If you know me, then you probably know how much I am into the idea of a race car. I am a sucker for the speed machine. Who isn’t? They are just so damn cool. The way they look, the sound, the sheer presence of it is absolutely scintillating. Anyone who has had the privilege of being around one would know what I am on about. The Castrol and cigarette liveries glued on to the alluring body-work only shoots the desirability factor right through the roof. I am not talking about road cars here. They are great. But I think they are compromised in terms of performance and you need to look into the world of racing if you want a complete package. Now don’t get me wrong. I am talking about that vicious raw factor that I just don’t think any road car possess, irrespective of how many kilos you shave off those bucket seats you paid another million quid for.
Race cars just seem to be those bad boys who just don’t care about the world. And there is something oddly satisfying about that, I think. I think that they are proof that when the rule book is thrown out of the window some truly amazing beasts can come out of the drawing book. So over the span of the next few weeks, I am gonna write about my all time favourite racers.
Spoiler alert. Haha!