Thoughts On The Alfa Romeo 8C Competizione.

It seems like everyone, from Winding Road, to Evo, to my boss is absolutely gaga over Alfa's new super car and I can't say that I blame them. It's a beautiful car, and exclusive as well with only 500 units scheduled for production, expensive too at around $250,000. I don't really want to like this car as I don't think of it as a real Alfa Romeo, but as a Ferrari/Maserati hybrid with a serpent badge stuck on the front. That may not be an entirely fair description of the car as I'm sure that Alfa's engineers have done a lot of work to make their new version of the Ferrari/Maserati V8 work in the way they desire, and the Maserati Gran Turismo chassis has undergone significant revision aside from a fair bit of shortening up. Still, the fact that those items are on the car at all kind of irks me because, you see, I remember when Alfa were perfectly capable of making their own super cars from scratch.

It wasn't really all that long ago, maybe fifteen years, maybe a little more, shortly after the takeover by Fiat, that Alfa produced its last truly desirable car. It was called the SZ, for Sport Zagato and it was indeed Zagato who built the body, though it was designed Robert Opron at Fiat Design. It was a different sort of super car, on that harked to lightweight specials of the past not in style, but in substance. It was also a real Alfa, with it's power-train and underpinnings taken directly from the company's touring car version of the 75.



The styling would prove to be the car's calling card, and one of the limiting factors in its appeal. Very much in the angular mode of the time, it was however a stretch even for the customer of the late eighties raised on Mk I MR-2s and Lamborghini Countach posters. Its strange mix of straight lines and curves combined with slightly odd proportions to be punctuated by a distinctive, but challenging fascia. It wasn't pretty, but you could look at it for days without getting bored. Inside was a well trimmed, albeit spartan cabin, with a carbon-fiber fascia that was still novel at the time. the whole car was set off by a carbon spoiler at the back, and perhaps the most beautiful rendition of Alfa's traditional "phone-dial" alloys ever made.

The chassis was based on the floor pan of the 75 sedan, but suspension geometries were changed and the racer's coil springs replaced the torsion bars that dated back to the Alfetta. The suspension update, when combined with low-profile Pirelli P-Zero tires and the effects of aerodynamic downforce produced cornering power in excess of 1.4g, an impressive feat even today.

That cornering power did its best to compensate for the cars other weakness, its engine. There was nothing wrong with the 3.0liter V6, but in SOHC form it produced only 210bhp, a figure which was hardly going to set the world alight. What was often overlooked was that the car weighed in a 2769lbs (725lbs less than the 8C) which, while hardly making the car a lightweight, allowed it to scoot from 0-62 (with two people aboard) in about 7 seconds. Never intended to be a road burner the SZ was thus overlooked by many seeking more immediate thrills.

Alfa weren't looking to sell that many SZs though, only 1000 were scheduled to be produced, though a few more made it out the door before they were through. About 260 of the drop top RZ version were completed, out of a planned run of 350.

The 8C will be arriving in the U.S in a few weeks. They're already sold out, as they deserve to be. It is a beautiful car, with styling that cherry-picks its cues from the best of Alfa tradition, TZ-2, Stradale, and the original 6c Competizione coupe of the 50s. It will be fast, powerful and the cabin will delight owners with its dash machined from a billet of aluminum. I hear that Alfa's engineering staff have even sussed the automated transmission to the point that shifts are smooth and well timed.

But I can't help thinking that it won't be a real Alfa, no matter how I try to convince myself. It's been too long since Alfa gave up on making real driver's cars; they no longer possess the know how to develop from their own product line a car worthy of their own heritage and need the assistance of Ferrari and Maserati instead. So I'm still not sure what to make of the 8c. On one had it is a wonderful thing in and of itself, but on the other, it represents the decline of one of my favorite names in all of auto-dom. I can't wait to have the thrill of seeing and hearing one pass me on the road, but I know that when it does, I shall also feel just a little bit sad...

Running Report, Vol II.

Well, the tires have been taken care of, at least at the front. The bill came to $344 including a four-wheel alignment which seems reasonable for two Dunlop Direzza DZ 101 sized 215/45/17. It does hurt a little bit as I was hoping to swap the fronts to the back and change all four in a couple months for a set of Pirelli P-Zeros. It may turn out to be a good thing though because having tread on all the tires whilst simultaneously having them point in the correct direction has shown how far gone the dampers are and this, combined with the soft clutch and need for a timing belt would have turned the more serious rubber into money quite literally thrown in the street.

Next month hopefully I'll be able to play a little catchup with some of these jobs and then decide what to do with the car. I like it a lot, and it has more than a little sentimental value as well, but it may be time for something a little easier to care for, or more fun.

Right now though, it could use a good bath...

A Gearhead's Thoughts On The New Ferrari...

I really didn't anticipate the release of Ferrari's new California creating such a firestorm, but then, this isn't the car anyone was expecting. Rumors of a new Dino have been swirling for two years now, and the mules have been lapping the Nurburgring for months. It was supposed to be a small GT, a car to slot in below the 430, and revive thoughts of the beloved Dino 206/246. the car with which we find ourselves confronted is no such animal. It's not a GT, it's a convertible, not even a roadster really, but a 2+2. When I saw the body shape I was convinced that the car was nothing more than a re-bodied Alfa Romeo 8C Competezione, and that it would be using the same engine as well. It turns out to be a different story there as well. In several ways, both good and bad, this is a Ferrari like none we've ever seen.

The good is relatively good. Despite some in the press stating that the car is as big a departure for Ferrari as the Cayenne was for Porsche, it's still a sports car, and still has many of the traditional Ferrari hallmarks. It seems to have a good start in the engine bay as well, with 4.3 liters of flat-cranked V8, featuring a direct injection system for increased power and economy. the engine doesn't rev as high as its 430 stablemate (7500rpm plays 8500) but it does look ready to out torque the mid-engine car throughout the rev range. It's also nice to see that Ferrari resisted the temptation to fit the already torquier, and related 4.7liter V8 from the 8C/Maserati Gran Turismo S. The structure too is different from the Alfa's, despite the similarity of market for the cars, and is in fact another of Ferrari's aluminum structures and of course features the folding hard-top. Finally the transmission isn't a revised F1/Cambiocorsa, but an all new twin-clutch 7-speed unit mounted in the trans-axle position at the rear of the car. So all in all, a unique car which should help justify it to brand purists like myself.

The not so good as it happens, takes in a few of the same points, the first one being that new transmission. While I'm sure that the adoption of the twin-clutch system will broaden the market for Ferrari's newest baby, it is the only transmission option being offered at launch and Ferrari aren't making any noises about including a proper manual. I know I'm risking being dubbed a Luddite, but I for one prefer to do my own shifting. It's not that I'm terribly good at it, just the opposite in fact, but when it all comes together and I get a blipped down-shift right while entering a corner, I feel the sense of accomplishment. Simply tugging a paddle, no matter how clever the electronics to which it's hooked, will never have the same appeal. That Ferrari have had to engineer in a bit of brutality to the transmision smacks of gimackery and makes the point that in some ways this technology has gone too far for driving enjoyment.

That folding hard-top is another concern. For one it's heavy, there's really no way of getting around that, and for another the room required to store it makes the back of the car a little bloated and droopy. It ends up looking high-sided with the top down too, which begs the question, "Why not just make a coupe and a soft-top?" It's not as if these two options have suddenly been rendered obsolete by the advent of the converta-coupe, and this Ferrari is further proof. On the plus side the car does at least look pleasingly sleek with the top up, but that's just one more reason that it doesn't need to go down.

Also, let me be clear on one thing. This car is in now way a California. the legendary 250 California Spiders of the late 50s and early 60s were cut-down versions of Ferrari's top flight competition coupes. they had V12s that were a liter smaller than the V8 in this modern car, and where lightweight specials created in order to give weekend racers a competitive car for U.S. west coast events that they could drive to and from the track. The new California seems more to be a car meant for first time Ferrari owners who want a sporty car they can use every day.

In the end, that's what does it for this car as far as I'm concerned. In being neither a cut down 559, nor a new Dino (and in no way reminiscent of the its namesake) it fails to be anything of than a toy for the not so rich and a diluter of brand values. I'm sure Ferrari's engineers have worked very hard and made sure than on many dynamic levels the new California can hold its head up. I'm sure too that it will do its job and introduce Ferrari to new buyers and new markets, aiding in Fiat's quest to up production at its top brand to 10,000 units a year. But I'm equally sure that it won't introduce those buyers to what a Ferrari has traditionally been, and that it will bring down the level of exclusivity and inherent coolness, that has traditionally been a part of the Ferrari mystique, and which has already been threatened by over-merchandising. The California may end up being a good car, but that's not what being a Ferrari is all about.

One You Can't Buy Here, II...

So, you want a sporty, car? How about a turbo, you like those? Of course, lightweight is a great thing, and nimble handling is on the agenda, as well as a great soundtrack. Let's get a little exotic, how about a mid-ship engine placement, and fancy doors? Really cool, make the car tiny so that you can place it on the road with more ease and certainty than anything this side of a motorcycle, and make it a coupe, with a real interior so that all this good stuff can be used to get through traffic in the morning as well as scrapping around mountain roads, all the while getting great fuel mileage...

Too bad, Mazda never brought the Autozam AZ-1 to these shores. It's a real shame too, as along with the slightly more common Honda Beat and Suzuki's Cappuccino the AZ-1 was one of only a few sports cars built to Japan's Kei rules. That fact alone is kind of weird because along with making a great city car, the Kei regulations read like a formula for a tiny sportster in the mold of Abarth-Fiats, and Ginnetta's G15. 660cc is the limit for engines and 63bhp, maximum length is 3.4 meters, width under 1.5. These are tiny cars, and the Mazda is actually smaller than most as it easily comes in under the 2m height limit (the AZ-1's highest point actually sits a fairly minuscule 1150mm from the ground).

Of the three Kei-Sports mentioned the Mazda is by far the most interesting, its mid-engine design, combined with its three-cylinder motor (shared with the Cappuccino) make for an exciting, if noisy drive. The gull-wing doors add a sense of occasion, and can be removed with relative ease to make for a surprisingly open car. In almost all ways the AZ-1 behaves like a miniature exotic, and that includes lack of space, and a general lack of refinement. I can't imagine it's terribly safe, especially if contacted by the average Canyonero-esque soccer-mom convenience, and you'll have to use your pockets for things like phones and pens because the Mazda doesn't have any. The payback is immediate steering and handling, decent acceleration (for a 660cc car) and terrific mileage. The best part is how well the AZ-1 (and by extension the Cappuccino) responds to tuning, with more than one tuner extracting 120bhp from the little three. Mazda themselves produced a few special editions, and several show-cars, including a radical, group-C inspired pseudo-racer.

The AZ-1 also shares an interesting feature with that most famous of small sports cars, the Austin Healy Mk-I sprite. Both cars were originally intended to have pop-up style hidden headlamps, but on both projects the system was discarded on grounds of weight and cost, so both share a somewhat similar wide-eyed expression at the front.

The cars seem to be constantly up for auction online in Japan, and some have made their way to Europe as gray-market cars, but I've only heard of a couple in the U.S., and I have no idea what their owners have done to convince the authorities that the cars should be allowed in the country. It's a shame too as this is just another example of EPA regulations having the inverse of their supposedly intended effect. Having more cars like this on U.S. soil could only be a good thing, and encouraging this level of fuel-economy by giving drivers the ability to have fun at the same time would seem worth bending a few rules. Alas, fun seems never to be a bureaucrat's favored word. More's the pity...

Running Report, Vol I.

It's been hot all day, and I was really looking forward to heading south tonight to visit with some friends. There's been a slow leak in one of the front tires on my Focus SVT recently, and I've been putting off doing much about it because work has been taking up all my time. Well, that situation has come to a bit of a head tonight. I'm not sure whether the leak is being caused by the slight amount of cord showing on the inside, or by the rather large nail sticking out of the tire, but between them they have conspired to cancel my trip south.

I knew the front tires were going to need attention soon, but I was hoping that they would last through the next couple weeks because by then some other financial matters would be cleared up and I could go ahead and give the car the attention it deserved. In retrospect, I should have taken a morning off work and had the front aligned because without the cord showing I could probably still have gotten away with a plug for the next few thousand miles...

If all of this sounds beneath an SVT owner, all I can tell you is that I agree. It's just been a rough couple months, and I haven't had time to do more than oil changes and washing. So at this point the Focus is up for a timing belt, water pump (it isn't bad, but it's good to do it while you're changing the belt), dampers, and tires & alignment. It's not a small list, and I'm not sure how much I'm willing to commit to the job at this point. I love the car, but it's taking up a fair amount of finances that could go to other projects, and as it stands it's more of an expensive commuter car than the canyon-carver I bought three years ago. Still, a lot of that list would need doing before I could really sell the car anyway, and by the time it's done, I'll probably end up wanting to keep it. Stay tuned.

Hey, Remember The 70s?

Remember when gas spiked in price and small cars became all the rage? Remember that they were still rear wheel drive for the most part? Yeah, me either, but it must have been a great time. And yet all I can find from the period are people complaining that the good days were over. No longer could they afford to sell, 500ci high-compression motors in gigantic muscular bodies that rolled, and generally handled like a Jersey with bad knees.

What were they thinking? Who in their right minds complains when there are cars like the Fiat 124 coupe and the Datsun 510/610 available? Who gripes about Mazda RX3s, Opel Mantas, Toyota Celicas, and Corollas, or Ford Capris? Sure, the Mustang and its ilk had gone the way of other dinosaurs, not to return until the mid eighties. Sure, emission controls were making their presence felt like never before. But the small car was king, and it went around corners in a way that the hot cars of the 60s could only dream of.

It's funny, today these malaise era cars are the only things left on the market cheap enough to buy for beer money, but interesting enough to be worth not buying beer. Thirty years on, in another gas crisis these cars make more sense than ever, and have in many cases, built legends to match the muscle cars they replaced. Will we soon see the days of 510s, Mantas, and Rx3s going for incredible money at auctions? Will old Mulholland racers and SCCA sedans be brought out of garages and over restored to be pushed across the block for millions?

The small cars of today go stop and turn better than any 510 ever has. They go faster, are quieter, and in most cases use less gas. They're safer, and less polluting, in short, they're far better cars. But in the same way that the new Mustang will never be the '68 Fastback GT 390, the Altima will never be the 510. It's too heavy, for one, and it's too big as well. Cars always evolve toward an ideal of least intrusion into the life of the average consumer, and viewed in that light the Altima is a good car.

But a classic isn't a car of least resistance; by it's nature, it's a car that gets in your face, so you'll remember it. The 510 is tiny, noisy and involving. The RX3 is pretty, and distinctively powered. By the standards of today, they're underpowered, cramped and under-optioned. They are however fun to drive, as fast as anyone needs to go, and imbued with a personality that modern cars cover over with tons of squish-feel dash plastics, and sat-nav screens. I miss cars like these, and if we're going to have a new fuel crisis, I think we at least owe it to ourselves to build more of them.

One You Can't Buy Here, I...

The Renault-Sport Clio is a neat little car in all its incarnations, from the 172, to the current 197. If you include the legendary Clio Williams in the group than the little Renault has an enviable reputation as one of the hottest of hatches that dates back fifteen years. In that time, power has never fallen below 150bhp, and has never been above 200bhp, always from right around 2.0liters of displacement. Weight started at 2227lbs for the series I Williams, and now stands at 2535lbs for the Clio 197. Fuel economy has always been in the mid-thirties on average, and the lates cars are some of the lowest emmiting hot hatches in Europe. Combine that with performace like 0-60 in 6.9 (6.0 for the newest Clio Cup) and a top speed of over 130, and it becomes the kind of driver's car you might well find youself shopping for.

Except of course that I live the the U.S., so of course I can't. Renault left these shores in 1989, perhaps never to return. All in all it didn't seem like such a bad deal at the time, after all, Renault were hardly setting the U.S. on fire (Le Car engine rooms excepted) with their slim lineup of cheap, but fragile and gutless econo-boxes.

Thing is, even at that point, Europe was getting all the good stuff, including the Renault 5GT Turbo and the Alpine GTA. And over there things continued to improve to the point that when the Clio Williams debuted, it knocked memories of the Peugeot 205 GTi, and the Volkswage Golg GTi MkII out of enthusiasts heads. the Williams performance was a wakeup call to other hot hatch manufacturers, but it was the handling and road holding of the perked up clio that really got journalists foaming at the mouth. Light, direct, supple and focused and agile, just like a great hatch should be. And those valuse have been handed down to the Clio Cup of today.

I think Renault should give the U.S. market another try. With gas and oil where they are, there's every reason to expect some success for cars like the Clio, and the emmisions and crash safety restrictions are now much more even between the U.S. and E.U. There's no reason to suspect that cars like the Clio couldn't keep almost all of their performance and handling for the American market. After all, Alfa Romeo is doing the same thing next year, and may even bring over their full line in a couple years. The world needs for the U.S. market to have these choices. If U.S. consumers have quality economical cars available to them I believe they will start to buy them. It worked for the Japanese largely because durring the last energy crissis their cars had a percieved (and largely factuall) difference in quality to the economical European competition. these days that perception might just be reversed.

It's time for Europe to import cars other than Exotics, Luxury Sedans, and odd-balls like the Smart. The Mini has shown what clever marketing and a decent product can accomplish, lets just hope Renault is watching.

Another Chrysler Blast From The Past, For The Future...

In the Summer of 1989, I was a California State Jr. Life Gard, sitting at the entry kiosk to Huntington State Beach waiting for my mother to come pick me up after a day of practice. I was thirteen years old, and my interest in cars was at that point supplementary to my interest in warplanes, birds, and -a slightly newer interest- girls. I had plans to enter the Air Force, I spent weekends traipsing through back country on bird watching hikes, the girls... well, that was going to take some time to work out.
It was an afternoon in July, and I had gotten bored of talking to the park aide on whom I had a slight crush (it really was going to take some time), so I sat down with an issue of Car & Driver, my first. Inside was a review of an auto-show (I think it may have been Detroit, but I'm not sure.), and at that show was a concept that would help for my idea of what a sports car should be.

The Plymouth Speedster was tiny, tiny like I didn't know cars could be. Its length was only 130", its wheelbase a faintly ridiculous 81.7". It had no top, and really no windows. Its interior was made mostly of wet suit material and the designers theorized that the cockpit would simply be washed out with a hose along with the body. There wasn't mention of a motor (the concept didn't have one), but the blurb did say that the car would attempt to combine the virtues of cars and motorcycles, so small and high-winding were definitely in the cards, as well as a mid-ship mounting position.

There were three problems. One: Gas was as cheap as it had been in a decade, and was on the way down. Two: The name Plymouth meant nothing to the Speedster's target audience, except old men, pipes, slippers... even the Barracuda and Roadrunner were long forgotten. Three: There was another concept car from Chrysler Corp. at that show, one that would go on, courtesy of Maximum-Bob Lutz, to become the last American Muscle icon. You guessed it, the speedster was sharing floor-space with the original Viper, the one with the metal side-pipes.

So the speedster was shuffled loose the show-stand coil as quickly and quietly as it appeared. In some ways I think that was the end of Plymouth. Knowing that they had no clout with the youth market and only a rapidly aging demographic on which to depend for sales, Chrysler let the brand slip into obscurity and eventually decay. Years later, Plymouth would give excitement one last try with the pretty, but ultimately hamstrung Prowler. Instead of trying to energize the youth of America with cheap fun, the car attempted to appeal to aging pre-boomers by looking like the hot rods they had built as teenagers and twenty somethings. It didn't work, and Plymouth was dead a shortly after.

It's not quite the end of the story, for as they always seem to, Chrysler presented another shot at the concept many years later. It was based on the Smart car, which Chrysler was able to obtain through the link-up with Daimler. Called the Slingshot it came complete with several things the Speedster had forgone, such as a roof, and windows. In essence it was the same concept, this time repackaged around readily available mechanicals. Gas though, still wasn't high enough for America to abandon its love affair with the V8, and so the Slingshot went the way of all American small sports cars since the Crosley Hotshot, which, come to think of it, may have started the rebuke of such cars in the first place...

Oh Copperhead, Where Art Thou?

It was such a great idea. A small, two seat roadster, a min-Viper, a car light enough to get V8 performance out of a V6... any wonder it went nowhere?

The Dodge Copperhead debuted in 1997 as a concept for a sports car that Dodge could slot in not only beneath the Viper, but under the contemporary Corvette as well. It's V6 would have been taken directly from the LH sedan, and mated to a five speed gearbox, would have endowed the little roadster with performance on par with GM muscle cars of the day, while the all independent suspension would have guaranteed that, come the twisty end of the road, the Copperhead could scurry away from all but the fastest US competition. the light weight and 3.5 liter engine would also have made the Copperhead a comparatively stingy car compared to the F-bodies and Fox IV platforms of the day, a virtue little heeded in the petrol rich 90s.

Thing is, it's still a good idea, and still a competitive formula. On paper it may lose something to the current Mustang and resurgent Camaro, not to mention Dodge's own resurrected Challenger. But ten years on the Copperhead is more a muscle car of the future than ever, and still an idea that needs money behind it. Dodge itself until recently had faith in the idea, look no further than the Demon, and the Razor. This is what America, and the world need to build right now, not a cache of ill-timed, nostalgic bloat-barges. Give us the Copperhead, and Chrysluberus may yet pull it out. Give us real sports cars, at a fair price, that get real mileage, and we'll come back to the showrooms.

Well, I won't, I'll just wait until they're in the Auto-Trader for ten grand...

Et Tu Honda?

I was angry when I first saw pictures and specs for the new Nissan GT-R. I knew what it was going to be, and it made me angry. I like sports cars, but that doesn't mean that I like cars that only know how to go fast. The GT-R only knows how to go fast, and at that, it is very talented. A time of 7:29 around Germany's Nurbergring is something about which Nissan can brag for years.

It's how the Nissan accomplishes this feat that gets my ire up. The car has to do most of the driving itself. Sure, the pilot does things like turn the wheel, and slam on the pedals (both of them), but those, along with the transmission paddles aren't so much controls anymore as they are a collective suggestion box. The car takes the information you give it about what you'd like to see happen in an upcoming corner, and then shuffles torque, applies brakes, firms up or softens damping, and sets a rear wheel angle or two until it can deliver that. At no point does the car demand anything of the drive other than knowledge of the basic route the road takes. The other side of this is that, despite being a rather practical 2+2 coupe, the car has some really incredible limitations. It's big, really big. It's thirsty too, in an age of $5.00 a gallon gas, I'm not too sure I like the idea of a car that usually returns economy numbers in the teens. And there are equipment issues which simply cannot be ignored. For example, the tires are filled with dried Nitrogen, not air. Air, you see, expands when it gets hot, Nitrogen does so to a much smaller degree and thus the car avoids some issues with the tires that usually cause lack of grip. Have you ever thought about where you'd get dried nitrogen? Have you ever heard of dried Nitrogen?

All this sucks because for a long time the GT-R was the car that proved how well high-tech could be tuned to deliver a great, non-synthetic driving experience. For longer than that, it's been a performance and driving icon, dating back to the PGC-10 of the late 60s. The NSX on the other hand is a relative newcomer. Sure, it's been around for fifteen plus years, but there's really only been the one model, continually upgraded and delivering a driving experience that, in its day, taught names like Ferrari what they were doing wrong. It too has always been a high-tech car, but one that flaunted its technology in terms of materials and engineering, not simply letting electronics take over and make the car faster. In that sense it's always been one of my favorite cars, and one who's influence on the industry can still be felt today.

And so it was with not a little anger that I read in the news this morning that Honda has set a rather predictable target for the NSX replacement when it debuts in about two years, the GT-R's 7:29 time around the ring. It's a huge target, don't get me wrong, and it will mean a total re think of the way Honda's flagship performance car is engineered. Gone will be the pure and responsive mid-ship engine layout, along with rear-wheel drive. The aluminum platform may still be used, but lightness will not be among the car's virtues. In place of the venerable v-tec equipped 3.2 liter V6, there will be a 5.5 liter V10, and 550bhp. It's all too much for me, and I can't think that, were he alive today, this is the path that Soichiro Honda would like to see his company take. Here was an engineer, a man whos engines were always small and efficient, his cars light, and agile.

I still want an NSX. I still want a KPGC-10 GTR as well, but I don't think I'll ever want either of these cars. I don't want a car that does everything for me. I don't want to be taken out of the process like that, and I don't like the infancy brought on by all the weight these systems bring with them. Isn't it time? Isn't it time for sports cars that are neither heavy weight computer simulators, nor stripped out, super light specials? What's happened, where are the sports coupes we used to drive around in? Where are the Preludes and 24oSXs, the GT-6s and GTVs? Neither cheap, nor expensive, these cars allowed driving fun for many people who simply have no option anymore. Why is it that only the rich get to enjoy driving? And then only at speeds they cannot possibly control, thus needing the car to enjoy driving for them...

UPDATE: Two days in and Honda already seem dangerously close to getting their wish. The NSX replacement is being unoffically timed at 7:37... joy.