I survived one season in the Toyota Gazoo Racing Vios Sporting Class

Three rounds, one hell of a ride

There’s a moment in every racer’s journey where the training wheels are put away because it’s time to wear big-boy pants.

For me, that moment came when I graduated from the Novice Class and straight into the 2025 Toyota Gazoo Racing Philippine Cup’s Sporting Class.

Last year, I had one hell of a season driving the CVT Vios and racing against seven other competitors, including the TMP President himself. I scored multiple wins, got a couple of podiums, and finished runner-up in the championship. But of course, the reset button hits, and the counter goes back to zero every time there’s a new season ahead. It’s more than just that this year, though. 

This time, myself and Russel Reyes stepped up to the Sporting Class, which is a completely different beast. We represented Team Toyota Gazoo Racing Philippines along with Kody Ng, Gabby So Hu, and Julian Colvin Tang in the Legacy Class.

It’s more than just transitioning from racing with a Vios with two pedals to three, or the GR liveries changing from black to white. The Sporting Class is a large battlefield. From 7 competitors, I was now up against 17.

Likewise, the quality of competition in the Sporting Class also goes way up. Unlike the grid I competed with last year, this doesn’t consist of some rookies still feeling out their braking points; the drivers I was going up with are all battle-tested. They can smell hesitation from a corner away, and with no intentions of giving an inch. These are the racers I only used to watch from the paddock. They would go for the smallest gaps the moment you make a mistake. Figuratively, I went from being the hunter to the hunted. If I wanted to belong here, I’d have to prove I could match the elbows-out aggression to survive.

The Rookie Baptism

And so there I was with car #6, sitting on the grid for my first race weekend in the Sporting Class. I had a new car, a new team, and a new coach. To add to that, we only had a short time to prepare and dial in the setup to my liking. Quite simply, I was like a rookie trying to gel in my new environment, despite years of experience doing track days and endurance races with a private team.

Hence, the goal in the first race weekend was just to survive. Reality set in when I had already driven my best lines in Clark, but my name was nowhere to be found at the top of the standings, unlike last season. To make matters worse, my car developed engine issues in the middle of the race weekend, which hampered its acceleration and top speed.

I went through all three races with that issue. And no matter how hard I tried to corner as fast as I could and defend my position, the long main straight of Clark International Speedway made me a sitting duck as the top competitors quickly got past. Fortunately, I was able to finish all three races, but I languished in the midfield and had no podium appearances – a stark contrast to my teammate Russel, who quickly got settled in and won two straight sprint races.  With those factors, I wasn’t able to show what I had. I didn’t get to fight back, but I got a reminder that I have to really dig deep in this class that takes no prisoners.

Heartbreak

Round 2 was different, and it’s unforgettable. The stage was Villar City, where a street circuit was made, and a layout that felt like threading a needle at 140 km/h.

My car was completely rebuilt for this round, along with the engine. However, based on TGR PH Cup rules, an engine change meant I had to start at the back of the 17-car grid for race 3. Another tall task ahead, especially in a street track where overtaking is very difficult.

Somehow, I clawed my way to 9th after race 3, which meant I was back in the midfield for race 4. I was matching the pace of the front runners, so there was something to be optimistic about for the next 2 races. The green light turned on for race 4, and it was finally time to play chess on concrete walls. I came in hungry and determined to climb further up the field. For most of that race, it felt like I finally broke through. I fought through traffic and kept it clean where others cracked. By the end of the race, I was finally in third place.

I crossed the line thinking redemption was mine. But then came the gut punch: disqualification after the flag due to a technical infringement, and it was all caused by a left front suspension camber that went 0.5 degrees too negative after a minor crash during warmup. That camber difference won’t really give my car a big advantage over the rest of the field, but rules are rules. So in the end, no points, still no podium. Just another hard lesson in a season that’s starting to get more frustrating than satisfying.

The Breakthrough

As we returned to Clark International Speedway for the final race weekend, my mindset was torn. I was already out of the running for the overall championship, and I could simply go through the motions and finish the season without pushing for a win. But on the other hand, the racer in me simply won’t let my last two race weekends define me. When I finally arrived at the paddock, I saw that the team was driven to finish strong. Well, now I shouldn't let them down.

We didn’t have quite the smoothest sessions in the practices, as we continually had to sort out the fueling issues of the #6 car. But when it was running well, boy, it was fast. With the setup finally dialed in by my coach and my mechanics to suit my driving style, I clocked in personal bests after personal bests. The 2:27s became 2:25s. And before qualifying, I even did a 2:24 – a lap that’s close to Super Sporting class territory. With those results, we knew we were finally on to something.

We ended up 6th on the grid for qualifying, just 0.7 seconds off the pole time. Russel qualified third, and team orders were in place to give him the best shot at winning the title. That meant I had to stay on his back for most of race 6, but eventually we swapped positions at the last lap so I could finish 3rd and he could finish 4th and remove his success ballast. A podium was handed to me on a plate, but I felt like there was more to come.

Sweet, sweet victory

Then came Saturday, the final day of the 2025 TGR Philippine Cup. This was my last chance to turn all those elbows-out lessons into something that mattered. No more almosts, no more what-ifs. It’s showtime. Win or nothing.

The nerves were still there on the grid, but they’ve changed. No more wide-eyed panic, no more second-guessing when to drop the clutch. I knew this car now. The manual transmission Vios was no longer my challenge. It was my weapon - a weapon that the team and I spent the entire season sharpening.

When the lights went out, I had a decent launch from 14th due to the reverse grid. As we approached the first corner, I was no longer fighting to keep my spot. I was hunting for gaps, threading through the chaos I used to fear. The first corner wasn’t survival this time. It was an opening move.

The car felt alive beneath me. Every time I asked for more grip, more rotation, the Vios danced through my fingers and gladly obliged. With this level of confidence, I was finally able to send it where I wouldn’t have dared months ago. I did late braking moves that would’ve scared the rookie me senseless. By the time the first lap ended, I was already up to 7th.

After a brief safety car session, I nailed the restart and picked up where I left off - gluing the nose of my Vios to the next competitor in front. The same names I used to tiptoe around and avoid contact were now my targets. Of course, some didn’t take it gently when I was able to make a move stick. I was on the receiving end of a few heavy hits and a few shoves, but it no longer rattled me, and I kept pushing forward. A few more laps of intense battles happened, and I finally found myself leading the pack.

It’s one thing to get to the front, but another to actually stay there until the checkered flag. Every corner was a risk, and the laps felt endless. But eventually the moment came. I exited the last corner with the checkered flag already waving, and a huge weight was taken off my shoulders. I was finally no longer just another driver in the pack. I was now a race winner.

As I made my way to parc ferme and celebrated victory, I reflected on the struggles that we had and the sacrifices that the team made to finally reach the top step of the podium. It was a collective effort of a team that refused to give up when the setbacks knocked them down. And God that felt so good. For the cherry on top, we even followed that victory with another second-place finish in the endurance to claim a podium trifecta in the final race weekend.

Three race weekends. One season. From a baptism of fire and broken engines, to heartbreak on a street circuit, to this. My first Sporting Class win and a podium sweep. If this season taught me anything, it’s that nothing tastes sweeter than a victory you had to bleed for.

Oh, and the big boy pants? Yes. They finally fit.