Got road rage? Drivers at the California State Fair demolition derby live your dream

“You ready to see some metal-bendin’?” announcer Richard Lavallee said as he kicked off the demolition derby at the California State Fair in Sacramento. The crowd went wild.

Five minutes later, when a truck rounded the dirt arena spraying water to keep the dust at bay, the crowd went even wilder. “MVP! MVP!” they chanted, some begging the truck to tilt its hose their way.

Hundreds gathered, undeterred by the 106-degree day, to watch eight drivers ram busted, unmuffled cars into each other for an hour and a half on Saturday night. The drivers dish out thousands of dollars, hours of time and sometimes their own bodies in order to participate in the ultimate display of road rage. While the audience gets a rare delight of watching cars crash on purpose, the drivers say they get an unparalleled adrenaline rush and community.

“It’s not every day you see people purposely crashing into each other,” said Kandice Leon of Sacramento, a longtime derby fan.

Demolition derby is a state and county fair staple. The eight drivers at this year’s event were tasked with driving their custom-built cars into each other until only one car remained functional. As the car crashes grew louder, faster and more destructive, the crowd’s enthusiasm crescendoed.

“I’m waiting for the cars to flip,” said 10-year-old Brian Vandercourt of San Francisco. Vandercourt plays a lot of demolition derby video games, he said, but Saturday’s event was his first glimpse at real-world destruction.

Though one car lit on fire, none flipped over. Vandercourt decided it was worth it nevertheless “because of the impact and the destruction.”

Derby takes a physical toll

Katrina Jackson watched the derby from the announcer’s stand, looking longingly as the busted cars tore up the dirt arena. She’s got a silver ring around her lip — and silver rods in her back.

In April, while derbying in a van spray painted with “Sweet but Psycho,” the 5-foot-2, purple-haired driver broke her back. Scars along her spine mark where a metal rod was slipped in to repair two crushed vertebrae.

“I already told my doctor I’m not retiring,” she said. She’s planning on re-entering the derby ring next year.

“The fact that I broke my back, walked away and I still get to show up some of the boys, like, that’s awesome,” she said.

When you crash cars for fun, injury comes with the hobby. A staff of paramedics waited on the sidelines during the competition, though no one was seriously injured at Saturday night’s event.

“Yeah, people get hurt all the time. My son-in-law broke his thumb. Got a buddy of mine that shattered his shin bone. I mean, a lot of times (the drivers will) bite through their lip or break their nose,” said Rich Rutledge. The 57-year-old was one of the most experienced drivers at Saturday’s event.

For the drivers, the threat of injury isn’t enough to outweigh the excitement of the demolition derby.

“I always tell my wife, it’s the funnest thing I can do with my clothes on,” said Rutledge. “There’s nothing that I’ve ever done to the, to the excitement you get for doing something like this.”

Want to be a derby driver? It’s going to cost you

The first-place prize of $5,000 might only cover a driver’s rear end. Literally.

“You’ll never win enough to cover the expenses,” said Ryan Chivers, the winner of Saturday’s derby.

Another driver and longtime derby devotee, Rich Rutledge, said the rear end will cost about $5,000, the transmission $12,000 and the motor around $7,000. The tires? $130 apiece. The tire rims: an extra $80. And most of these pieces need to be replaced after one or two derbies.

“Probably if a guy wanted to start derby of this caliber, this build, and he’s never done anything, he’s gonna start from scratch, he’s probably gonna have to have at least 18 grand,” Rutledge said.

The derby drivers and their crew usually get to split the ticket sales on top of prize winnings. Or at least what’s left of it after the tow crew, tractors, on-call ambulance and other show elements are paid.

A family affair

At the derby on Saturday, at least five Rutledges accompanied Rich.

“When we get to the Derby, it’s just like a big family reunion,” said Bobby Rutledge, Rich’s son. He was at Saturday’s event to crew his father’s car, helping fix the busted vehicle in between heats of the competition.

Ninety percent of his friends are in the derby community, Rutledge said. Though he doesn’t drive himself — the time and money required doesn’t fit into his life as a business owner and father of young children, he said — he runs a podcast, “Talk Derby to Me,” where he discusses the ins and outs of the sport.

Chivers started derbying because his father did it, a refrain echoed by many members at the derby. Both are now iron workers and prepare the car together, welding it to grungy perfection.

“I’m pretty mellow,” Chivers said as he and his father rigged his demolished car to a trailer to take it home to San Jose at the end of the night. “I don’t need to have road rage. I come here.”

Though he successfully rammed the competing cars to their sputtering deaths on Saturday, there’s no need to fear him on your daily commute.

He’s an “excellent” driver, he said — he’s never even gotten a ticket.