Irrational gun purchases are some of the best gun purchases you can make. I like to call them deliberate accidents. I've always drooled over Wilson Combat 1911s, but they’ve been "one day" guns for me. So why, when I am finally in a position to buy my coveted Wilson Combat, would I waste it on a Jay-Z (Wilson Combat)/Linkin Park (Beretta) collision course: the 92G Brigadier Tactical?
Since purchasing the 92G, I wrestled with this question for a while and all I could seem to come up with was, "Because." OK, maybe it’s a little more detailed than that. Before I got into guns, my only knowledge of them came from what I saw on TV and movies. As prevalent as Glocks were during my most influential years, it was the 1911 and Beretta 92 that had the most lasting impression on me. The image of John McClane clutching his Beretta 92F is literally seared into my brain.
Like an addict looking for his next fix, I would go from gun store to gun store, looking at guns, touching guns, talking about guns, and many times buying guns. But never the Beretta 92. Without fail, every gun store had at least one for sale. I’d scan the row of guns laid out, passing over the ones that were of no interest to me—the Beretta 92 included. I was part of the Glock fanboy plastic fantastic generation, where you didn’t buy all metal guns. All metal guns were for the old heads that couldn’t let go of their antiquated relics of the past. The Internet conditioned me to want the space-age polymer guns. Even if it wasn’t a Glock, if it didn’t have polymer you were doing life wrong.
Then I came across the Wilson Combat/Beretta 92G Brigadier Tactical, and I had to have it. There was always something about the Beretta 92 that called out to me, but I never felt like I needed it. In my eyes there was nothing it could do that my Glock 19 couldn't. Oddly enough, that’s still technically true of the 92G I’m holding, yet I knew I had to have it before I had even shot it.
It wasn’t until I had the gun in my possession that I realized why I had purchased it. At the time I just wanted it and couldn’t explain why. I think the gun is beautifully intricate, bordering on excessive complexity. The design oozes Italian flamboyance and charisma, as if it came standard with every top-end Alfa Romeo. I also can’t overlook the overwhelming sense of nostalgia I get by simply looking at a Beretta 92. At the sight of one, my mind flickers through every random movie it has been featured in.
But this one just felt different: Tighter, smoother, slightly more refined. If the Beretta 92 is the Gran Turismo, the Wilson Combat version is the Gran Turismo MC Centennial Edition. In the aggregate, all of these things created a ball of desire in the pit of my stomach that caused me to yearn for this gun more than I ever had for any Glock.
As I type this, the 92G sits lifelessly on my desk, perfectly content with me admiring it simply for the sake of existing. Some people would call that the definition of art; I just call it, “Because.” Besides, there’s something about not legitimizing this purchase with logical reasons that makes it that much more special.
