Andrew, or "Drew", is in the business of street racing. He’s part of the well-known subculture of illegal drag racers that race against each other, in approximate quarter-mile areas like Libis, Fairview, and Sucat. They race for money, pride, and the sheer thrill of doing something dangerous and illegal. Quarter miles are run by two cars driven by groups’ appointed drivers, races begun and finished in the span of 15 seconds. In fact, 15 seconds might actually be too much already what with all the trick engine works already done to their cars to make them as fast as possible. These races can run well until dawn due to all the betting and negotiating eating up most of the time for these races, which can have dozens of cars waiting for their turn on the road.
They predominantly drive Hondas, which are well regarded for their speed right out of the box, their easy upgradeability, and the abundance of trick parts and engines available here and abroad. Racing is a serious business, after all. "I run a shop in the city. We do most of the engine-work, and we can usually make a race-ready car in three days. Maybe a month at the most." For tax-free purposes, his shop is an underground affair unregistered with the government. It is also why his full name hasn’t been mentioned for this story, and why he requested that the exact location and name of his shop not be stated.
Contrary to what one would normally expect, Drew doesn’t exactly look the type to go racing and waging thousands on a given night. He’s tousle-haired, lanky, maybe shy... your average college dropout, actually. There’s none of the slick, cocky, rich kid with Daddy’s money to burn attitude you’ll find in just about any trendy place these days. Only his car — a Formula Red Civic SiR look-alike (actually a VTi) gives him away. That, and the way his eyes light up when you get him to talk about cars and racing.
He’s been living the life for three years now, and not likely to quit anytime soon. On a Friday or Saturday night, he and his friends will wager anything from ten to even a hundred thousand bucks against a rival group’s car. In the past even girlfriends were wagered. Challenges are first sent over the phone or through text messages. "Deposits" or "earnest" are made to prove that they’re serious. Hey, a thousand here, ten thousand there, pretty soon you’re talking real money, right? Then they meet at a designated strip of suitably straight road to see who’s got the better car, who’s the better driver.
Ask him about safety and he’ll admit that it’s not really that safe, either for them or anybody on the road at that particular moment in time. "We just block off any intersections until the cars finish the run." It works, to the understandable annoyance of motorists who just want to go home at that time of the night. Once, someone in a Pajero got mad and rammed several of their cars. Then the man rolled down his window with gun in hand and fired into the air as he drove off in a cloud of diesel smoke.
What about the law? Well, either they’re not there because they’re not there, or they’re not there because they’ve been "asked" not to be there. "Usually, they’ll be happy with just some money for their inuman." To their knowledge, no accidents have ever happened during a race. "Most of the accidents occur before or after..." when people horse around with their cars on the road and inevitably hit something.
And despite what films like Rebel Without a Cause and the recent hit The Fast and the Furious might suggest about their predisposition to danger, he claims that street racers aren’t all that violent or arrogant. Most challenges are just banter between friendly rivals. "We’re friends before and after a race. During a race, of course we’re competitors," he says with a smile. Except when you mention poseurs and other wannabe’s, rich pussies more intent on showing off than actually putting their money where their mouth is. That’s when his eyes narrow and a hint of a smirk forms on his face. "Yung mga coño na iyan, hanggang salita lang naman sila pero ‘di naman nagpapakita."
It’s a comment that’s sure to raise eyebrows among readers. Isn’t Drew himself one of these rich and irresponsible citizens with nothing better to do? Perhaps, perhaps not. Drew still lives at home, but supports himself with his shop and other "rackets." It is also where he gets the funding for his bets, which he and his friends pool together against rival groups.’
Definitely, his is an expensive lifestyle. Setting up a car can cost anywhere from a few thousand to hundreds of thousands. Set aside a not insubstantial amount for betting purposes and you’d better make sure you have a steady supply of funding for this sort of diversion. Still, he contends that drag racing is still one of the cheaper forms of motorsport compared to circuit or rally-type races, both of which eat up copious amounts of money for tires, suspensions, fuel, track time, engine, and crew (among others).
In recent years, sanctioned drag racing has come to the general public awareness. Held in venues such as Subic, Clark, and by Manila Bay, these legal events generally attract hundreds of participants. Designed to whet the appetites of speed-hungry people like Drew, how come he still races illegally if it could be done safely and professionally? Part of it is strategy.
"In these legal drag races, you have to say what you’ve done to your car so the organizers can decide what division to put you in. What we do is pay the entry fee so we can participate in the timed practice runs and know how fast our cars are, but we don’t actually compete." A lot of money is on the line, and it wouldn’t do to let the rival group know just what exactly they’re up against. Sucker bets, it would seem, will be done whenever possible. Sometimes, Drew and his friends will even dirty up a car’s engine bay to mislead the rival into betting more and giving them a head start. He is against the visual frippery much loved by many people these days such as spoilers, skirts, and wings. Instead, he’d rather go for the trick cams, valves, pistons and everything else concealed inside an engine block.
Cleverness aside, all one needs to do is observe Drew’s body language to understand what makes his motor tick. The way his eyes light up, the way he shrugs off the implicit danger to life and license, one can guess he’s not likely to quit anytime soon. Street racing is dangerous, illegal, and that’s apparently what’s so appealing. It is about wanting to prove you’re the better driver, that you’ve the better car than the other person, about driving a car so powerful that the noise is deafening, the vibration numbing.
It is about feeling higher, faster than the rest of the population, the good citizens content to putter about in their stock Corollas, Civics, Sentras, even BMWs and what have you. Just as we’re about to end the interview, he shows me a text message from a friend telling him about an upcoming race. At least fifteen thousand bucks as deposit are on the line, with both competing cars having race-optimized computer boxes. After our interview, Drew will likely spend the afternoon with his friends tinkering over a car or playing Counter-Strike (naturally, with bets) until the night. Then they will converge at an area near you to play their dangerous, high-stakes game whether you like it or not.