- 303
Authors Note: The story is fiction. The driving is real (well
you know what I mean). Hope you guys have fun reading.
Begin Again
It had been a long, cold time since I had received word of the nightmare that was unleashing itself across the ocean in Rome. The Gran Turismo Association (GTA), the mighty body that oversaw the worlds largest, most popular, and oldest racing league, was in the midst of a collapse that couldnt be conceived by the mind of mere drivers such as myself.
Emilio Carzetti, 33rd President and Chief of Operations of the GTA, had been caught embezzling massive quantities of funds from the GTAs accounts. Bad enough, yes, but how he had come about the funds to embezzle in the first place is what destroyed the GTA.
Carzetti routinely sent scouts out to countries around the world, searching for young stars to recruit for the GTA. This, of course, was to be expected, but what he was doing with those young stars wasnt. Carzetti would secure veterans against which these rookies would race, veterans that would throw the race. The rookies would win, the advertisers would come calling, and the GTA would begin raking in a goodly amount of fees from the sponsors plastered all over the images and car of the next big thing. Of course, by the time the greenhorn reached the pinnacle of the GTA, races like the World Championship Series, the Mistral endurance race, and so forth, the veterans there were making too much money off the actual races to be bribed by Carzetti. The rookies, of course, would be crushed by the competition, and the advertisers dropped them like hot rocks. By then, though, Carzetti would already be securing new rookies, and the whole thing started over again.
The European Union, United States, Japan, and Australia each launched massive fraud investigations into the Gran Turismo Association, and brought the entirety of its operations to a complete halt. The final report revealed that the last ten years worth of records were tantamount to a big, fat lie.
71% of GTA-certified drivers were found to have involvement, and were charged with fraud in their home countries. Most of them were subsequently thrown into prison for their crimes.
The rookies, those that were found to be unknowing of what was going on, were not jailed, of course. However, all of the GTAs drivers, guilty or not, had their international racing certifications, most of which were ISSUED by the GTA, stripped of them.
I guess most of them managed, though. Some of them went into Formula 1, most of them starting tooling around in one-make race series, and a few even ended up in NASCAR and the World Rally Championship.
But, as for the rest of us
Well, you see, I was a rookie in Carzettis last crop. I had already attracted some attention by winning out in the beginners races, and advertisers were beginning to take interest in me when the whole thing exploded.
There was, to be simple, no more GTA. And, thusly, no GTA meant nothing for me to do.
So, I returned home. Well, not home, but to Greenville, the nearest city to my little town. There, a couple of the guys that had joined me when I made a run at the GTA joined me also when I ran away, helping me start a little driving school. And, when I say driving school, I mean it. Im teaching teenagers how to work a car.
Yeah, I know. But, hey, it gets me a decent fee per kid. Youve no idea what the phrase former GTA race car driver does to increase the amount of money people are willing to pay you.
So, thats what Ive been doing during the 683 days worth of the absence of racing from my life. Driving around at highway speeds, all nice and civil, not trying to win anything. Not even a drag race to the next red light with the ridiculous-looking Honda Civic next to me.
man, this sucks.
So, you can imagine my reaction when THIS happened:
Phone rings in my bland, little, reminding-me-how-much-I-miss-racing office.
Hello? says me, eloquent as I ever before have been.
Mr. Christopher Owens? asks this female voice on the other end. A voice, mind you, drenched with more Italian accent than any pasta. Of course, my interest is piqued right away. The LAST time there was an Italian on my phone, my racing life was ruined.
Speaking, was my worthy-of-historical-note reply.
Wed like to invite you back to race in the new Gran Turismo Association.
What I had forgotten in my youthfulness was that investigations tended to end. And when they ended, the people being investigated, and the people investigating, usually agreed to let the investigated get back on with making of money to be taxed by the governments of the investigators (as you can imagine, tax revenue earned from GTA profits was pretty big).
Somehow, I had missed the end of the Great Gran Turismo Fraud Investigation.
Before you decide, I must advise you that your records, including your vehicle inventory and license status, have been wiped clean under the agreement between the GTA and its member states. However, you may be eligible for limited transfer of licenses and funds if you register at the home offices, she advised me.
So, youre telling me Id need to start almost totally over again? I asked, trying to see if I was actually awake, or having another the GTA is back again dream. I hate those things.
Thats correct, she said.
Where do I sign up?!
Next morning finds my ex-now-not-ex GTA crewmates and I on a plane to Rome, so I can re-register our existence at the GTAs home office.
The trip isnt really worth recounting, but the destination is. This is the first time Id been to the home office (I registered the first time at the GTAs US Headquarters in New York City), so I was excited to see what the place actually looked like.
Youve heard of St. Peters Square, right? Where the Vatican is? Well, GTA headquarters had that same sort of presence. The Racing Vatican.
You walk into the doors, which are glass, and you enter the biggest lobby in all of Italy, which is roofed with glass, and youre met by a GTA representative (which may or may not be wearing glasses), and if youre a driver, or are registering, in my case, you get to ride the elevator (glass) to the second floor, were there was a big line of ex-drivers just like me waiting to get back into the game. Because of the line, you get refreshments while you wait (also in glasses).
When it was my turn, the registrar and the investigator assigned to check all the register-ees for hints of fraud or criminal activity asked me all sorts of questions. Name, date of birth, rank, serial number, social security number, shoe size, favorite color, favorite flavor of ice cream, and so on. When they were satisfied that I was spotless, I was then directed to a new line for the untainted, where I would receive my transferred licenses, and a check to be deposited into my new GTA account.
If youre wondering where my crewmates went, well, they were still on the floor below. See, theyre pit crew guys, and they dont need to go through the whole process of registering that I did. They get assigned to a new crew chief, who, because of our previous racing relationship, will then be assigned to me. Part of the GTAs push to attract ex-drivers back with the promise of keeping teams together.
Well, after the wait in the second line for my licenses and additional seed money, I was directed back down to the floor below, where my new crew chief and crew would be assigned to me. So, I went back down there, and looked for my guys. I found them pretty easily, but
Hello! this diminutive girl waves at me as I walk over to my old/new crewmates and the rest of my assigned pit crew. Shes cute and all, black hair, green eyes, and a smile that could light up Cleveland, but shes so young. Like, REALLY young.
Um hello. Who are you? I replied to her.
She gives me a big grin, Im your new crew chief!
Eh huh wha? was all I could muster.
I looked at my pit crew, and they just shrugged.
I only shook my head, and made for the glass doors. Lets just go find a car
Outside GTA headquarters, a bunch of the manufacturers had set up shop, and brought a whole bunch of vehicles with them, new and used, to sell to the new rookies and returning drivers. I bunch of the companies there I hadnt seen before, at least, not under the GTA flag.
Cizeta? Saleen? When did these guys get manufacturers certification? I blinked, bewildered at the sheer number of companies now involved.
Its all part of the GTAs plan to gain back the fanbase! my crew chief explained to me.
Oh. Thats interesting, uh uh I urged her to give me her name or something I could call her.
Angela, she said. Didnt I tell you that earlier?
No.
She blinked. Oops.
I coughed. Okay, Ive got 110,000 credits to blow. Lets go shopping.
We began to comb the various show booths, most of which had shiny new cars, and one or two company reps. Which are not like a dealer salesman, mind you. These people were usually ex-racers themselves, and knew what they were talking about.
Lets buy that WRX! Angela insisted when we visited the Subaru booth. It was a nice car to be sure, glittering in the sun, painted in WR Blue Mica, hood scoop fit to be the air intake of an F-16.
But All-wheel drive. I dunno. I said.
Aw, come on! Its got such great torque! You can launch out of the corners! Angela insisted.
Understeer. Besides, I want a point-and-shoot car. Something with rear-wheel drive.
We left the Subaru booth, and wandered through the crowd for a while, before we stumbled on the GTA-sponsored Used Car booth.
I see the clunkers are back, I grinned. That was before I saw it.
It was a 1990 Supra, the one with the 2.5 liter, twin-turbo engine, and about seventy letters in its name, painted blacker than the depths of space. And it talked to me, in that odd way a car can speak to a driver.
Buy me.
Angela saw that look. you cant be serious.
Yo! I shouted to the booth manager. Wrap this one up! Its sold!
A few minutes later saw my new ride being loaded onto a GTA trailer. I had a big grin on my face, but Angela wasnt impressed.
Why the hell she folded her arms and gave me the look. The bad look.
Not even 12,000 credits spent. Do you know what I can afford to do to this car now? I said to her.
I guess, but
Hey, as long as I win with it, right? I grinned.
Angela sighed. Yeah, thats what counts, I guess.
Of course. Now, lets follow my baby to the tuner shop.
--------
Story Notes: I'll get to the actual driving in part two. This was my attempt at explaining a) GT3's awful AI, and b) why the presentation is soooo much different between GT3 and GT4.
Begin Again
It had been a long, cold time since I had received word of the nightmare that was unleashing itself across the ocean in Rome. The Gran Turismo Association (GTA), the mighty body that oversaw the worlds largest, most popular, and oldest racing league, was in the midst of a collapse that couldnt be conceived by the mind of mere drivers such as myself.
Emilio Carzetti, 33rd President and Chief of Operations of the GTA, had been caught embezzling massive quantities of funds from the GTAs accounts. Bad enough, yes, but how he had come about the funds to embezzle in the first place is what destroyed the GTA.
Carzetti routinely sent scouts out to countries around the world, searching for young stars to recruit for the GTA. This, of course, was to be expected, but what he was doing with those young stars wasnt. Carzetti would secure veterans against which these rookies would race, veterans that would throw the race. The rookies would win, the advertisers would come calling, and the GTA would begin raking in a goodly amount of fees from the sponsors plastered all over the images and car of the next big thing. Of course, by the time the greenhorn reached the pinnacle of the GTA, races like the World Championship Series, the Mistral endurance race, and so forth, the veterans there were making too much money off the actual races to be bribed by Carzetti. The rookies, of course, would be crushed by the competition, and the advertisers dropped them like hot rocks. By then, though, Carzetti would already be securing new rookies, and the whole thing started over again.
The European Union, United States, Japan, and Australia each launched massive fraud investigations into the Gran Turismo Association, and brought the entirety of its operations to a complete halt. The final report revealed that the last ten years worth of records were tantamount to a big, fat lie.
71% of GTA-certified drivers were found to have involvement, and were charged with fraud in their home countries. Most of them were subsequently thrown into prison for their crimes.
The rookies, those that were found to be unknowing of what was going on, were not jailed, of course. However, all of the GTAs drivers, guilty or not, had their international racing certifications, most of which were ISSUED by the GTA, stripped of them.
I guess most of them managed, though. Some of them went into Formula 1, most of them starting tooling around in one-make race series, and a few even ended up in NASCAR and the World Rally Championship.
But, as for the rest of us
Well, you see, I was a rookie in Carzettis last crop. I had already attracted some attention by winning out in the beginners races, and advertisers were beginning to take interest in me when the whole thing exploded.
There was, to be simple, no more GTA. And, thusly, no GTA meant nothing for me to do.
So, I returned home. Well, not home, but to Greenville, the nearest city to my little town. There, a couple of the guys that had joined me when I made a run at the GTA joined me also when I ran away, helping me start a little driving school. And, when I say driving school, I mean it. Im teaching teenagers how to work a car.
Yeah, I know. But, hey, it gets me a decent fee per kid. Youve no idea what the phrase former GTA race car driver does to increase the amount of money people are willing to pay you.
So, thats what Ive been doing during the 683 days worth of the absence of racing from my life. Driving around at highway speeds, all nice and civil, not trying to win anything. Not even a drag race to the next red light with the ridiculous-looking Honda Civic next to me.
man, this sucks.
So, you can imagine my reaction when THIS happened:
Phone rings in my bland, little, reminding-me-how-much-I-miss-racing office.
Hello? says me, eloquent as I ever before have been.
Mr. Christopher Owens? asks this female voice on the other end. A voice, mind you, drenched with more Italian accent than any pasta. Of course, my interest is piqued right away. The LAST time there was an Italian on my phone, my racing life was ruined.
Speaking, was my worthy-of-historical-note reply.
Wed like to invite you back to race in the new Gran Turismo Association.
What I had forgotten in my youthfulness was that investigations tended to end. And when they ended, the people being investigated, and the people investigating, usually agreed to let the investigated get back on with making of money to be taxed by the governments of the investigators (as you can imagine, tax revenue earned from GTA profits was pretty big).
Somehow, I had missed the end of the Great Gran Turismo Fraud Investigation.
Before you decide, I must advise you that your records, including your vehicle inventory and license status, have been wiped clean under the agreement between the GTA and its member states. However, you may be eligible for limited transfer of licenses and funds if you register at the home offices, she advised me.
So, youre telling me Id need to start almost totally over again? I asked, trying to see if I was actually awake, or having another the GTA is back again dream. I hate those things.
Thats correct, she said.
Where do I sign up?!
Next morning finds my ex-now-not-ex GTA crewmates and I on a plane to Rome, so I can re-register our existence at the GTAs home office.
The trip isnt really worth recounting, but the destination is. This is the first time Id been to the home office (I registered the first time at the GTAs US Headquarters in New York City), so I was excited to see what the place actually looked like.
Youve heard of St. Peters Square, right? Where the Vatican is? Well, GTA headquarters had that same sort of presence. The Racing Vatican.
You walk into the doors, which are glass, and you enter the biggest lobby in all of Italy, which is roofed with glass, and youre met by a GTA representative (which may or may not be wearing glasses), and if youre a driver, or are registering, in my case, you get to ride the elevator (glass) to the second floor, were there was a big line of ex-drivers just like me waiting to get back into the game. Because of the line, you get refreshments while you wait (also in glasses).
When it was my turn, the registrar and the investigator assigned to check all the register-ees for hints of fraud or criminal activity asked me all sorts of questions. Name, date of birth, rank, serial number, social security number, shoe size, favorite color, favorite flavor of ice cream, and so on. When they were satisfied that I was spotless, I was then directed to a new line for the untainted, where I would receive my transferred licenses, and a check to be deposited into my new GTA account.
If youre wondering where my crewmates went, well, they were still on the floor below. See, theyre pit crew guys, and they dont need to go through the whole process of registering that I did. They get assigned to a new crew chief, who, because of our previous racing relationship, will then be assigned to me. Part of the GTAs push to attract ex-drivers back with the promise of keeping teams together.
Well, after the wait in the second line for my licenses and additional seed money, I was directed back down to the floor below, where my new crew chief and crew would be assigned to me. So, I went back down there, and looked for my guys. I found them pretty easily, but
Hello! this diminutive girl waves at me as I walk over to my old/new crewmates and the rest of my assigned pit crew. Shes cute and all, black hair, green eyes, and a smile that could light up Cleveland, but shes so young. Like, REALLY young.
Um hello. Who are you? I replied to her.
She gives me a big grin, Im your new crew chief!
Eh huh wha? was all I could muster.
I looked at my pit crew, and they just shrugged.
I only shook my head, and made for the glass doors. Lets just go find a car
Outside GTA headquarters, a bunch of the manufacturers had set up shop, and brought a whole bunch of vehicles with them, new and used, to sell to the new rookies and returning drivers. I bunch of the companies there I hadnt seen before, at least, not under the GTA flag.
Cizeta? Saleen? When did these guys get manufacturers certification? I blinked, bewildered at the sheer number of companies now involved.
Its all part of the GTAs plan to gain back the fanbase! my crew chief explained to me.
Oh. Thats interesting, uh uh I urged her to give me her name or something I could call her.
Angela, she said. Didnt I tell you that earlier?
No.
She blinked. Oops.
I coughed. Okay, Ive got 110,000 credits to blow. Lets go shopping.
We began to comb the various show booths, most of which had shiny new cars, and one or two company reps. Which are not like a dealer salesman, mind you. These people were usually ex-racers themselves, and knew what they were talking about.
Lets buy that WRX! Angela insisted when we visited the Subaru booth. It was a nice car to be sure, glittering in the sun, painted in WR Blue Mica, hood scoop fit to be the air intake of an F-16.
But All-wheel drive. I dunno. I said.
Aw, come on! Its got such great torque! You can launch out of the corners! Angela insisted.
Understeer. Besides, I want a point-and-shoot car. Something with rear-wheel drive.
We left the Subaru booth, and wandered through the crowd for a while, before we stumbled on the GTA-sponsored Used Car booth.
I see the clunkers are back, I grinned. That was before I saw it.
It was a 1990 Supra, the one with the 2.5 liter, twin-turbo engine, and about seventy letters in its name, painted blacker than the depths of space. And it talked to me, in that odd way a car can speak to a driver.
Buy me.
Angela saw that look. you cant be serious.
Yo! I shouted to the booth manager. Wrap this one up! Its sold!
A few minutes later saw my new ride being loaded onto a GTA trailer. I had a big grin on my face, but Angela wasnt impressed.
Why the hell she folded her arms and gave me the look. The bad look.
Not even 12,000 credits spent. Do you know what I can afford to do to this car now? I said to her.
I guess, but
Hey, as long as I win with it, right? I grinned.
Angela sighed. Yeah, thats what counts, I guess.
Of course. Now, lets follow my baby to the tuner shop.
--------
Story Notes: I'll get to the actual driving in part two. This was my attempt at explaining a) GT3's awful AI, and b) why the presentation is soooo much different between GT3 and GT4.