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Jay Leno tries out a 1970 Pontiac GTO Judge that looks factory fresh

The latest machine to show up on Jay Leno's Garage is arguably the most iconic Pontiac GTO, the 1970 Judge. The example here is a radically red model and features all of the nifty Judge features, such as the mega-size rear wing, hood-mounted tachometer, and ram air hood scoop. The latter of which had a panel in the hood that would open up at full throttle to let in all that cool air from outside. The car is owned by the Wade Kawasaki, president of Coker Tires, a company that specializes in reproducing classic tires. Not surprisingly, his GTO features a set of the company's Firestone Wide Oval tires. That particular tire would have come with the car originally, but these new versions are built like modern radial tires, rather than the slippery bias-ply originals. The tires are indicative of how Kawasaki restored the rest of his Judge. Everything has been taken back to factory-spec. It has a stock, 400-cubic inch V8 that makes a supposedly underrated 366 horsepower, and it's complete with the chrome valve covers and foam intake seal. The tires are accompanied by exact replica GTO Judge wheels. The car even has the true, original interior. Somehow, the upholstery, dash, and other interior components survived in excellent condition. Check out the video above for more details on this flashy muscle car, as well as some reminiscing about the "good ol' days," and some history on the origins of the car's name. Related Video:

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.

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.