And now I know: changing gears is a fucking chore.
This year, in my mid-thirties, I finally learned to drive.
And weirdly, a racing game about destroying clapped-out old bangers helped me along.
Thank youWreckfest, for all the bottled road rage you allowed me to unleash.
Wreckfest has been helpful as an outlet for the anti-calm that would envelope me after any given driving lesson.
you’re free to slide round dirt tracks in a battered station wagon.
you could get in a fight with twenty combine harvesters.
It has become one of my favourite games this year, despite the fact it came out in 2018.
John called it an"antidote to po-faced racing sims"when it was released.
But I only discovered it while writing our list of thebest racing games.
La la la, we sing to ourselves as we forget about death again, dum-dee-dum.
Some thalassophobes playingSubnauticawill discover that stepping into abyssal aquatic terror offers a kind of release.
So too does the stressful driver get relief from joining a multiplayer server titled: “Fuckfest!
It’s not (just) about throwing the normal rules of driving into the bin.
It’s about throwing away your fear of messing up in the most mortal way.
You have a health meter, but nothing here can hurt you.
Ah, video games.
Dangerous driving IRL is not some laudable thing.
Yes, I am late to the party.
But arriving late and safe is better than fast and not at all.
