Dave wasn't old enough to legally drive, but Steve had shown him the basics and he'd been driving stolen vehicles for weeks now. This was the first time he'd been in a car alone, it was also the most powerful car he'd ever been in, and he was about to race his mentor.
They slowed at the traffic lights. Ahead of them lay over a mile of straight track followed by enough twists and turns around the hill to make a hurricane dizzy.
The lights changed. The pedals went down. Both cars flew from their starting positions, leaving a stench of burnt rubber. They swerved around each other, going from lane to lane - the empty road was their playground.
20 mph... 30, 40, 50 - soon they were pushing 90, and still accelerating. Dave was laughing with glee. They slowed as the straight track abruptly ended and turned into a typical country road.
Steve was infinitely more experienced and soon pulled away on the many twists and turns, his back lights fading into the darkness. Still, Dave was going fast enough to make the passing scenery nothing but a blur. It took him several adrenaline fuelled minutes to finally notice the flashing light in his rear view mirror. The police. Scared, Dave put his foot down. He had to escape, he couldn't get caught - he just couldn't. He wouldn't let it happen.
The police tried to keep up, but eventually pulled back, unwilling to get into a high speed chase on the dark, narrow and icy roads. The flashing light faded away. But not in Dave's mind. In Dave's mind they were still there, catching up. He pushed the car even harder, the road becoming a streak of black and white. He had to get away from the police. They symbolised the disappointment of his parents, the insults of his older, more successful brother and sister, his school and most importantly - himself. He wanted to get away from himself. Tears formed in his eyes as pure emotion took over.
Dave's driving became increasingly erratic as he continued to test the car's limits. He was barely making the turns, scratching the sides of the car on the barriers and almost losing control time and time again. He couldn't possibly see the black ice on the upcoming corner. As the car started to spin, panic gripped him. Inexperienced, everything Dave did only made matters worse. The car flipped, crashing through the barrier and rolling down a deep gorge, smashing trees and anything else in its wake. The sound of crunching metal would be the last Dave would ever hear.
As they pulled the wreck back to the road the next day, his parents looked on in solemn silence. They could only think of how disappointed they were with him, with what he'd done. Dave had never been the brightest, but he'd never had a real chance. Had things been different, he could have gone on to live a full life; instead it was cut short at the age of 15. He'd been robbed of his life, some would say it was his own doing, others would blame his parents. Only Dave really knew.
Dave had never been the brightest. On parent's evenings all his teachers could do was point out that he was quiet. A quiet boy. Not too interested in his class work; a dreamer. He was a disappointment to his parents - his older brother and sister had gone from strength to strength passing A levels and going on to well rated universities. He was struggling with his mock GCSEs.
Dave didn't have many friends, but there was one person who looked out for him. 21 year old Steve had two kids, a criminal record and a well of advice for Dave, his protégé. Tonight was a continuation of Steve's previous lesson - joy riding.
Steve appeared, his baseball cap casting a shadow over his rough, unshaved face. He asked him if he was ready, to which Dave eagerly confirmed he was. Steve disappeared again, calling for Dave to follow him.
The car looked great. Dark red, sporty, new and most importantly - fast. Steve found a way inside with alarming speed, and soon had the engine revving like a kitten. Dave got behind the wheel and breathed in that new car smell. He smiled, unable to hide his happiness. The thirty minute wait in the bitter cold was worth it.
Steve soon pulled up next to him in another car, and they drove slowly towards the usual racing grounds. Dave wasn't old enough to legally drive, but Steve had shown him the basics and he'd been driving stolen vehicles for weeks now. This was the first time he'd been in a car alone, it was also the most powerful car he'd ever been in, and he was about to race his mentor.
They slowed at the traffic lights. Ahead of them lay over a mile of straight track followed by enough twists and turns around the hill to make a hurricane dizzy.
The lights changed. The pedals went down. Both cars flew from their starting positions, leaving a stench of burnt rubber. They swerved around each other, going from lane to lane - the empty road was their playground.
20 mph... 30, 40, 50 - soon they were pushing 90, and still accelerating. Dave was laughing with glee. They slowed as the straight track abruptly ended and turned into a typical country road.
Steve was infinitely more experienced and soon pulled away on the many twists and turns, his back lights fading into the darkness. Still, Dave was going fast enough to make the passing scenery nothing but a blur. It took him several adrenaline fuelled minutes to finally notice the flashing light in his rear view mirror. The police. Scared, Dave put his foot down. He had to escape, he couldn't get caught - he just couldn't. He wouldn't let it happen.
The police tried to keep up, but eventually pulled back, unwilling to get into a high speed chase on the dark, narrow and icy roads. The flashing light faded away. But not in Dave's mind. In Dave's mind they were still there, catching up. He pushed the car even harder, the road becoming a streak of black and white. He had to get away from the police. They symbolised the disappointment of his parents, the insults of his older, more successful brother and sister, his school and most importantly - himself. He wanted to get away from himself. Tears formed in his eyes as pure emotion took over.
Dave's driving became increasingly erratic as he continued to test the car's limits. He was barely making the turns, scratching the sides of the car on the barriers and almost losing control time and time again. He couldn't possibly see the black ice on the upcoming corner. As the car started to spin, panic gripped him. Inexperienced, everything Dave did only made matters worse. The car flipped, crashing through the barrier and rolling down a deep gorge, smashing trees and anything else in its wake. The sound of crunching metal would be the last Dave would ever hear.
As they pulled the wreck back to the road the next day, his parents looked on in solemn silence. They could only think of how disappointed they were with him, with what he'd done. Dave had never been the brightest, but he'd never had a real chance. Had things been different, he could have gone on to live a full life; instead it was cut short at the age of 15. He'd been robbed of his life, some would say it was his own doing, others would blame his parents. Only Dave really knew.