It's 1:00 a.m. on a muggy Friday in September. While most of Miami sleeps, ten sleek foreign automobiles speed toward the metropolis's western edge. Young men steer the growling, low-riding vehicles west on lonely Tamiami Trail. When the convoy reaches Krome Avenue, it turns right and travels north about five miles. At a pitch-black and empty stretch, eight of the cars fan out to both shoulders. Two stay on the road, side by side. They are preparing to race, not to win a prize nor settle a dispute, but for pride, bragging... More >>>