Ah, the Eurosport, Chevrolet's well-executed package for classing up the '80s A-Body front-drivers. Catch a Eurosport in your peripheral vision quickly, and it'd be easy to mistake it for a Volvo 7-series, or even an Audi 5000 (G). What we have here is a time capsule in two ways. First, the Celebrity was GM's redemption from the X-Body's failure to deliver on its potential. The Celebrity is the vehicle where the General got its act together, fully years before the Taurus, too. Secondly, this particular Celebrity was swept up in the Pro Street craze that customizers glommed on to in the days when a guy could pull off a hot pink tank top. It's a period piece, built when the Simpsons were still on Tracey Ullman.
The excesses of the 1980s are perfectly embodied in the decadent Pro Street movement; the same ethos drove the popularity of hair metal. There was an edge to it, an underlying basis in the blues. Pro Street's blues were the grit and rocket fuel fumes of serious drag racing. Many cars we'd kill for today (unrusted late '60s MoPars, anyone?) suffered the fate of being cut up and tubbed, then fitted with teeny tiny front tires on horridly ubiquitous Centerline phone-dial rims. The end result is a car that handles as well as a T. Rex does preacher curls with its wimpy little arms. Handling's not the point, insane craftsmanship and over the top everything are. This car, definitely has that with its pro build worthy of magazine coverage, triple-blown big block, tube frame, massive Mickey Thompsons, and the requesite drag chute and smart aleck license plate. Rather than cry over another increasingly rare car being hacked up by a cokehead fabricator, nobody will care that a Celebrity went under the knife. In fact, they'll stop dead in their tracks and say "cool." Get your bids in now, or just end everyone's suspense and fork over the 50G's for the thing. You'll be a hit at the local choke and puke cruise night. Thanks for the tip, SleighBoy!
Related GalleryPro Street Chevy Celebrity