Originally published June 28, 2007.

I was in 50 car accidents Saturday afternoon. Actually, that’s incorrect. None of them were accidents. I participated in a demolition derby in Arcadia, MD with my good friends from 98 Rock. Yes, a real demolition derby with real cars and real lack of safety precautions. The event was made up of two teams of four, so eight cars total. Each car had all the windows removed except for the windshield. We were each given helmets. The rules were simple. The last car running is the winner. They advised us not to hit anyone on the driver’s side door in order to avoid hurting each other. That was the extent of the safety measures. My team was made up of myself, Mickey Cucchellia, Joe Robinson and some guy we just met named Don. Scott Donahue was supposed to be our fourth member but he bailed on us yet he was still at the event watching which means he had no reason to bail which leaves me no other option but to forever deem him a total pussy. The other team was composed of Scott the Producer, Chris the other Producer, Kerry who won this event last year, and Steve, another guy I just met. Our team had to be considered the heavy underdogs because we were the only team with a member wearing a mouthpiece. Yes, Joe Robinson wore a mouthpiece. And kneepads for that matter. That’s very Scott Donahue of you, Joe. Joe also Googled “demolition derby strategies” the night before. How lame is that? If you Google “how to be fag” a picture of Joe comes up reading up on demolition derby strategies while wearing a mouthpiece and kneepads.

We get in our cars and start to drive down to the pit. I am driving a Chevy Corsica, the Joe Robinson of vehicles. Just driving down into the pit was exhilarating. Hundreds of people were cheering, giving us high fives as we drove by. It really did feel like we were going into some sort of battle. There’s something about putting that helmet and goggles on that turns everything up a notch. I’m not just some idiot driving an old, beat-up Corsica, I am now a race car driver.

The event starts with us lined up on opposite sides in two rows of four. Everyone starts with the front of your car up against the wall. They want everyone going in reverse at the start so not to get up too much speed for the initial collision. The guy next to you and the guy directly behind you are on the opposite team. I am at the far end with Chris to my right. I decide that I am going to try to hold back for a second and then reverse as fast as I can and try to pummel the front of Chris’s car. That was the extent of my strategy. The crowd counts down, 3, 2, 1… and it’s on! I hold back a second like I planned and then reverse it right into Chris’s front end. It wasn’t a huge shot by any means, but it got my adrenaline going big time. The hardest part was not hitting your own teammates. There were orange numbers on our passenger side and yellow on theirs but unless you see the passenger side it got confusing as to who was who. It seemed like forever before anyone was out. I thought it would only last like five minutes but ten minutes in and almost the cars appeared to still be going strong. I had no frame of reference, but I felt like I was doing well. I felt I was giving more shots than I was taking. Don’t get me wrong, I was taking some big shots and was sore the next day to prove it, but my car was still handling fairly well. I started to think that I could actually win this thing. A lot of who went out when and who hit who the hardest was a blur, but I do remember pummeling Scott repeatedly. He just always seemed to be in my way. At one point he stopped driving his car so I thought he was out. I had a perfect shot lined up but you’re not allowed to hit cars that are out, so I pulled up. A few minutes later this bastard is blindsiding me. You almost killed me you possum laying motherfucker!

Our team had the first member to go out but after that we dominated. With only four cars left we had three of them, Mickey, Joe and myself. We just started decimating poor Steve. Mickey and Joe actually knocked out their own cars while hammering Steve leaving just the two of us. My car was clearly handling better so I was getting the best of him. I hit him with a huge shot to the passenger side tire. I back up and his car isn’t moving. I look at him and ask if he’s done. He gives me the hand slicing the throat motion telling me his car is done. I look at the judges and they tell me to keep going because his car is still running. I reverse and then accelerate forward right into him again. The judges say keep going. I do this about three more times and finally they wave the checkered flag. I won a motherfucking demolition derby! How fucking cool is that? I got on top of my car and waived the checkered flag to the “fans.” I got on the mic and thanked my sponsors. Walking back everyone was high fiving my teammates and me. It was amazingly kick ass cool. Thank you so much to Mickey and everyone at 98 Rock for inviting me to this. I had the time of my life.