Keep On Truckin’

A couple of weeks ago I was at Reliant Stadium for a football game. This weekend I was back at the same venue for an entirely different type of ‘sporting’ event – a monster truck rally. This is actually my fourth or fifth, but I hasten to add that it has always been for the benefit of the kids. Honest. The two boys have both been into monster trucks, but this time it was Freya who seemed most keen on going. Must be the Texan in her blood (she was born here…).

Last time I was here we were bussed in to within 100 yards of the door. This time, while it was on my own nickel, I drove. This proved to be a major nightmare. Actually, the drive there was fine; it was the parking that had my blood boiling. Despite having to pay an extortionate amount for the tickets (including a fee to print your own ticket – what a scam that is!) they still charge you $10 for parking at the facility. We pulled into the complex (which also houses Reliant Arena and the Astrodome – where Astroturf was invented, fact-fans) and paid our parking fee only to be guided all the way round the buildings to a car park way, way out back. Despite the bollards, police cars, and one-way roads, there were still literally dozens of ‘helpers’ who waved us on with their stubby little light-sabers, as though there was any doubt as to the direction we were being shepherded in. We were finally allowed to park literally over the other side of the vast complex to the one we had driven in on, and a full 20 minutes’ walk from the entrance. Which is absolutely no fun with a five-year-old, and temperatures on the wrong side of 50degreesF. I felt like asking where the shuttle bus was, because I’m sure we were further away than the Mickey 6 lot at Disneyland…

When we finally reached the Stadium we were again shepherded along until we found what should have been our section. But wasn’t. We were a level out. One of the ‘greeters’ handily pointed out a staircase we could take, but when I got to the next level the door to get back into the building was locked! Handy. In my rapidly-escalating sense of annoyance I kicked the crap out of the door until someone came and opened it for us. Unfortunately I’d forgotten that I was wearing (soft-toed) Dr. Martens and not my steel-toed workboots, so I now have a split and very bruised big toe on my kicking foot. Serves me right, I guess…

Anyway, the monster truck rally was fun. Pretty much as expected. Every time it seems to follow the same formula and have roughly the same result. The first half is time trials – there are some 20 monster trucks that race each other round a very small circuit (remember, this is inside a football stadium) two at a time until someone is declared the winner (usually Gravedigger). This is pretty meh – the heats are almost over as soon as they have begun, and none of the trucks are really doing anything impressive, because they don’t want to damage their trucks before part two – the ‘Freestyle’ round. This is where each truck gets 90 seconds to tear around the arena crushing cars (and buses), launching themselves over ramps, spinning donuts, and pretty much anything else they can think of to raise a cheer out of the crowd. This is the most enjoyable part of the ‘event’ – not because the trucks really do much new or interesting, but because there is always a chance that any given truck is going to crash and burn. Literally. The cheers that go up from the crowd whenever a driver rolls his truck is deafening (even more deafening than 20 1,500 horsepower monster trucks all revving up inside an enclosed space. This evening we had a couple of rolls (including Gravedigger – who naturally won the Freestyle round pretty much on the basis of this), several broken somethings that made the trucks lilt at a worrying angle, and a couple of flat (6ft high) tires. Plus a few seat-edge fuel leaks and a lot of smoke. So fun all round.

For me one of the ‘funnest’ parts of the rally is checking out the crowd. There’s a lot of strange people who attend monster truck rallys. There’s always a few mullets, several guys in wifebeaters, and plenty of trucker caps. And most of them really get into it, a-whoopin’ an’ a-hollerin’ very time a truck gets big air, and just about creaming themselves when one rolls over. Sadly, I think my eldest is turning into one of them, as he was standing up and clapping like a seal on heat when Gravedigger won the final event.

All told, it’s all good family entertainment. In fact at the end I was sorry to leave. Not because I was having the best time ever, or anything – just because getting out of the facility is so painful. First, we had a 20 minute walk back to the car, and then had to negotiate our way towards the nearest gate, which we could see about 20 yards away, but couldn’t actually get to because every Billy-Bob Truck Driver (and somehow most of the patrons seem to drive trucks) in our parking lot decided to hell with designated driving lanes, and just drove across the parking spaces in a bee line for the gate, which was exactly one car wide. And strangely none of the ‘traffic helpers’ who had been there to herd us in were around to herd us back out again. So it was 45 minutes of jostling my tiny car through a jam of trucks before we got out. And then I was lucky to get out with both bumpers and my nerves still intact. Next time I swear I’m going to either ‘copter in, or see if I can hire Truckosaurus for the day, and just crush the crap out of all of the other cars on my way out…

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