The only other thing you can't do is drive directly into a driver's-side door. To the assembled drivers, this speech is a mere formality. Some of them have traveled from as far as Texas for their shot at being crowned the least defensive driver in America. FOR A first-time spectator, not even a complete viewing of the Mad Max trilogy would be adequate preparation for the sensory assault of a demolition derby. Within a minute of the opening gun, the track becomes carmageddon.
Collisions come fast and thick, about one per second.
The smell of charred Buick hangs thickly over the stands. To protect their engines, most drivers crash backward into each other, which gives the track the look of a mall parking lot populated by psychotic elderly drivers. Unidentified car parts arc high into the air. Fans hoot lustily. One car does a complete rollover, only to drive on as though nothing had happened.