All people have been talking about in sports is the NCAA tournament. Now, I love my skiing and racquetball, but there are other sports, right under our noses. In a somehow related statement, my friend Jimmy has very different ways than the rest of the world for taking out aggression. One is a sport that involves a very large golf cart.

Hey, the statements do relate!

Jimmy had been telling me for the past five months how amazing this little car is. It is called a "Baja" for the gearheads in the crowd, but I could not picture it from the name. My car knowledge doesn't extend beyond family-sized sedans. Jimmy has been telling his friends for months about this car: how he drove it, how he did a run with it out in a West Coast contest, how he loved it, how he bathed it, how he skydived on Valentine's Day with it, etc. One thing I can say is that I've wanted to see this thing for a while.

This "Baja" turned out to be a jungle gym with an engine and extra maneuverability. It really is a dune buggy, built out of metal bars, a large seat, and a whole lot of gears. It goes over tough terrain and generally looks like a dream for anyone who grew up on K'NEX. UIC has a dedicated group of people doing this, and they're called SAE, which I assume stands for something smart.

Next thing I noticed about the car (after the car) was the fire extinguisher next to where my right ear would be. The car was built with complete safety in mind, making sure I could reach out with my elbows to keep my hair from bursting into flame. The kill switch for the engine was on the wheel, and it had to be a big red button. As another safety feature of the car, there is a seatbelt. But this is no ordinary seatbelt: needless to say, you have to strap in like a racecar driver! VROOOOOOM!!!

Quite the rush. Honestly, driving on a college quad might not have been on my Things to Do before I Die list, but it's checked off now. I think I made the sharpest turn I'll ever make on a road (admittedly, a quad is not a road: this thing required much tighter turns than any street). This buggy could move--turn, spin, and possibly flip burgers for you, and those would be delicious.

Jimmy stopped me a few times and asked me to try a few moves, mostly to test the performance and make sure the thing can be kept in working condition. As I listened, I positioned my elbow as well as I could over the edge of where the driver-side door/window would be. I kept up that hope to look cool, while avoiding sunglasses. It was midnight.

Allow me to switch into present tense: the next one looks risky. Mount Kilimanjaro-risky. There are several fairly tall block benches around the field. Jimmy wants me to drive over one. I gulp a little bit. Keep in mind, this car is very low to the ground: I could reach the pavement with my hand while still restrained by my seatbelt. It feels like I'm about to drive a donut over a dictionary. But Jimmy said the donut could do it...

I line the wheels up with the marble block. I make the VROOM noise. I hit the gas.

VROOMVROOMVROOM! BUMP! CRUNCH! POP!

That didn't sound good. The car won't move any further. Yeah, that was bad. Where's that fire extinguisher again? Left or right ear?

Oh, good. I'm not on fire. Neither is the engine. Both, good signs.

I hopped out as Jimmy took a look. He sounded a little dismayed. We wheeled the car back: it looks like we popped some thingamajig in the back, and it would likely need to be re-welded. Apparently, I did that thing in. Who else can break a heavily-welded piece of steel equipment but me? I leaned in and had a look at the oil-covered machinery. I eyed it like I would anything I don't know the name of or function of.

"Andy, were you drinking? I just realized I smelled alcohol."

So I'd been drinking. So there had been a 21st birthday party a few hours ago. It was only two glasses of champagne! A few hours ago! But, I can now officially say I'm eligible for a DUI, or at least a free breathalyzer test. And it soooo didn't affect my driving ability. Honest, officer.