Don't Bet Your Pride

Youth is the time we all learn hard lesson. I learned one by taking a sucker bet in high school. The story begins with my new car, a 1974 Chevrolet Vega GT like the one pictured below.



My Vega GT was actually faster than the one in the picture because it had a racing stripe - a big wide black one right down the center of the hood and tailgate. I was very proud of my new car. The only cars I had driven in the past were my father's station wagon and an old Ford Maverick. He did let me drive the Pontiac Catalina a couple times, but not very often, probably because so much tire tread was missing when I returned it. So my Vega GT was the coolest car I had ever driven. Little did I know that it would one day be voted one of the 10 worst cars ever built. I got rid if the car before learning that hard lesson.

One day during my senior year, I was probably bragging about how fast my Vega was off the line, so a friend of mine offered to bet me that he could beat my car in a 20 yard dash. I would drive my car and he would run. It thought I could take him, so I accepted. We then negotiated the terms of the bet. He opened at $100 which was far too much for me. We eventually agreed to bet no money, but instead, bet our prides. The winner would take the pride of the other. Sounded like a no lose bet to me.

After school that day, we gathered in the parking lot for the race. After measuring off 20 yards, we got set at the start line. My buddy was in a sprinters stance, while I rev'ed the powerful 140 cubic inch Vega engine. The starter gave us the signal and I dumped the clutch while my buddy sprinted the short 20 yards. Funny thing about the Vega was that it's rear end was extremely light. Instead of surging forward, I experienced a quirk of the model called "wheel hop". The rear tires would start hopping instead of providing smooth acceleration. The race wasn't even close. A person will win that race every time because no car (not even a Vega) can accelerate that faster than a human in the first 20 yards.

Yet, I was not giving up. My buddy, knowing that I had no chance, offered best 2 out of 3, then 3 out of 5 and so on. Each time he crossed the finish line long before I and my powerhouse Vega. At some point, I handed over my pride and gave up. For months after that day, my buddy would remind me that he held my pride. In the end, I would have been better off losing a $100.