Growing up in NYC in the late 60s/early 70s streetracing was as common as sewer rats so any gerhead from then has tons of stories. You could literally go anywhere and find a race on one of NYC's many highways. In Queens, one of the places to hang was the World's Fair Marina parking lot not far from Shea Stadium. We'd meet there, set-up a race & go up on the Van Wyck Expressway and square-off. The neat thing about the lot was, for some reason they had laid two strips of asphalt on either side the length of the lot. Guys would do burn-outs & generally show-off while everyone parked in between these two strips.
Back then I had a tubbed & caged Chevy powered Pinto (apply appropriate comments here) that was "ProStreet" before the term became popular. On this particular night some guy comes in with a '68 or so Mustang, smokes the tires the length of the asphalt strip, jumps out & says he'll run ANYONE for ANY amount--dumb thing to do in NYC. Dumber still, my buddies convince me to square-off with him, but first I should "test" the car. I pull up onto the asphalt, bring the revs up & dump the clutch. The front-end rises somewhat, as expected, but when I grabbed second I felt a jolt I never really had felt before. I continue on my little "test", turn around & park across from the Mustang, get out & just lean against the car. Before my friends could get to me the guy jumps in his 'stang & bolts out of the lot. Confused, I just sit there until my friends join me. One of my friends then tells me the guy just about s#$t himself, as when I grabbed second I had apparently pulled the front wheels a foot or so! I had never done that before so I was (rightly) proud of the display. The pride didn't last long though as some guys from Brooklyn showed up with a trailerd car & wanted to run me. My wallet & ego simply couldn't afford that type of race.
Years later my Dad was doing some charity work outside Shea Stadium when he met a police officer who told a story of his older brother taking him to the street races near there when he was younger. He remembered a bright green Pinto he thought the guy driving it was nuts & wondered whatever became of it. My Dad just laughed & said he knew of the car & yes, the guy DID have a few screws loose. Thanks, Dad!