Being challenged to a car race (Singapore)

I’d passed my driving test at age 18, the minimum age for taking the test.  My mother had, only a year or so earlier, swapped her Morris Minor for a Datsun 1200.  The “1200” was 1200cc here, I think.

Late one night, I was sitting at a set of traffic lights near Thompson Road, practically devoid of traffic at that hour, minding my own business, waiting for the lights to change, when I heard, to my right, a car being revved up repeatedly: vroom, vroom, vroom.  I turned round and saw the source of the noise: a car in the next lane, with its owner — a young man — looking at me in a raised eyebrows “well, how about it?” way, obviously challenging me to a car race.

As my Datsun was only a 1200 model, I knew it wouldn’t be up to it.

However, I knew the car well enough for a quick off-the-blocks head start for the first three gears, as I could change gears very quickly, with immediate response from the car.

My training and experience as an athlete — from age eight to 18 — had taught me that one has to start running at the same time that the starter gun is fired, not after one hears it, as this will be a split second too late.  And every split second counts in a 100-metre sprint.  When the starter says “Get set” (after “On your marks”), you start counting to three — that’s the time gap between “get set” and the firing of the gun.  At the count of three, you kick off.  The reason for false starts by athletes is they’ve gone too fast on counting to three, thus pre-empting the gun and getting off the blocks a little too soon.

Being the nerd that I am, I had also observed the timing of traffic lights when changing from one colour to another:  there was a 3-second gap between amber and green.

After my first glance at the young man, I’d turned my head back to focus on the road ahead, giving him the impression that I wasn’t going to bite, thus throwing him off the scent.

The lights went to amber.  

I started counting to three, and shot off the very moment the lights turned green, leaving the young man behind.  

A few yards on, a quick change of gear to second gear.  

Another stretch of road later, a quick change of gear to third.  

Once I’d changed to fourth gear, I eased the pressure on the accelerator pedal and let the car cruise, as my Datsun wouldn’t be able to sustain much speed at fourth gear.

To add insult to injury, I stuck my hand out of the window, and slowly waved the young man on.

(Singapore, 1973)