Porsche Challenge - Game Review by Salem

I dropped her into 3rd, stamped on the gas and passed the idiot in the white van on the inside lane. Narrowly I avoided the erratic maneuverings of a blue Datsun (taxi driver no doubt) as I watched the needle crawl steadily towards 50mph. At 50mph I smashed the clutch to the floor and manhandled the gearstick into 4th. Time was running out and if I missed the deadline all would be lost. With only another 2 minutes to achieve my destination I decided that a shortcut was in order. I eased off the gas and steadily applied the breaks, dropping from 4th to 2nd in a single motion, all the while bracing myself for what could with ill timing be the last mistake I would make. The revs hit the roof as I removed my foot from the clutch but I knew that the drop in gears would give me assistance in breaking that I would so vitally need to stop the car rolling onto its roof on the coming corner. I watched as the corner grew steadily closer. 50 meters, 35, 20, at 15 meters I lifted my foot from the break snatched at the handbrake and turned sharply right. The car slid for what seemed to me to be a lifetime, I was loosing control and I knew it. In desperation I dropped the handbrake and attempted to give the accelerator pedal a new home on the underside of the car. For a second I heard nothing save the screech of rubber on wet tarmac and the thumping of my heart as adrenaline smashed its way through my body. The cars traction control struggled to gain a purchase on the slippery road surface, but this time my luck was in. The rear offside tire struck the pavement with a thump, the cars tires found the grip that they sought and I sped off leaving little behind other than a scrape of alloy on the pavement and a collection of bemused onlookers, who were no doubt casting aspirations as to the dubious nature of my parentage. My chances of arriving in time had improved immeasurably and as I worked my way up through the gearbox I grew evermore confident and any doubt in my abilities evaporated faster than a puddle on a baking hot summers day.

Then I heard it. The last sound I could possibly want to hear (other than the sound of an engine exploding that is). The two tone war cry of a police cruiser. For a second I considered simply pulling over to the curb and letting the police book me like a good citizen should. For a second. Then I remembered that I had been stopped in similar circumstances twice before. This time there would be no slap on the wrist, this time it would be game over and a ride back to the station in the back of the cruiser. I knew that there was no way I could outrun the cruiser, my car was fast but not nearly fast enough. I would have to rely on my driving ability and failing that my general insanity. I turned the vehicle towards the city and my destination. I would use the traffic to lose my pursuer, but I would have to be quick about it, if I was eyeballed by a police helicopter there would be no escape.

I threw the car through a series of maneuvers back and forth in the traffic, checking my rear view mirror to see if I still had a tail. The driver of the cruiser had either been though an advanced driving course or worse still had as big a disregard for his own safety and of that of others that I had. He determinedly failed to make a mistake, and he stayed on my rear bumper like he had been glued there. If I couldn't lose the fool in the next 40 seconds not only would I risk missing my deadline, but I would probably be scraping into the average response time for the eye in the sky. 20 seconds later I saw my opportunity in a large white articulated lorry. I swerved to the left and prayed that my gambit would work. It did. He matched my maneuver precisely and accelerated in the hope of pinning me to the side of the truck. I hit the brakes and adjusted my steering wildly and nearly concertina'd the front of the car on the read end of the truck. Thankfully I just clipped the offside wing on the bars at the back of the wagon. I watched as the cruiser over shot its mark and smiled at the driver until he disappeared down his side of the truck. The next maneuver would be a match for my earlier handbrake experience, but this time the margin for error would be drastically reduced. A foot to far and I would bounce back into the road and the side of the truck and a foot short and I would lose all four tires and most probably the use of my legs. Once more my luck held out and I peeled off down the road at a right angle to my original course. The thought of the cruiser driver waiting for me to appear at the other end of the truck brought a wry smile to my face, but the hilarity of the situation was to be cut short as I realized I had one a minute to reach my destination. After the events of the last couple of minutes I was determined not to arrive too late. I gunned my way back up through the transmission and watched the speedometers needle leap up the scale, wincing at the thought of the damage that I had done to my prized possession and the damage that I was doing to the engine now. Then I saw it, my destination a mere 200 meters from my location. I had 40 seconds left to go, I was sure I would make it. 15 seconds later I screeched my way onto the car park eyeing up a parking space dead ahead. 20 meters from the space I hit the hand break and worked the gearstick into the reverse position, the car slide through 180 degrees and I hit the gas just one last time, just long enough to get traction and maintain my momentum backwards into the parking space. I pressed the brake pedal and watched as the speed dropped slowly to zero. I got out of the car and took a second to admire a picture perfect parking job (if only it could always be that way). I then ran to the doors pausing for a second to slap the greasy teenager who was attempting to lock the door out of the way. I was not to be denied my prize. Dragon said that Porsche 2000 had hit the shelves on a budget title and I was going to make sure I got my copy come hell or high water.

Why do I do this to myself? I have to follow that with a review now.

Starting with outward appearances, EAs' Porsche 2000 (or Porsche Unleashed depending on your nationality) comes, as do the rest of the EA budget range, in a classy new DVD style case that should ensure your copy doesn't wind up looking like Torvill and Dean have done their gold medal winning ice routine on it.

The rear of the box shows a series of stunning screenshots that failed to impress me. I have seen this form of chicanery before its called bait and switch, give the buyer a screen shot of a pre-rendered sequence on the box and giggle yourself sick when they fail for it.

Boy was I wrong.