Toy Tuesday: Spider-Man Ricochet Racer
I’m in a rush to do stuff, stuff that is much too boring to talk about here.
But I feared your Tuesday would feel dark and meaningless without a weekly dose of lead-laden, flashbackin’ toy goodness.
(This thing is not about me, friends — it’s about you. I swear it. I do it for you.)
Today: Spider-Man Ricochet Racer
Soon I will be off on an annual cross-country trek to visit my dear ol’ brother, Tony.
We’re much better at pretending we like each other today.
You may already know Tony from his various cameo appearances here on Childhood Relived.
Over the past two years that he’s been featured on this blog, perhaps his best known roles have been . . .
“Kid with a Poopy Diaper and a Droopy Conscience,”
“Kid Who Wrapped Up a Live Spider for His Sister’s Birthday,”
and “Kid Who Made His Sister’s Face Look Like This for Most of the ’80s.”
Notably, he’s also known by someone somewhere as “Sweet Ninja.” Which you may have read about here in my exclusive, dramatically revealing interview with Tony last fall, which blew the doors clean off this blog.
Today, in honor of the big guy, I’m spotlighting a very special chunk of plastic.
Sadly, it’s probably nothing you’d ever remember, but it’s definitely been certified as one of Tony’s favoritest mildly dangerous toys.
I had to dig deep, deeeeeeep, into my heap of useless memories to find a picture of this thing. Tragically, the internets told me the world had forgotten it.
Searching “Spider-Man gun,” “Spider-Man toy that shot matchbox cars, Legos and Cheetos,” and “things that hit me in the head once” proved fruitless.
Finally, I stumbled upon it, almost by accident, in fact due to an accident, when I searched “signs of a past, undiagnosed concussion.”
Although, I’m still not 100% satisfied with the results. While the shooter thingy is dead-on accurate, I’m thinking the Spidey shuttle pods were different? Maybe more pointy? Like a compass spike?
I’m fairly positive the Spideys were lost within days of their initial launch. And were never heard from again.
I’m fairly certain my brother found comparable items to stuff in and shoot at me.
I’m fairly relieved that our darts wouldn’t fit.
Spider-Man Ricochet Racer, wherever you are, I raise my glass of Tang to you.
Childhood Relived 
Sucker had a powerful spring inside. See the red piece under the base of the gun barrel? It was supposed to fold under and sit flat and supposedly wouldn’t fire unless you shot it from the ground. So I would smiply fold it under and hold it that way – then sneak up and shoot you in the back. I lost one of the cars so I bought a new one that was non-superhero but more pointy. Ah.. good times!
I like the words “gun barrel” used to describe it. There seems to be a misconception that with the name of “Ricochet Racer” we wouldn’t realize this is a gun, an exact replica of the fierce military-style weapons used in warfare….um, by Spider-Man?
Cross country, you say? Where does your brother live again, Nnng?
Wrapping a live spider is inspired.
(Is it wrong that I’m commenting on everything but the toy? It’s making me feel droopy in my
diaperconscience.)The toy is not worth commenting on or being hit in the head with for that matter.
Dear Ms. Post, is it in poor taste to regift a spider-in-a-box? I’m more of a grasshopper basket kind of gal.
Every time I see your “after 1979 preschool” photo, I die laughing. DIE. Which sounds like what would have happened to me if my brothers had a Spider-Man Ricochet Racer.
I was just laughing at the preK photos too!
(ahem) laughing in a totally nonjudgmental, with-you-not-at-you way, Angie)
Haha! Yes, WITH you, not at you. Bless your little heart.
I can’t help but think that photo once appeared on America’s Most Wanted.
This thing is a mess. I don’t know what everyone was doing in the 80s.
Hit ourselves in the heads with Ricochet Racers, mostly. Beyond that, I’m not sure.
I note the look on Tony’s face when he was (obviously) forced to kiss you as a baby. That look speaks volumes. I am glad you survived to tell the tale of the Spiderman Ricochet Racer assault. Putting a poopy diaper pic out there for the world to see is a top-notch revenge strategy!
Hey, I’m not so thrilled about it either, Lynnette. He looks like some friend of his just dared him to do it, like he’s about to eat fried worms or something.
So many more kids make it all the way to adulthood with both eyes these days.
We really only need one. Two eyes shows you haven’t lived.
Have you dropped off of my reader, or just taken off writing lately? I feel like I haven’t seen your posts since I was playing Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robots.
Ha! Well played. Yes, I’ve fallen off the face of the earth, somewhat intentionally. But I have a grand ol’ Toy Tuesday guest post coming your way tomorrow so stay tuned.
Yippee!
And if you ever want to offer a Toy Tuesday guest post, I would love to have it.
Guest posts are when I get to really kick back.
I’ll give it some thought. Most of my childhood toys were rocks and sticks, though.
Between this and yard darts, honestly, it’s a wonder any of us actually survived the 70s and 80s.
Scientists believe the chemical composition of Pop Rocks actually allowed us to regrow limbs. Fascinating, really.
THAT’S why they didn’t want us to mix Pop Rocks with soda! They didn’t want us to know the secret of limb regeneration. Those bastards! All those urban legends prevented us from knowing the truth.
The truth is out there.
Reblogged this on tyanarena.
Thank you!
Your brother should have been much nicer to you than he was when you were kids. Because you are getting the sweetest revenge possible. The droopy diaper photo alone equals 2 years of abuse.
On behalf of little sisters everywhere, Angie, I salute you.
If only I could’ve saved up all my pennies as a kid, I would’ve taken out a billboard of the photo.
How do I not know this toy? My brother was born in 1970. Does it mean we were too old for it? Either way, this is fabulous. I love how toy makers let us play with shit that would poke our eyes out. Alas, the good ole days. ;)
My brother was born in 1970. And I’m sure he was too old for it.
Of all the toys my brothers used to shoot razor sharp pointy objects directly at my head, I don’t seem to recall this one.
But THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart for slapping up your bro in the droopy dipes yet again. Brava! (it’s brava, right? not bravo? because you’re a woman?)
We haven’t seen the last of Droopy Diaper, I can assure you.
My brothers were all younger than I, so they pretty much had to practice their dart-throwing, doll-mutilating, annoying brotherness on the littler kids. A fact for which I am eternally grateful.
Droopy Dipey sounds like a better super hero than Spider Man.
Droopy Dipey could very well be a superhero, a political candidate, a pro wrestler, a breakfast cereal — either one, I wouldn’t mess with him.
They need to start selling Lego/Cheetoh launchers again – I’d buy ’em!
You’re on to something, Audrey!
Was your brother the inspiration for the Captain Underpants series? Sweet!
I had sisters- and some boy cousins. We were country folk so our guns and our toys were live. I’m still mad at one for hiding in a tree and shooting at me with a BB gun after he hid his pet boa constrictor in my room.
Emily, that is EXACTLY what came to mind seeing Tony in my mind as a super-hero!
Bet he’s wishing now he cornered THAT market. Just think of all the millions he’d have made, enough to pay all his sister’s blogging fees, perhaps even hire a personal assistant. Such a missed opportunity. “Captain Droopy-Drawers!!”
I’m not authorized to talk about the Captain Underpants series due to pending litigation.
Emily, you were not country folk! Get out! At least, not the kind of country folk who shoot at their siblings with BB guns! You must be my people.
…“signs of a past, undiagnosed concussion” would be the phrase to search for for ANY toy in the 80’s. Funny! Or maybe, not funny. But definitely spot on.
My big brothers toys and “games” could be placed into one of three categories: 1) how far she could be launched using muscle energy only, 2) much squeeze pressure a head could endure before she started screaming for mom, or 3) how big of a welt a Cheeto or Lego or Matchbox could wield when a direct hit to the forehead was accomplished.
Love your Tony posts. I went back and read the other one. It’s still the best!! Still made me laugh a hundred times over. Thanks for that. I needed it.
Aw, thanks, Shannon. You’re pretty swell.
#2 — Uncle, uncle! Make it stop! My head is throbbing just thinking of that one!
as a kid, I found that the combination of three long lego blocks (two thin over and under a 3″ std block) would fit in nicely- and while holding the ramp safety up with the supporting hand made for a great monster hunting gun.
That is fantastic!