BACK IN MARCH 1984, R&T did a comparison test of “Six 2-Seaters” cited recently here at SimanaitisSays.
This and following images from R&T, March 1984.
Accompanying that comparison test was an article asking “Does the Sports Car Exist?,” in which 11 of the R&T staff shared their (as expected, differing) opinions. Alas, rest their souls, Thos. A. Bryant, Dottie Clendenin, Bill Motta, and Jonathan Thompson are around only in spirit, but here several of the remaining R&T folks offer opinions on this tantalizing question, now seasoned by 40—geez, count them, 40!—years of reflection.
I’ve gleaned tidbits in a space-gobbling Parts 1 and 2 today and tomorrow from the original article and from recent emails. (I forget whether we even had email back in 1984.) The comments are arranged in 1984 masthead order.
John Dinkel, Editor. Dinkel exercised executive privilege by hogging more ink in his “Miscellaneous Ramblings” column up front. “He couldn’t write them short enough for here,” Jon Thompson wrote in assembling the comments.
Briefly (ha! I get even here), JD wrote in 1984, “Besides, after the Engineering Editor read what I had to say about the Morgan he refused to have his comments within five pages of my remarks.”
In more than two magazine columns up front, JD commented, “Is there a place in today’s sports car world for a traditional ragtop of the Alfa Spider and Pininfarina Spider? Absolutely. Do you think I’m holding onto my 1964 Spitfire simply for its investment value?”
By the way, these days JD has a nifty English Ford Lotus Cortina.
Dennis Simanaitis, Engineering Editor. “A sports car,” I wrote, “is one in which I never feel the urge to smoke. It occupies my hands—not to say my feet, eyes, ears and balance mechanism—in an immensely more pleasurable manner.”
I observed, “A sports car needn’t be driven at 8/10s or more to savor its sensory inputs. Puttering along to a used bookstore in the Morgan, for instance, is a more memorable experience to me than probing the limits of a first-rate sports/GT, among which I number the RX-7 and 300ZX.”
DS, 2024. Well, I haven’t smoked since a mid-1984 acute MI. But I still have string-back driving gloves, which are part of my current definition: A sports car can be driven with string-backs without feeling pretentious.
Our 1965 Morgan Plus Four 4-Passenger Family Tourer was perfect, if a tad fiddly as I got older. My 1990 Miata (our R&T long-term car, no. 348) still delights, even at 8/10s through a freeway onramp.
The existential question conflicts with my appreciation of the Kantian Imperative: Would I will universal practice of my action? Uh, no. Living in the transitional world of fossil fuel-induced climate change, I’m content in letting others drive BEVs (which, by the way, are fabled for their 0-60 times—albeit not combined with practical range).
Dorothy Clendenin, Managing Editor. “A sports car,” Dottie said, “should be nimble, small; make me feel special; give a rakish exhilarated feeling; have a personality that agrees with mine.”
Dorothy Clendenin.
Of the cars in the 1984 comparo: “There is someone out there who is going to love each one of these cars beyond reason…. The best reason is that it lights up the heart.”
Wife Dottie died at the age of 80 in 2021.
Thos. L. Bryant, Executive Editor. “You can talk all you want,” Tom said, “about objective test data for acceleration, skidpad and running the slalom—and most of the other cars will return higher numbers—but a sports car also has to have romance, an aura of history that ties it to the classics of old, and the Alfa and the Morgan do that.”
Tom died at age 76 in 2020.
Joe Rusz, Motor Sports Editor. Joe begin, “I’m getting a bit weary of the string-back-glove set defining a sports car. Where is it written that such cars must be a) open; b) crude, c) British?”
“A sports car,” Joe defined, “is any good handling, spirited, low-volume automobile whose raison d’etre is driving enjoyment.”
I’ve alway enjoyed Joe’s rants as well as his lucid moments. He still has his Porsche 911.
Peter Egan, Senior Editor. “I lean toward the spartan side of sports car design,” Peter wrote, “preferring cars that feel like thinly disguised racing machines to those that feel like thickly disguised family sedans.”
“Absolute performance and speed,” Peter said, “are not as important to me as the sensation of speed.”
PE, 2024. Bless his heart, Peter was the first to respond: “Though I quit smoking some years ago, I share the sentiment and have always felt that a true sports car should be its own form of entertainment, with no distractions necessary. It’s the same reason I never take a good book along to read at a Rolling Stones concert, or install a sound system on my motorcycle.”
Peter continues, “I have a long history of owning hair-shirt, rather elemental sports cars whose styling I admire, but as I get older—and our summers here in the Midwest get hotter—I’m becoming less convinced that physical suffering has to be part of the sports car experience. So two of my favorite cars from the past 40 years have been a first-generation Porsche Boxster-S and a 1991 BRG Special Edition Miata (with Konis and shock tower braces). Both are totally engaging to drive, can be enjoyed on a winding road or track day, have leak-free convertible tops and yet possess this miraculous thing called air conditioning. Also, the radio doesn’t work on my Miata, and I’ve never once been tempted to fix it.”
Ha: I replaced my Miata’s stolen radio, confess to listening to the classical station, but never learned what all its other buttons are for.
We’ll continue this tomorrow in Part 2. Perhaps you’d like to share wisdom as well. ds
© Dennis Simanaitis, SimanaitisSays.com, 2024