Demolition derby provides smashing time
Like most art lovers, I once considered watching helmet-wearing brutes batter one another around an arena as the most sophisticated way to spend a Sunday afternoon.
But sometimes Sunday can offer even more culture than football.
Sometimes there are helmet-wearing drivers battering one another around an arena in smoke-belching, rust-bucket Cadillacs, Chevys and Fords.
Ah, the roar of the yahoos. The belching of exhaust pipes. The stench of burning petroleum products …
The annual Demolition Derby was held before a grandstand crowd at the Spokane County Interstate Fair. A field of 23 beater-mobiles bashed one another silly until one barely functioning vehicle remained.
This was my demolition derby debut.
No, I wasn’t a driver. I may be a few spark plugs shy of a tune-up, but I don’t have a death wish.
I was a corporate sponsor. You know, like Viagra in NASCAR, only way more potent.
I paid 100 bucks to have “Read Doug Clark in The Spokesman-Review” painted across the side of a black 1975 Chevy Caprice station wagon – the 98 car driven by Spokane’s Pat Fitzgerald.
During my interminably long career, I have encountered many readers who expressed a desire to get behind a wheel and run me down like a slow-moving squirrel. Being on a derby car was my way of offering 22 drivers the opportunity to figuratively demolish the good name of Doug.
Watching this car carnage is like watching the sacking of Troy. There’s so much violence that it’s impossible to keep track of it all.
Did I hear there was a gas crisis going on?
Fitzgerald, 32, is a road warrior. He placed second in the two demo events prior to this one. The lifelong motor-head works as a mechanic with his dad, Rich, at Fitzgerald Motors, 1701 N. Ash St.
For the longest time Fitzgerald, who has a Chevy emblem tattooed on his ring finger, looked like he was going to drive the Doug Car to victory.
He weaved past steaming hulks, expertly avoiding debilitating collisions while dispensing crunching chaos.
One particularly spirited duel with a gray Chrysler called Bone Daddy ended when Fitzgerald plowed into a Bone Daddy wheel and broke its ball joint.
But in the last minutes of battle something tragic happened. Fitzgerald’s steering assembly came unfastened.
“It was hard to drive with the steering wheel in my lap,” he said.
Then the engine became so overheated that the wagon wouldn’t start. We settled for sixth.
Demolition derby drivers are a curious pack of misfits. Or “crazier than a wooden watch,” as one observer noted.
I guess you must be a bit goofy to have traffic accidents on purpose. But there are rules. Before the mayhem begins cars are thoroughly inspected for any protruding chain saws, machine guns or flame throwers.
It’s all about being safe and having fun, said Bob Thompson, an organizer of the event that’s sponsored by the Trentwood Service Club.
The last car moving was a 1976 Chevy Impala driven by Michael Koon, of Moses Lake. The 22-year-old physical therapist powered about the muddy course, rear-ending some victims, mashing others head on.
The win earned Koon $1,000.
The derby is no sexist event. “I’ve got two brothers who totally ruined me,” said Joann Burton, the only woman driver. “I should’ve been a male.” The 34-year-old Deer Park resident earned 300 bucks when her battle-scarred 1976 Ford LTD placed second.
Sure, I would have liked to have had my name on the winning car. But I’m not sore. I’m not bitter.
Aw, who am I kidding? Beware you masters of metallic mayhem. The Doug Car will rise again, and there’s going to be a wreckoning!