Every summer, the Underground Syndicate x Scarborough Meets gathering at “The Church” on Markham Road has been one of Toronto’s more anticipated car meets. The formula seemed foolproof: a huge parking lot, sunny weather and the supposed protection of church sanctuary laws for any hooligan tempted to perform donuts in front of the congregation.
Last year, the line of cars waiting to enter stretched north along Markham Road and reportedly backed traffic onto Highway 401 westbound. This year was… different.
These were the same organizers behind last year’s Church meet. They were also involved with the Woodside Square gathering that looked like a small mechanical uprising, complete with tire smoke, screaming two-step exhausts and enough chaos to make mall security reconsider its career choices. The first warning sign was the start time.
Saturday-night meets are supposed to begin when the sun starts disappearing and the underglow begins earning its keep. Instead, this event started at 4:00 p.m., with show cars asked to arrive by 3:00. Everything had to be wrapped up by 8:00 p.m., before darkness could make the parking lot look even remotely underground.
It was less “Saturday night takeover” and more “automotive church picnic.”
The spectators never really arrived, and neither did the attitude. The lot wasn’t empty, but the massive lineups of previous years had evaporated. Gearheads spent hours waiting for the big crowd to materialize, but it never did. This felt like an ordinary parking-lot meet wearing the name tag of something much larger.
At least the cars delivered.
A colourful lineup of Nissan Z-cars caught everyone’s attention, while a green Mazda MX-6 Mystère on gold wheels provided a welcome blast from the past. The field offered a healthy mix of domestics, imports, classics and newer builds, proving that even a disappointing meet can still produce some worthwhile machinery.
One particularly cool moment came when a modern VB-generation Subaru WRX passed a late-1990s GC8 WRX STI, both finished in Arctic White. More than two decades separated them, but the resemblance was unmistakable. It was a rolling snapshot of how Subaru’s performance formula has evolved while stubbornly clinging to its rally-bred roots.
Last year, drivers had to arrive an hour early just to secure a space. This year, plenty of cars were parked before the official start, and some owners were even persuaded to pay $10 for a “VIP” spot, presumably expecting another sellout.
They needn’t have worried.
No matter how late anyone arrived, there was still room. Plenty of it. The VIP section had all the exclusivity of reserved seating at an empty movie theatre.
There was still a rollout, although it was remarkably calm compared with last year’s finale, when one unfortunate driver reportedly burned down his Toyota Supra after bursting a fuel line while redlining it. By that standard, everyone leaving slowly and keeping their cars out of the fire department’s incident log counted as progress.
Ultimately, the visible police presence deserves much of the blame for the subdued turnout and atmosphere. The officers were not aggressive or rude. They walked through the crowd, spoke with young enthusiasts and even climbed onto one attendee’s motorcycle while dressed in full body armour.
Perfectly friendly behaviour, perhaps, but not exactly conducive to creating an underground atmosphere.
It is difficult for parking-lot tough guys to posture, smoke blunts, bounce engines off the rev limiter or generally behave like public nuisances when Big Brother is standing ten feet away taking mental notes. Nobody was being arrested, but everyone knew the babysitter had arrived.
The Church still had cars, but once the cops joined the congregation, the meet lost its religion.