I became a racing game aficionado at age five playing Lego Racers on my great grandfather's Windows 95 Gateway PC. And I've been a car enthusiast since my days careening the Subaru Impreza Rally Car '99 into walls on the dirt stages of Gran Turismo 2. But sim racing never quite did it for me, and that's become a problem, because sims have largely supplanted mainstream racing games.
Bored during the pandemic and flush with cash after being laid off from my food service job, I bought a Thrustmaster T150 RS—an entry-level rig with a wheel, three-pedal box, and manual shifter (the third pedal and gearbox were extra). I drove my favorite tuner cars in Forza Horizon 4 and tried to make "realistic" driving videos like those viral guys on YouTube do with their thousand-dollar rigs. In sim racing, the sky's the limit; the logical conclusion of the genre is a hardware setup that reproduces every microscopic vibration of your in-game car via high-tech hardware like force-feedback steering wheels and haptic seating.
