The idea of Truck Soccer evolved out of a general desire to drive remote-control cars around and smash 'em. Guy Worthy had spoken of this desire several times early in 1997, to the point where he was ready to dig up a large portion of his backyard to make a dirt track. Of course, there was more to it than this; basic, common sense enhancements to the cars were discussed. Things like grappling hooks, flame throwers, and the like. There were some interesting cheap remote-control cars that already had cheap, snap-on weirdo stuff, but it all seemed rather wimpy. More importantly, none of these cars had more than two unique frequencies.

I don't have to explain that, do I?

What it meant, rather simply, was that only two cars could race at the same time. Any more cars, and the frequencies crossed. No good.

So we started looking at the more expensive cars.

And even more expensive.

Then we started looking in the glass cases.

And there it was. The big one. The Scorpion II. Six frequencies, one hunnerd dollars. Who's got that kind of money? I don't.

The rest of the kids scooped up five of the things. I remind you now that Truck Soccer did not exist at this point. There was still this odd racing idea.

So everyone would get together and race the trucks around. "Go around that barrel, through those two posts, to the end of the driveway and back." That sort of stuff. They even built little cute wooden ramps. That lasted for awhile. Then a little bit of strategy was added; a poker chip in the back of your vehicle while you're racing. Chip falls out, you're out. Etc, etc.

At this point, Nyxyxylyth was getting pretty bored and complained to the group at large. Surely this was not worth one hunnerd dollars. Guy Worthy countered.

"Make a better suggestion, then."

PS: Eventually I broke down and bought a truck. By the time I got around to it, the trucks were going for eighty dollars. I'm a shrewd mother.