- 495
- AERO_HDT
- AERO_HDT
I had a race with a fellow Aussie the other night. It was a No Mercy Event at Suzuka.
It was quiet.
There was me, there was this fellow Aussie (whom I'd never met before) and an Frenchman who was in a Ferrari California.
I was in a Ford GT (not LM Spec) and my fellow countryman was in a Subaru WRX STi (the old ones).
Anyways, the race started off with me getting swallowed by both the Subie and the Cali, the Ford building up pace slowly whilst the other two rocketed into turn one. I watched with baited breath, as neighbour from Adelaide proceeded to take the lead into turn one, the Ferrari driver hot on his heels. I was perhaps three or four car lengths behind, certainly in no hurry and certainly not in a hurry to engage myself in this tussle between a Frenchman and an Aussie whom I'd never met.
You see, I was not taking the race seriously. Why?
Well the chap in the Ferrari was only at 625PP and the gentleman from the City of Churches was running a 640PP Subaru. I knew that I had the pace to outrun both of them and I was merely content to sit back and watch both drivers dice it out.
My viewing pleasure came to a premature end as on Turn 3, the Frenchman, pushing his Ferrari ever so hard, slid off into the sandtrap. That left me and the Subaru to dice it out for the next five laps.
I watched the Adelaidian fellow pull some stunning drifts up through the S-bends and all the while, I was following, admiring his car control, wondering how long could he keep it together. I was running the Ford at about 75 percent, coasting most of the way and braking very early, keeping it all tidy and just laying in wait. I'd seen guys like this before. They were knife-edge drivers. One mistake and they'd be finished.
One corner. Two corners. Three! FOUR corners! He kept yanking on the handbrake and pulling these amazing four wheel drifts. And whilst I choked on gram after gram of Bridgestone rubber, I wondered how much longer he could keep up the Tokyo Drift for.
I was miles quicker and I knew it, but I was happy to watch, it was only first lap and I figured he was showboating and not taking the race seriously. After the Frenchman dropped out, I wasn't taking it seriously either. It was a two horse race and he was on the verge of losing it.
Into the Suzuka chicane, I watched him slide off into the sandtrap. I was perhaps a carlength behind him and it appeared to me as if he snatched the brakes too early coming out of the right hand kink before the hairpin turn, which first spun the WRX to the right and he overcorrected and then entered a fatal slide into the sandrap.
Hmmmm. It was a two horse race. No more French fellow, just me and the WRX-driving Aussie. And the WRX was in the sand.
I sailed through the corner and took off, dismayed to find that the WRX didn't leave the sandtrap. I carried on, keeping a close eye on the blip at the Suzuka hairpin map and as the seconds went on, that blip didn't move.
Please don't tell me he's going to quit, I told myself. Lap One out of FIVE. Come on mate, we got stacks of racing left to do!!
I pulled in at the pits and brought the GT to a stop, ready to wait until he caught up with me. There was no fun in racing alone. My eye was still on the blip on the radar map. As soon as I stopped, the blip disappeared.
Great. He had quit the race.

Disappointed, I sent him a message that was intentionally sarcastic. "Thanks for the race."
A few minutes later I recieved a reply. "Yeah Right. Punt me into the sand and race on like you're some kind of winner. GO **** YOURSELF."

I was immensely disappointed with the reply. So much so, I had to write back and as the conversation carried on, it became clear that the fellow Aussie I'd been racing against was convinced that I'd punted him into the sand and labelled me as a Punter and not worth racing against. He said "It's guys like you who ruin this game."

I have never been called a punter before. I pride myself on clean and fair driving and if I hit a player and bump them off the track I will always wait for them. And this fellow (whom I now have on my friend's list) called me a punter, the lowest of insults a GT driver could get.
This is not a thread to vindicate myself, neither is it a thread of support. But never in 10 years of driving have I ever been called a punter and it has come as a shock to find that one driver found me as such.
How many others are there?
It was quiet.
There was me, there was this fellow Aussie (whom I'd never met before) and an Frenchman who was in a Ferrari California.
I was in a Ford GT (not LM Spec) and my fellow countryman was in a Subaru WRX STi (the old ones).
Anyways, the race started off with me getting swallowed by both the Subie and the Cali, the Ford building up pace slowly whilst the other two rocketed into turn one. I watched with baited breath, as neighbour from Adelaide proceeded to take the lead into turn one, the Ferrari driver hot on his heels. I was perhaps three or four car lengths behind, certainly in no hurry and certainly not in a hurry to engage myself in this tussle between a Frenchman and an Aussie whom I'd never met.
You see, I was not taking the race seriously. Why?
Well the chap in the Ferrari was only at 625PP and the gentleman from the City of Churches was running a 640PP Subaru. I knew that I had the pace to outrun both of them and I was merely content to sit back and watch both drivers dice it out.
My viewing pleasure came to a premature end as on Turn 3, the Frenchman, pushing his Ferrari ever so hard, slid off into the sandtrap. That left me and the Subaru to dice it out for the next five laps.
I watched the Adelaidian fellow pull some stunning drifts up through the S-bends and all the while, I was following, admiring his car control, wondering how long could he keep it together. I was running the Ford at about 75 percent, coasting most of the way and braking very early, keeping it all tidy and just laying in wait. I'd seen guys like this before. They were knife-edge drivers. One mistake and they'd be finished.
One corner. Two corners. Three! FOUR corners! He kept yanking on the handbrake and pulling these amazing four wheel drifts. And whilst I choked on gram after gram of Bridgestone rubber, I wondered how much longer he could keep up the Tokyo Drift for.
I was miles quicker and I knew it, but I was happy to watch, it was only first lap and I figured he was showboating and not taking the race seriously. After the Frenchman dropped out, I wasn't taking it seriously either. It was a two horse race and he was on the verge of losing it.
Into the Suzuka chicane, I watched him slide off into the sandtrap. I was perhaps a carlength behind him and it appeared to me as if he snatched the brakes too early coming out of the right hand kink before the hairpin turn, which first spun the WRX to the right and he overcorrected and then entered a fatal slide into the sandrap.
Hmmmm. It was a two horse race. No more French fellow, just me and the WRX-driving Aussie. And the WRX was in the sand.
I sailed through the corner and took off, dismayed to find that the WRX didn't leave the sandtrap. I carried on, keeping a close eye on the blip at the Suzuka hairpin map and as the seconds went on, that blip didn't move.
Please don't tell me he's going to quit, I told myself. Lap One out of FIVE. Come on mate, we got stacks of racing left to do!!
I pulled in at the pits and brought the GT to a stop, ready to wait until he caught up with me. There was no fun in racing alone. My eye was still on the blip on the radar map. As soon as I stopped, the blip disappeared.
Great. He had quit the race.
Disappointed, I sent him a message that was intentionally sarcastic. "Thanks for the race."
A few minutes later I recieved a reply. "Yeah Right. Punt me into the sand and race on like you're some kind of winner. GO **** YOURSELF."
I was immensely disappointed with the reply. So much so, I had to write back and as the conversation carried on, it became clear that the fellow Aussie I'd been racing against was convinced that I'd punted him into the sand and labelled me as a Punter and not worth racing against. He said "It's guys like you who ruin this game."
I have never been called a punter before. I pride myself on clean and fair driving and if I hit a player and bump them off the track I will always wait for them. And this fellow (whom I now have on my friend's list) called me a punter, the lowest of insults a GT driver could get.
This is not a thread to vindicate myself, neither is it a thread of support. But never in 10 years of driving have I ever been called a punter and it has come as a shock to find that one driver found me as such.
How many others are there?