In how to win the gold and make a baby cry. I warned of the dangers of playing Gran Turismo 2 while babysitting. Unless you like to inflict yourself with pain I suggest you not do that.

A couple of days later my friend and I were playing the game once again. We wanted the Honda Spoon. Two more license tests to go and it would be ours.

Tests B-9 and B-10, maneuvering a S-turn with a Ford Cougar. Once again we were presented with difficulty (i.e. see how to win the gold and make a baby cry.), once again we became frustrated, and once again we became intense.

Once again the baby was in her stationary shock absorber bouncing away and drooling to the rhythm of the music to the game.

We won B-9. We came close on B-10. We needed to get through the turn in 20.300 seconds. We had gotten 20.415 and 20.393, but the real slap to the head came when we earned 20.304. Do you know how small of a difference that is? Four thousandths of a second! An hour went by. Then another.

We're so close. Darn it!

20.304! Awww! Com'on!

Whoa! Watch out for the first turn.


What? Aw, man! My thumbs. My thumbs!

This Honda Spoon better not be like an wiener truck or something

Almost one hour and fifteen minutes since we began my friend finished the race. 19.992 seconds. Not only did we win, we broke 20 seconds. We came. We saw. We conquered. We screamed.


I looked at my friend. He looked at me. We looked at the baby. She looked like she was going to cry.

He picked her up and threw her in the air. (You know the way only fathers can do). He kissed her and played with her making it think we were excited because of her.

I joined in with baby-voiced shouts and yelps. I felt like such a fool.

She didn't cry.

It was worth it.

The Honda Spoon wasn't.

We went on and accepted our prize of the Honda Spoon. What a piece of junk. Well, not really. It has a good top speed, but it corners like a cockroach through malto meal. Bottom line. We sold it.