Why Super Hang-On is absolutely nothing like the Isle of Man TT
Super Hang-On (1987)
Super Hang-On (1987)
Earlier this summer we had the Isle of Man TT this week, which brought with it an unusual piece of news: this year’s running involved not a single rider fatality. And that hasn’t happened since the year 2001.
Bit of a mad stat, isn’t it? Actually, that’s perhaps a bit of an understatement; quite literally hundreds of people have died in its running since the early 20th century, including almost 200 people since 1970. But then, it’s that old adage of dying doing what you love, isn’t it?
If you haven’t heard of the TT, it’s a weeklong motorcycle race event around the Manx island, where safety isn’t too much of a priority. Well, it never really is a priority when it comes to bikes.
I suppose it becomes a case of where one draws the line. If you suddenly somehow die to a heart attack on the back of your bike, while breaking 180mp/h, with the wind at your feet, then that’s pretty badass. But being unseated, and smashing into the side of a residential home, that’s not too fun, is it?
I’m awfully glad that there were no fatalities in the Isle of Man Tourist Trophy this year, but who knows what next year will bring. When those fearsomely brave riders pack their bags for the island, they know that there’s a very real possibility that it’ll be them popping their clogs this year, another thrill-seeker who pushed it too far.
But listen, you and I both know that bikeheads are nutters like that. Dicing with death and coming out the other side is what it’s all about. So when you hear mealy-mouthed bedwetters like me talking about safety and how they should cancel the Isle of Man TT, well, that kind of talk always needs to be shut down, instantly. Anyone going knows the risks, and after all, it’s their life to throw away.
There is something majestic about a bike travelling that fast through built-up areas, coming so close to a horrendous incident that it actually brings a fatalistic smile and laugh to your face. I’m afraid I’m not the kind of journalist type who’ll get down on the ground and bring you the full insight and anecdotal account. I can only advise you to have a look at some helmet-camera footage on YouTube to see just how mad these boys really get.
And it really is almost always boys. Girls can ride a mean bike as well of course, I’m in no doubt there. But it’s usually only men who fly around the world and queue up willingly to drive at impossible speeds towards brick walls. It gives you a clue as to why women have a longer life expectancy.
But God do I love racing. And I’m glad that humans love racing as well. I cannot imagine the level of focus, bravery and intelligence required to ride so quickly around the 17-minute tour of the island. In fact, I’m surprised it’s not a woman who carries the lap record; any male riders surely find themselves handicapped for the race with two massive bits of steel ballast between their legs.
Don’t forget that you’re not just time-trialling out there, oh no. You are competing to win, on track, against other riders. This is what you call proper wheel-to-wheel racing, where one mistake or unsettlement or foot wrong will result in… well, probably two more stiffs for the morgue, or at the very least, a pair of bruised tailbones and very bruised egos.
And oh, I haven’t even got to the real nutcases yet, the ones who take part in the Sidecar TT. Here, you’re no longer on a bike; it’s more like a sort of motorised, modified bobsled, and while one person takes the usual risks as the driver, his mate is stuck out on the sidecar, quite literally swinging their body around the car, milimetres from the asphalt, trying to help the thing turn.
Sounds insane, right? And it doesn’t even stop there. This is a team event of course, and you often see best pals, or father and son pairs, compete in this event, which just blows my mind. I wouldn’t put my worst enemy out there on that sidecar, for God’s sake.
No, no, I’ll stick to safe racing at home, thank you. It’s a good thing I didn’t grow up to be a mental biker actually, given how many hours I spent playing Super Hang-On for Sega Mega Drive. This is an arcade port actually, and in the end it wasn’t a particularly great one given the massive hit that the frame-rate took - almost as dramatic as an unseated TT rider smashing into the local pub with their head in their hands - but what can you expect from 1987 technology?
One thing’s for sure, it looks, sounds and plays a lot better than Excitebike. Really, Super Hang-On and its predecessor (a lot less super and merely called Hang-On) are derivatives of Sega’s earlier game, the iconic Out Run. I must say that Out Run holds a lot more appeals for me - four wheels being better than two and all that, plus you’re in a Ferrari with a blonde babe alongside you.
But Super Hang-On, unlike the Isle of Man TT, isn’t circuit-based racing; it’s a sprint to the end, from A to B, and you’re going so fast that you can complete the four continents that serve as stages, Africa, Asia, America and Europe, in just a few minutes each.
Mind you, that’s if you’re good enough to even get to the end. Crash once, a violent throwing of your body over the handlebars and into a massive rock while several bikes zoom past you, and you might get away with it. You might make it to the next checkpoint gate before the timer runs out. Crash twice, though, and you’ve just about had it. Well, I suppose it’s more forgiving than real-life biking… and crashing.
It’s worth it to do your best and, er, “hang on”, though, because after every two checkpoints the colours and surroundings change with a beautiful transition, and it really looks the business. It almost makes me want to go out there and bike across Europe. I said almost. And if you manage to get to the end of the latter stages, you might just realise that I was right about female riders being just as good, or perhaps better, than the men.
The Mega Drive home version even adds a new career mode, where you start off with an old backmarker bike and try to earn sponsorship and money to develop new parts, and beat new rivals. It’s kind of cute, and I spent a lot of time on it as a child without really getting anywhere. But again, damage your own parts too much and your career is over in a hurry. The passwords take all day to write down as well, and I always seemed to get them wrong.
But do you see what I mean? Here I am, fussing about old video game passwords and frame-rates and graphics, while those bike-riding mentallers are out there, every day, practicing for a death-defying island race. Even their practice runs fifty times more exhilarating than my life will ever be. But you know what? They’re welcome to that, because Super Hang-On is just enough two-wheeled fun for me, thank you very much.
26 July 2024