This is a story of madness and determination in the face of overwhelming challenges. Unfortunately it is, in the Shakesperean sense, a tragedy. Eveyone dies in the end.

Back in 2006 we formed Team Blue Goose to race the 24 Hours of Lemons endurance race for $500 crap cans. Our spirits were high as we hauled our first two donor CRXs out of the junkyard. They remained high as we went back for a third parts car... and then a fourth. Eventually we got enough rusted and worn out parts to assemble a "car".

Our first race in Oct 2007 Altamont California was a little like battling 100 crazed squirrels on methamphetamines. Lots of fender banging, flipped cars and mayhem. The race started with 80+ cars on a 1 mile track. Think of rush hour traffic, except that everyone is howling tires around corners, cutting across the grass and trying to kill you. We rocked the house and finished in 8th place with no mechanical issues. Unless you count losing 50% of your engine power, 70% of your bodywork and a holed oil pan as issues. We don't.

The next race was in 2008 in Houston. Right before the start our #1 piston escaped the confining oppression of the engine block. While we were happy for its newfound independence and freedom, that ended our race. We "finished first" before the race even started. The Goose won its first award for being the crappiest car in a field of 100 massively crappy cars. Fate was trying to tell us something, but our cosmic hearing aid was on the blink.

We didn't have time to do our own car prep for the Feb 2009 race. So we hired a mechanic to swap motors and do some other work. Car ran great in testing. In fact, it ran great right up until we went through tech inspection. When they tested our safety kill switch it worked too well. It shut down the engine (good) and then fried the computer and distributor (not good). We spent our enitre test day tracking down the issues. Sat was the first race day, and our car wasn't running. Plus we somehow crippled Jennifer. Matt refused to let us tear her down for spare parts, and Matt drove back to Dallas to take care of her. We were on the phone all day tracking down junkyard parts since Autozone doesn't carry much for 22 year old Hondas. After calling every junkyard in Dallas, Houston and Austin, Matt found the parts we needed. 30 minutes they were installed and the car fired right up. Woo hoo - success! There is nothing like hearing a broken race car come back to life. We finally got out on track - only about 190 laps down in 96th place. The crowd went wild, lots of cheers from our competitors.

After 40 laps we lost first, second, fourth and fifth gears. Cheering subsided. We yanked the front suspension, axles and gearbox. The clutch throwout bearing needed to be thrown out. So we bribed Autozone to deliver a new clutch, the one 1986 Honda CRX part they do carry. By now it is dark, windy and cold. We're in a parking lot, lying in a pool of oil under the car trying to get it back together with very little light. We gave up around midnight.

The next morning we agreed the smart thing to do would be to give up and go drinking. So instead we went ahead and rebuilt the car. We got the transmission back in and the car went back on track. Glorious. Car was running well and almost everyone gets a turn at driving. Then a massive cloud of burning oil signals the need for a tow truck. By now there is less than an hour left in the race, so we packed our tools and vowed to never race this horrible piece of **** race car again.

The LeMons judges awarded us the "Heroic Fix" award for being the most persistent, or at least the most persistently incompetent. Yes, that's right. Out of 100 teams running terrible cars, we both broke and fixed more than anyone else. This car's proudest accomplishment is 2 awards for not being worth a damn.

Matt just called to let me know that the car is fine, it just burned a $1 oil line. It is ready for the June New Orleans race. Please - I beseech you all. Stop us before we enter this car into another race.