There’s a sound that defines Detroit.
The growl of an engine. The bounce of a basketball. The heartbeat of a city built on horsepower and hard work.
Rick Mahorn knows that sound — he’s lived it.
A Bad Boy on the court. A Detroiter by choice. A man who still feels that Motor City pulse every time he turns a key.
Call me Detroit muscle. We’re not going to break down. As much stuff as you throw at Detroit, it always rises above the ashes and says, okay, we’re still here.
“Yeah, you know what? Of course we’re in Detroit. I got to be a car guy. I love seeing different vehicles, but I love seeing the vintage ones. Every time they have the Woodward Dream Cruise, I hear that noise and I just turn around like, oh my gosh, I’m in love.”
For Mahorn, cars have always mirrored his personality — strong, grounded, built for impact.
“When I saw the Hummer, I said, oh man, that’s a bad boy. It embraced what I represent on the court. People go, ‘He’s rough and tough, he’s mean.’ That’s what this Hummer makes me feel — the meanness of driving around like, okay, move, because this big old Hummer is coming behind you.”
That “bad boy” edge runs deep — from the way he played to the way he lives. Mahorn grew up around the rumble of Detroit muscle, when the sound of an engine was part of everyday life.
“We used to sit out where we used to play ball with the milk crate, and then you’d hear the cars from up the street — vrooom! You’d hear it coming and we’d run off the street, then get back on and finish our game.”
To him, that sound was Detroit — power, pride, and presence.
“Call me Detroit muscle. We’re not going to break down. As much stuff as you throw at Detroit, it always rises above the ashes and says, okay, we’re still here.”
That same spirit — the drive that refuses to stop — is what connects the Pistons, the city, and the Auto Show.
“I’ve been to the Auto Show. What I love about going is you get to see the new models coming in, but you also get to see the old ones and I love it because it keeps the city connected.”
For Mahorn, Detroit will always be more than a place. It’s a pulse. A sound. A force that never stalls out.