'Gran Turismo' VR Turned Me Into Ricky Bobby

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Here's the deal: I'm the best there is. Plain and simple. I wake up in the morning and I piss excellence. I'm just a big hairy American winning machine, you know?

Sorry.

I didn't mean that.

I'll explain why I've been speaking, thinking, and dreaming in Talladega Nightsisms—sometimes uncontrollably!—this month. Earlier this year, the kind folks at Sony sent Esquire a PSVR2—which, if those letters mean nothing to you, is a virtual-reality headset designed for the PlayStation 5—and I hardly touched it. Without getting too far in the angry-video-game-message-board weeds, some gamers argued that Sony released a $500-plus VR headset without all that many games to go along with it. Since I'm too much of a wuss to tussle with the tall lady from Resident Evil Village, this poor bundle of wires and cameras and joysticks sat in the same basket where I keep my cat's toys.

The PSVR2 sat there, surrounded by wands and squeaky mice, until I saw the trailer for the Gran Tursimo movie—which, another long story short, loosely tells the story of a real kid who played the popular racing sim so damn well that he started racing cars IRL. The film hits theaters today. I can do that! I thought. I Googled Gran Turismo and realized its developers recently updated its newest entry (Gran Turismo 7) so that it's compatible in the PSVR2. Game on.

If you haven't played a Gran Turismo title before, here's the first thing to know: It's less Fast & Furious and Need for Speed, and more Getting Your License at the DMV. This was a surprise. Legitimately, Gran Turismo 7 puts your ass in a Honda Civic before it even lets you think about going Drive For Survive on randos online. A Honda Civic! It was the opposite of what I expected I'd do in the first hour of a racing game (please refer to Xzibit's Pimp My Ride episode; my man had a slot machine where the side-door window was supposed to be), learning to accelerate, brake, and turn properly. In virtual reality, the experience leans a little: You're an Uber driver picking up Cindy and Bobby from their movie-theater date, but you're taking the Circuit of Spa-Francorchamps in Belgium to get there. It's hilarious.

Now, I've played some fairly ridiculous games in virtual reality—from Iron Man VR to a few janky football sims where the coolest thing is looking at your forearm mini-playbook—but Gran Turismo 7 is the first thing that's ever sold me on the idea of paying $550 to play a single video game. It's downright addictive. The only way to describe it? It'll read like hyperbole to you. You truly feel like you're in the car, gazing at rivers and lakes from your window, hearing the roar of your engine, and bumping against rival vehicles (even though, with Gran Turismo's hyperreal approach, it's highly discouraged). It felt like the first time I understood virtual-reality gaming. If you're not named Lewis Hamilton, this is what you've got. After a couple weeks with Gran Turismo, I've graduated to Ferraris and DeLoreans. Not bad for a New Yorker who hasn't driven an actual car since 2016.

But when I play Gran Turismo online, against other gamers, I'm clearly still at a KinderCare level—in my first race, someone told me to stick to Mario Kart. Very kind! But that doesn't mean I'll stop trying.

And you know what they say.

If you ain't first, you're last.

The Ricky Bobby Starter Pack

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