The Tihsepa Eliminator
A few moons ago, the elusive “Brock Yates Eliminator” strutted onto the auction stage like a long-legged seductress in a tawdry Vegas revue. As the bidding frenzy ignited, my posse and I were locked in a manic dance of deliberation.
“When the hell will we ever get a shot at snagging an iconic American race car without selling our kidneys?” I wondered aloud, my voice dripping with a tinge of desperation.
One of my wild-eyed compadres chimed in, his gaze fixed on the tantalizing prospect before us. “It’s a bona fide hot rod, but also a machine designed for the grand prix. Hell, you can even haul your groceries in it if you fancy. So, which one of us is brave enough to snatch it from the jaws of conformity?”
Another frenetic voice cut through the chaos, “Someone’s gotta seize this beast and unleash it on the Cannon Ball run!”
Little did we know, our initial foray into this wild rodeo of lust and greed was naively misguided. The Eliminator, as it turned out, spiraled into a spending spree frenzy, fetching a hefty price tag well north of a quarter million greenbacks.
Yet, it’s worth mentioning that branding this machine as the “Brock Yates” Eliminator might just be another swerve in the desert highway of deception. You see, this contraption was birthed into existence by none other than the enigmatic Duffy Livingstone.
Now, does that name stir your latent memories? Duffy, a man whose fingerprints were smeared all over the “Go-Kart” brand, but before his dalliance with those diminutive demons, he was possessed by an insatiable obsession to dominate grand prix racing in a hot rod. The car’s initial owner, the famed Lotus conjurer Jay Chamberlin, had ignited the spark of its transformation into a racing beast but later lost his mojo. Enter Duffy, who swooped in like a vulture with a mission.
He proceeded to jerry-rig a sports racer, initially propelled by a flathead engine, but soon swapping it out for a small-block Chevy, as if to proclaim, “We’re going big, or we’re going home!”
With the metamorphosis complete, Duffy took the wheel, guiding this mighty steed into the treacherous realms of both SCCA and USAC contests – sometimes pitting his creation against open-wheeled daredevils, and other times dueling the juggernauts of Ferrari and Porsche. On his entry forms, he bestowed upon it the cryptic moniker “Tihsepa Eliminator.” Spin those words around and you’ll unravel the riddle for yourself.
But the legend has a few more tricks up its sleeve… In 1959, a regional Grand Prix unfurled its majesty in Pomona. The Eliminator, with Duffy at the helm, not only outpaced the likes of Jim Hall but also left F1 maestro Wolfgang Von Tripps gasping for exhaust fumes. Duffy’s valiant effort culminated in an eleventh-place finish, nipping at the heels of none other than the indomitable Dan Gurney. That, my fellow road warriors, is how the Eliminator etched its name into the annals of legend.
As fate would have it, Duffy eventually grew weary of his creation, allowing it to meander through the winding roads of Southern California like a wandering spirit. Enter the maverick scribe himself, Brock Yates, who stumbled upon a cryptic classified ad that beckoned him like a siren’s call. Unable to resist its charms, he spirited the machine away to his lair, where he, along with a congregation of legends, breathed life back into the old beast. Oh, and let’s not forget the relentless scribbling, as Brock poured his wild tales onto the pages of history.
In any case, this is the dissonant masterpiece that is the “Brock Yates Eliminator.” Dope, right? If only we had a quarter million and change a few months back…