Any outside observer will easily conclude that drag racing is an outlaw’s sport. There’s no real thrill to it since you’re going in a straight line, just a brash desire to break the law. Professional drag racing though, those carefully organized with all the proper permits and safety precautions is far from simply driving as fast as you can.
It comes down almost to a science, as to how a car is prepared for one of these races. Careful analysis of the track and its conditions, as well as how a car copes with these with time and wear factored in will produce the best results. Even the very gears of a drag car’s transmission are studied to the very millisecond of advantage it can give. The car’s themselves have to be dedicated so fully to the sport that to use them in any other motorsport that involves anything other than a straight line is unthinkable.
As for the race itself, that too is an exercise in precision. Bracket racing, the latest and most popular variant of drag racing involves dialing in (qualifying) a specific quarter mile time, of which one is not allowed to go below, i.e. if your run is faster than your dial in time, you break out and therefore lose. Naturally, if you run much slower, you also lose. The skill, therefore, lies in consistency.
One of the most critical aspects of bracket racing is staging. Since the Christmas tree (column of stoplights) is powered by infra red sensors, the starting points of both participants require the wheel to cross sensors at one point (meaning it’s ready) and cross another set of sensors (at the start and finish line to start and stop the clock) at another point. The staging area is a small area before the starting line. Yes, the cars don’t actually start at the starting line but rather have some leeway to position themselves. When a car positions itself in this area before the starting line, it is called staging. If it positions itself outside of this area, the race will not start until the participant has repositioned itself in the proper area. Once both cars are positioned, the countdown to the green light begins.
Competitors often anticipate the green, the real green light being the last yellow before it. Any fraction of a second too soon and you trigger the sensors, automatically turning on the red light on your lane. This signifies a disqualification. Herein lies the dilemma. Stage too low and you risk a late start. Stage too high and you risk a jumpstart. The trick is perfecting your reaction time (The time between the green light and your tire crossing the sensor. Perfect reaction time is 0.500 seconds.).
Now when one stages, you can stage high or stage low. Staging high means placing the contact patch of the tire further up the area, closer to the line. Doing this starts the timer as soon as the tires start turning, best for cars with a lot of grip. Staging low means placing the contact patch of the tire farther from the line. This allows the tire to spin a little, and gather some momentum before it starts the timer. It may seems trivial to some but the results speak for themselves in the form of milliseconds — often times the same amount of time it takes to break out. Figuring out how to properly stage yourself allows for more consistent times, less chances of breaking out. You have to position yourself just right, taking shortcomings into account, and using it to your advantage.
And this is where the metaphor comes in. Ever since I’ve started reading up on my little plight, my staging in this little game has been either too high or too low. I can’t seem to find the ideal take off point yet. Consistency: still a large matter of practice, practice, practice. Wheelspin, at this point, is a certainty. And once your positioned, there’s still the anxiety of waiting for the green light, and though it can take only seconds, when you’re in the race, in the game, it seems to last a lifetime. And they say it’s all a relative matter. Unfortunately, all the pros have it down to a science.
6.17.2006
6.13.2006
Gunblade vs Buster Sword
There's an ongoing debate amongst FF addicts: Gundblade or Buster Sword. Many argue that none can compete with the purity of the Buster Sword. Although more cosmopolitan fans stress that the Gunblade is a beautiful synergy and homage to the old combined with new schools of though with regards to gun dynamics.
After debating with myself for quite a while (or more like convincing myself to swallow my own pride), I plunked down a large wad of cash for a new book — Gunblade. Possibly the largest amount I’ve ever spent on a book not required for class. Mika must be beaming with pride now. I’ll admit I was rather curious. It might even have been the negative criticism that piqued my interest.
Regardless, I have it now. The deeper I get into it, I realize how it’s much more tailored to me… how the handle, so to speak, and weighting is much more tailored to my style. It starts from where I come from, too caught up in writing, and all the elaborate metaphors and flowery words that come with it. It assumes nothing and begins from there, in the typical story intertwined with exposition manner I’m quite fond of.
Not that Buster Sword is a bad book. It just took a lot of prerequisites for granted, and threw all the rules of grammar and good writing out of the window — a terrible read, but educational nonetheless (probably why it never got an ISBN).
It’s sort of like comparing a model car kit to one built from scratch. A model kit has it all neatly laid out for you, all the parts, numbered and sorted, with clear and concise instructions. Scratch, well, it’s just take what you got and put it together, more like internet downloaded instructions — prone to misinterpretation, diagrams from MS-Paint with spelling errors and whatnot.
Naturally, Buster Sword stakes a claim at superiority, dismissing all other sources as inferior and false. Gunblade on the other hand, acknowledges all else, citing them as different paths to the goal. So what’s a guy to do?
At the very least, Gunblade’s a good read. We’ll see if it’s got a few pointers worth pondering. Odds are, I’ll take the best of both. It’s not like they’re competing, just targeting different niches of the same market. The trouble is always translating it all for a conservative market. Of course, the sources always say it’s all in the mind. And that leaves things open for persuasion.
PS. I wanna change this layout. And since I'm terrible with web language (refer to screwed up banner up top if you're using IE), I need someone who can sort it all out. I'll do the banners, just clean it up.
After debating with myself for quite a while (or more like convincing myself to swallow my own pride), I plunked down a large wad of cash for a new book — Gunblade. Possibly the largest amount I’ve ever spent on a book not required for class. Mika must be beaming with pride now. I’ll admit I was rather curious. It might even have been the negative criticism that piqued my interest.
Regardless, I have it now. The deeper I get into it, I realize how it’s much more tailored to me… how the handle, so to speak, and weighting is much more tailored to my style. It starts from where I come from, too caught up in writing, and all the elaborate metaphors and flowery words that come with it. It assumes nothing and begins from there, in the typical story intertwined with exposition manner I’m quite fond of.
Not that Buster Sword is a bad book. It just took a lot of prerequisites for granted, and threw all the rules of grammar and good writing out of the window — a terrible read, but educational nonetheless (probably why it never got an ISBN).
It’s sort of like comparing a model car kit to one built from scratch. A model kit has it all neatly laid out for you, all the parts, numbered and sorted, with clear and concise instructions. Scratch, well, it’s just take what you got and put it together, more like internet downloaded instructions — prone to misinterpretation, diagrams from MS-Paint with spelling errors and whatnot.
Naturally, Buster Sword stakes a claim at superiority, dismissing all other sources as inferior and false. Gunblade on the other hand, acknowledges all else, citing them as different paths to the goal. So what’s a guy to do?
At the very least, Gunblade’s a good read. We’ll see if it’s got a few pointers worth pondering. Odds are, I’ll take the best of both. It’s not like they’re competing, just targeting different niches of the same market. The trouble is always translating it all for a conservative market. Of course, the sources always say it’s all in the mind. And that leaves things open for persuasion.
PS. I wanna change this layout. And since I'm terrible with web language (refer to screwed up banner up top if you're using IE), I need someone who can sort it all out. I'll do the banners, just clean it up.
6.10.2006
Had it All Along
For a while I’ve been wondering what had happened to that Buster Sword I’ve been brandishing. Lots of talk about it, but no real word after that. In more recent events, I’ve finally revived one of my bugs after a long hiatus. Or would coma be more appropriate? Rest assured both are related.
Funny thing about the old things that you have. You keep them for a reason and you don’t really realize what it is until you’ve tried them again after a long while. Like a good old friend who’s gone away for a while, yet when he returns, things are just as if he never left. No tampuhan, no catching up to do, just a matter of pressing the resume button.
Kind of like the Beetle. I’ve been delaying reviving her for quite a while. Partly because she’s got no garage, and partly because the cars I get to borrow these days are exponentially better. Yet after a rough week, even driving her in heavy crawling EDSA traffic managed to put a smile on my face, searing heat and dodgy brakes notwithstanding. The new cars still can’t emulate the thud of a thick door and the chug chug of a flat foor.
As for the Buster Sword? Well, I thought I had tucked it away neatly, sheathed it if you will, for use in real warfare. I guess it’s one of those things that you can never really sheath. It stays with you constantly, a sidearm you draw. A situation calls for it and you reach slice and return, almost instinctively. I thought a comment the book had mentioned about the techniques had been exaggerated — about it being like martial arts, able to get you out of sticky situations, or fight your way through crowds. That too, after all, ought to be instinctive.
And as I often say, hindsight is 20-20. Perhaps I haven’t put them aside after all. I might have carried them with me all the way.
Funny thing about the old things that you have. You keep them for a reason and you don’t really realize what it is until you’ve tried them again after a long while. Like a good old friend who’s gone away for a while, yet when he returns, things are just as if he never left. No tampuhan, no catching up to do, just a matter of pressing the resume button.
Kind of like the Beetle. I’ve been delaying reviving her for quite a while. Partly because she’s got no garage, and partly because the cars I get to borrow these days are exponentially better. Yet after a rough week, even driving her in heavy crawling EDSA traffic managed to put a smile on my face, searing heat and dodgy brakes notwithstanding. The new cars still can’t emulate the thud of a thick door and the chug chug of a flat foor.
As for the Buster Sword? Well, I thought I had tucked it away neatly, sheathed it if you will, for use in real warfare. I guess it’s one of those things that you can never really sheath. It stays with you constantly, a sidearm you draw. A situation calls for it and you reach slice and return, almost instinctively. I thought a comment the book had mentioned about the techniques had been exaggerated — about it being like martial arts, able to get you out of sticky situations, or fight your way through crowds. That too, after all, ought to be instinctive.
And as I often say, hindsight is 20-20. Perhaps I haven’t put them aside after all. I might have carried them with me all the way.
