The clock ticks down on the Super Bowl, and as the sports bar empties, I'm exhausted and ready to hit the sack. Too bad that's not an option. I'm in Tokyo, it's barely past noon, and in an hour, I'm going to pick up one of the first Cadillac CTS's in Japan. While my friends back home are either celebrating or drowning their sorrows into the wee hours of the night, I'll be navigating Tokyo traffic in the afternoon sun.
I burn so much time on this diversion that, as usual, we're late for our destination. As night falls, we pull back onto the highway and hope for some high-speed company to whisk us toward Nikko. At dusk, a brand-new Subaru Impreza WRX STI charges up the outside lane, and I fall in behind. We're cruising at 100 mph, the STI and I, when suddenly, he hits his brakes and dives over into the slow lane. A moment later, red lights fill my rearview mirror. That set of headlights that had been trailing me for the past couple miles? A cop.