This dad's story of racing his Porsche 911 proves there is no substitute...for love:
When the first two-syllable word he spoke was "Por-sha," I wasn't surprised. He plays with miniature GT3s and Turbos now, steers them around tracks of his own imagination on the tile floor. I took him to a PCA club race and he cheered for a purple 911SC that finished in last place, trailing blue smoke.I still don't understand why a seller would extract a promise from the buyer not to race it in the first place, though. Anyone? Bueller?