US Racer

Description

US Racer for the PlayStation—2002’s answer to the question, “What if we made a racing game that feels like chugging a lukewarm energy drink while riding a shopping cart downhill?” Let’s be real, this game isn’t exactly the crown jewel of the PS1 era, but there’s a weird, janky charm here that’s hard to hate. Picture this: you’re slamming the accelerator in a car that handles like a cinderblock on roller skates, fishtailing through blurry, pixelated tracks that vaguely resemble American landmarks. The soundtrack? A loop of what I can only describe as “elevator music for people who really, *really* love engines.” And yet… you keep playing. Maybe it’s the sheer absurdity of the AI drivers—aggressive little gremlins who swerve into you like they’ve got a personal vendetta and a death wish. Or maybe it’s the customization, where slapping neon stripes on your sedan feels like performing open-heart surgery with a spatula.

Sure, the graphics aged like milk left in a sunroof, and the physics engine seems to operate on pure chaos theory. But there’s something oddly endearing about how US Racer doesn’t even *try* to be cool. It’s the gaming equivalent of your uncle’s karaoke rendition of “Born to Be Wild”—earnest, messy, and weirdly entertaining. You’ll curse when your car spins out for the tenth time because a pebble sneezed on the road, but you’ll also laugh when you realize you’ve spent an hour trying to beat a time trial named “Desert Duel” that’s basically just driving in a circle.

Is it a masterpiece? Oh, honey, no. But if you’ve got a soft spot for games that wear their jank like a badge of honor, US Racer is a nostalgia trip worth taking—preferably with a friend, a pizza, and zero expectations. Just don’t blame me if you start dreaming of brake failure and poorly rendered cacti.