2003 Pontiac Vibe Gt 6 Speed No Reserve on 2040-cars

Auto blog

Baseball team to dress like Trans Am, complete with screaming chicken

Come to think of it, the Screaming Chicken actually sounds like the name of a minor league baseball team. Well, it isn't, but the famous logo of the same name that graced the hood of the 1970s Pontiac Trans Am will at least be making it to a baseball uniform this summer. The Lansing Lugnuts, a Single-A affiliate of the Toronto Blue Jays, will be rocking these special uniforms to honor the late Burt Reynolds and his film Smokey and the Bandit. By default, it will also be honoring the car the movie made famous: the 1977 Trans Am painted black with gold trim and, of course, the screaming chicken on the hood. This is a pretty good history of the emblem. So why the Lugnuts and Burt Reynolds? Although he claimed to be born in Georgia for much of his career, he admitted in a 2015 autobiography that he was in fact born in Lansing, Mich. After a few years, his family settled in Florida. Not exactly hometown hero stuff, but minor league baseball promotions have been made of more tenuous connections. The Burt Reynolds tribute night will be July 20, and if you want to get a screaming chicken jersey for yourself (I mean, wouldn't they be perfect for a cars and coffee?), the game-used jerseys will be auctioned off for charity after the game.

Camaro-based Trans Am SE Bandit Edition borrows Burt Reynolds

For some reason, modifying modern Chevrolet Camaros into the lurching, reincarnated shells of the Pontiac brand is still a thing. If you're the perverse sort that likes this kind of thing, you should check out the latest product from the Trans Am Depot, which comes complete with an endorsement from the star of Smokey and the Bandit, Burt Reynolds. Yes, the new Trans Am SE Bandit Edition has been signed and endorsed by the man himself, but what's important here is not the signature on the dash, it's the bits of Camaro that have been modified. Aesthetically, that means a Bandit-and-Frog-approved set of T-tops, a front-opening hood with a very large, prominent shaker scoop, an equally large and prominent screaming chicken, and Trans Am-inspired front and rear fascias. And naturally, Burt Reynolds' signature adorns the dash. There are plenty of reminders in the cabin about this car's Hollywood inspiration, too. Bandit decals can be found on the front headrests and center console lid, there are chicken wings on the Camaro-spec plastic door inserts, and the black-and-tan color scheme matches nicely with the exterior look. And power? Well, Sheriff Buford T. Justice would have a lot more trouble keeping up with this Trans Am than he did with the original. The 7.4-liter LSX V8 has been paired with a 2.9-liter supercharger which is good for 840 horsepower. It's fast and loud, and even if you can't get behind the look (we can't), at least this Camaro-in-Trans Am's clothing can impress with its performance. The Bandit Edition is limited to just 77 units with prices starting around $115,000. You can check out the official video from Trans Am Depot, which comes with a decent helping of Burt Reynolds, up top. Related Video:

This junkyard '91 Grand Am is as hooptie as it gets

I spend a lot of time in junkyards. A lot of time. With all this experience, I have learned to recognize a perfect hooptie when I see one, a car whose final owner got every last bit of use out of it when its value was hovering right about at scrap value. This 1991 Pontiac Grand Am that I spotted in a San Francisco Bay Area self-service wrecking yard a few days ago, from the final model year for the third-generation Grand Am, checks all the hooptie boxes just right. First of all, it's a low-option coupe with the wretched and unloved GM Iron Duke engine, a rattly, gnashy, thrashy 2.5-liter four-cylinder kludged together using off-the-shelf parts from the Pontiac 301-cubic-inch V8 during the darkest years of the Malaise Era and used in cars whose buyers just didn't care. Most of the paint has been burned off by 25 years of harsh California sun, but the car spent sufficient time in a damp, shady spot for lichens to build up here and there. There are skeletons-with-sombreros stencils sprayed here and there, plus a big moonshine-guzzling skeleton mural painted on the hood. Goodbye, property values! Still, someone felt some affection for this car, giving it the name "Good Ol' Snakey" and painting that name on the decklid. We can assume that the Iron Duke was a bit loose by this time, probably leaving a serpentine trail of blue smoke behind the car at all times. So, the combination of cheapness, ugliness, menace, and who-gives-a-damn functionality make this Grand Am an excellent example of a pure hooptie. Within a couple of months, it will be crushed, shredded, shipped out of the Port of Oakland, and reborn in China as refrigerators and Geely Emgrands. Somewhere in Northern California, though, a few of Ol' Smokey's friends will remember this car fondly.