Is This The Vento Cup Car You'Ve Always Wanted?

Win on Sunday, sell on Monday, and more clichés…

- Sirish Chandran

MOTORSPORT DOES STRANGE THINGS to people. No, not leaving you broke, that’s the obvious outcome of going racing; don’t tell me you haven’t heard of the fastest way to make a million (sink a billion into racing) or shutter an airline (buy an F1 team).

I mean motorsport rewires you fundamentally. It made me religious. When your kit – helmet, intercom, suits, shoes, everything – arrives at 4am on the day before your very first rally, even an atheist will start believing in a higher power; when a tea bush stops you from rolling down a hill and into a river you will not use 'thank god' in vain. It also made me a believer in all this numerology bullshit. When your first competition number is your birth date, and you win that rally, you’re easily sold on the concept of ‘your number’. Apparently mine is 8, and any variation of it, anywhere – registration number of my rally car, my apartment number, even hotel rooms (don’t judge me) – pleases me no end.

Today I’m pleased as punch. The red race car you see here is ‘my’ car, the souped-up Vento that I made my racing debut in a few months ago. It’s still carrying my competition number. 22. Two plus two equals four, which is half of eight, and #22 took me to the podium. Cue even more belief in this nonsense.

Motorsport also does strange things to cars, like making them go faster. Nothing strange or shockingly revelatory here, but pertinent considering the roots of the GTI badge are in motorsport. And I’m not exercising creative license when I say the Polo GTI is the road-legal equivalent of the Vento Cup car.