All around me, they bayed for burnouts

IT'S Port Wakefield Rd at 2am on a Sunday and suddenly the air is split by the sound of screaming tyres and the yells of a baying crowd as they surge forward. I'm in the middle of it all, caught up in the sheer stupidity of mob rule. Around me are hundreds of hoons and I'm watching them block the road, break the law and laugh as they put lives at risk. Suddenly another noise cuts through the tearing of tyres on bitumen. It's the blaring of a horn as a motorist slips past their lookout and hits a wall of smoke. I can imagine what he would have seen as he approached the Lower Light turnoff: both northbound lanes cloaked in a cloud of white, headlights spinning and sliding and the glimpse of a car hurtling through the haze in his direction. He would have hit the brakes and crawled through the crowd in confusion, perhaps uttering... [read full story]                    

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