“You race like a poodoo!” podracer Ben Quadinaros, a large bit of snot whose body is 60% face, yells as we sweep through a turn side-by-side. “Right,” I think as I begin to channel my inner Dale Earnhardt, “you’re going in the wall”. The blatant side-swipe that dashes Ben and his gangly craft against the rocks of the narrow trench also wipes me out. Usually in this sort of situation I’d respawn unrepentant, but Star Wars: Galactic Racer’s geared to force you to consider any carelessness and rue any mistakes.
