thought aloud by pablo deferrari

When the Hausfrau was ready to retire her 944, she decided to get a job as a Friseuse and get a Boxster. 

The funny thing about this is that whoever nicknamed those two models didn't realize the great potential they had. Sure, they weren't as powerful as the 911, but did they have to be cast off as something a bit limp-wristed? We may laugh at this reference, but in reality, it's a bit silly.
I'll sheepishly admit that I was part of this macho view, but then again, I didn't know any better until my wife pulled up in her 944S, told me to shut-up, wipe the smirk off my face, and tossed me the keys. I was a changed man.

"...what a great handling, nimble little car that sucked air on one side and let out a fierce growl on the other."

So much so that when she was ready for something a bit modern, she climbed into a bitchin' triple black 986 with killer 18" Sport Classic II wheels to further my education. That car, I must admit, was superb. The build quality wasn't that impressive, but man, what a great handling, nimble little car that sucked air on one side and let out a fierce growl on the other. The hairs on my neck would stand at attention when I redlined each gear.

She couldn't peel me away from the thing...that howl at the upper reaches of the tach was seriously intoxicating. So much so that the excitement of that sound caused me to push her hard enough to break the back end loose a few times around a tight curve. It was that good.
Do you know what I loved most about the car? The fact that it took some of Porsche's most important and nearly forgotten history and presented it in a svelte little package for a new generation that never knew the likes of the 550 or 718 RS 60 Spyder. Harm Lagaay nailed it. The 3-gauge cluster with the tach in the middle was obvious enough to most Porschephiles in its origins, as is the front-end design...pure DNA.

The first generation 986s were called "lead-sleds," presumably by the same dickheads who looked down their noses at the 944...pff house wife's car, do me a favor. It took great skill to squeeze out all of that little 2.5's muscle, and a hell of a lot of fun trying as any enthusiast would attest. My only regret was selling it cheifly because of the IMS scare, but also because we had our fun and decided to step back in Porsche time getting into something a bit more vintage. At 70.000 miles, we'e never had a serious hiccup.

I remember Matt Mariani and Jim Doerr suggesting that I include these great little cars, I was hesitant at first fearing the magazine would become a bit like watered down Scotch. But that won't be the case. It can only enrich and let others in on the new thinking of Porsche, borne from the lessons of our fab four. The early second generation of water-cooled cars everyone avoids like the clap will too have their day, it's inevitable. 

Nostalgia, you can't resist it.



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