The Compleat Sports Car Stable

here are the six you should own and why

The Italians have a word for it: scuderia. Scuderia means, roughly, stable, but it means much more than that. A scuderia in its commonest sense is a collection, a group, a covey or pride of automobiles assembled for a distinct purpose. The blood-red vans rocking along the Italian roads every weekend, each carrying two or perhaps three racing cars, are labeled "Scuderia Ferrari" or "Scuderia Maserati" -- automobile teams, costing $50,000 or $60,000 apiece, built and brought together for the sole purpose of running faster over the roads than anything else can.

These are the cars of specialists, of aficionados, and they are to be seen not only in Italy, but throughout the civilized world. But these men are not the only ones who own sports cars -- of course. There are those of us, a growing brotherhood, who demand of a car more than mere transportation, just as they demand of a restaurant more than mere belly-filling. For you who would join this elite (and those who have made the initial step with the purchase of a first sports car) the act and the art of driving take on a special significance, and the question so often heard -- "Are sports cars really better?" -- is meaningless. The real question centers on purpose. Stock cars designed for all-round use, for family convenience, for simplicity of operation, for mass appeal, have few peers. The contrivers of sports cars, on the other hand, hew to the line of specialization. Each sports car design has as its goal the fulfillment of a specific function (though they all have in common extraordinary roadability, the capacity for high-speed cornering, fabulous pickup) and the esthetically compelling quality of precision machines. And that's why no single sports car is going to be enough for the city man of means and of discernment, who leaves the utility sedans to his duller fellows, the same blokes who take their two-pants suits where they find them and order red wine or white without specifying vineyard or vintage.

In Caesar's time, the man-about-Rome could hardly manage with only one chariot, the Regency buck's coach-builder was as important to him as his tailor, and the well-turned-out New Yorker of the Nineties had to have a closed town carriage, a brougham, a sulky and at least a station cart for the country.

Today's man-about-town should not be less well-equipped for transport, for sport, for dalliance. But the choice is wider today than it ever was: one's personal voiture can cost anything from $500 to $25,000 and there are hundreds of models to consider: one-cylinder, two-cylinder, three-cylinder, four, six, eight, twelve; gasoline, diesel, fuel-injection engines mounted front or rear; water- or air-cooled; driving the front wheels, the rear wheels, all four -- if the car has four wheels. It may have only three, if you like.

What does a playboy need to be well-mounted in 1957? Of the world's carriages, which, brought together, would form the ideal gentleman's scuderia? We think we know. You need six as a minimum, a hard core, a cadre on which you may, if you wish and your bank balance allows, build further. But the Basic Six will get you by, never fear, in any league at all between here and the Bosporus.

They are:

1. The Porsche Super.

2. The Lancia G. T. 2500.

3. The Bentley Continental.

4. The Jaguar XK140MC.

5. The Mercedes-Benz 300SL.

6. The Ford Thunderbird.

The cost? Prices vary. You can do business with some dealers and with some you can't. There can be a spread of as much as $3500 on some of the cars according to the amount and kind of equipment you want. But, taking it all in all, say $40,000 -- the price of a pretty ordinary house today. With a private scuderia like this, who wants a house? All you need is a good big garage, a nice one, properly finished off inside, heated, naturally, and decorated with early racing posters, a few brass head lamps, a model car or two under glass, a divan and a handful of leather chairs. Instead of building the garge six cars long, make it for eight and use the extra space for one big closed-off room: bath, bar, pantry, hi-fi and an eight foot square bed. You need more than this for the good life? You're greedy, we can do nothing for you.

The difference in capability, in feel, in utility between even similar automobiles comes as an astonishment to most men. The Porsche is really nothing like the Thunderbird; the Continental has no point of similarity with the Mercedes-Benz; the Lancia and the Jag are different as bourbon and rose-water. Were this not true, the selection would be pointless. True, any automobile in running order will transport you from office to station to home or whatever. But the cognoscenti do not look for transport; they are aware of the difference in design purpose among automobiles, of the varying standards of performance, and, most of all, of the range of sensuality, of sheer tactile enjoyment. There is a separate capability and a separate kick in each of these six automobiles.

• • •

The Porsche Super. This is a small automobile. It was designed by Ferdinand Porsche, one of the three men the world automobile industry has produced who may, with some justice, be called great men, and possibly, near-geniuses. The other two were Sir Henry Royce and Ettore Bugatti. Porsche designed the car from scratch, and it owes very little to anything else except the Volkswagon, another Porsche design, and the Czechoslovakian Tatra, in which Porsche also had a hand. (He designed the Tiger tank, too.) The Porsche has a four-cylinder, air-cooled engine mounted in the rear. There are three engines available: the "1600" which produces 60 horsepower; the "Super" which puts out 100; and the "Carrera," 110. The "1600" is a plain-bearing engine, the "Super" is roller-bearing, the "Carrera" is a detuned double overhead camshaft racing engine. Top speed ranges from 100 mph with the 60-horsepower version to about 130 with the "Carrera." The price range is from $2900 to $5500, roughly, and the car comes as a roadster, convertible, hardtop and completely open racing model. The Porsche may be the most fun to drive of anything in the world. A great many authorities think so. One must fold and twist a bit to get into it. Once in, there's all the room in the world. The seats are contoured to reach around and hold you gently at the hips and shoulders. Visibility over the sloping nose is perfect. The gearshift lever is as responsive as a passionate woman to your touch; the transmission works on a unique balking-room system, it is as smooth as a spoon of molasses, and you can slam it back and forth from gear to gear just as quickly as you can move your hand. The available acceleration of the Porsche is astounding; the brakes are about 50% oversize and air-cooled beyond any possibility of fade; and the steering, very soft and very quick, is what power-steering tries to be and is not. The Porsche was designed for 50-50 fore-and-aft weight distribution. At about 60 miles an hour, air-pressure bears down on the wind-tunnel-bred frontal area and the balance becomes exact almost to a pound. There is virtually no wind-roar audible to a Porsche driver. He sits there, listening to the FM radio, clipping through holes in the traffic-pattern that just aren't there for anybody else, and, when he wants to, running away from almost anything he sees. And the car is built. I've never heard a rattle in a Porsche. I've seen salesmen sit on the doors and swing back and forth. Why not? They have bank-vault hinges.

The car has only two flaws, neither of them important: (1) Because it has independent suspension of the rear wheels via swing axles, and a rear-mounted engine, the Porsche is an inherently oversteering car. That is, it tends to go more sharply into a corner than one might expect, judging from the amount the steering-wheel has been turned. The solution is to drive carefully for the first 250 miles, until you learn to use a little less wheel. After that the Porsche will stick to the road like paint. (2) All air-cooled engines are noisy, since they have no water-blanket around them, and the Porsche is air-cooled. I find it cozy to hear the little thing grinding away back there -- a very long-lived engine, by the way. Others stuff a fibre-glass curtain around it. There will never be very many Porsches, since the factory is small, and they cannot be made quickly in any case. Daily production was five or six the last time I heard. The competition models have a fabulous racing record, of course, and many American owners race the car. But its place in our scuderia is not as a competition car. It is included here because it delivers more sheer sensual pleasure than anything else on wheels. Driving a Porsche, you can, with small effort, believe that the seat of your trousers is a part of the automobile.

• • •

The Lancia G. T. 2500 (G. T. for Gran Turismo, freely translated "fast touring"; the 2500 for the engine size, 2500 cubic centimeters) comes from Lancia of Italy, one of the oldest automobile manufacturing houses in the world. It is available, in this country, only as a convertible two-seater, and it costs around $5400, admittedly a stiff price. The Lancia's engine is the only V-6 in current production anywhere. It's a design that originated with Lancia and the firm has had vast experience with it. The engine produces 118 horsepower, enough to get you 110 miles an hour, and it will give about 18 miles to the gallon. Like the Porsche, the Lancia is years ahead of the pack in design. To insure correct fore-and-aft weight distribution, the transmission and the clutch are built integrally with the rear axle, and the rear brake drums are inboard. Because the engine is nearly all aluminum and weighs only about 350 pounds, rear placement of the transmission is enough to effect almost perfect balance. The rear axle is of the De Dion type, usually found only on racing cars: transmission carried on the frame, driveshafts with no duty but to turn the wheels, which are tied together by a tubular "dead" axle. The brakes will manage the car even if it's driven flat-out down an Alpine pass.

The Lancia is typically Italian: design and machine-work of the highest order, beautifully-lined body, some skimping on things the Italians regard as nonessentials: weather protection, door-handles, plating, and so on. The car is famous among connoisseurs for one ability above all: it can skip around a corner in a way that is almost incredible. You can run a Lancia into a right-angle corner at a speed that will have your passenger looking wild-eyed for the panic button, but it will go around without a slide, skid or roll. It's a rugged car, too, almost unbreakable. Its comparatively low horsepower and low top speed rule it out for most competitive use -- but Lancias took 1st, 2nd and 3rd place in the sports car division of the 1955 Mexican Road Race. No other machine has had so much influence on postwar sports car design.

There are very few G. T. 2500s in this country, and there never will be many. Only a few will pay $5400 for the two graces the Lancia offers: cornering ability that makes you hate straight roads and the snob-value of a car so rare that Jaguars, by comparison, are common as grass.

• • •

The Bentley Continental is, with the Rolls-Royce, certain models of Ferrari, and the fabulous Pegaso, made in Spain, among the most expensive automobiles available. A Continental -- the firm had the name before Lincoln -- can cost $20,000 but $16,500 will get you a very nice one in sedan form. The Continental is made to transport four people at high speed, in utter luxury and total silence. It does this better than any other car in the world. The body is a compromise between stateliness and streamlined effectiveness in an air-stream (it reminds (concluded overleaf)Sports Cars(continued from page 26) some people of certain Pontiacs). In any case, most Bentley purchasers prefer a sedate looking carriage, content that only the very few well-informed viewers can visualize the price-tag when they see the car. Within, the picture is different. Here you may have anything in the world you like. Hooper, Mulliner or Park Ward, the coach-builders favored by Bentley, will upholster the car in vicuña or kangaroo hide if you wish. Naturally the driver's seat will be shaped to fit you and no one else, the distance to the pedals will be the length of your legs. The ordinary, off-the-rack Continental will have woodwork of No. 1 grade matched walnut, but if you incline to rosewood or zebra, say so. Multi-speaker radio, bar furnished with assorted crystal (a full second set will be furnished to take care of breakage) and a picnic set -- these, everyone has. And, of course, mirrored vanities, glove boxes, cigarette lighters everywhere. You'd like an electric razor under the dash, a vacuum bottle concealed under spring-loaded flaps in the corner of each seat, a hideaway for an emergency flask of brandy? Speak up, the plans are on file, it has all been done before. You needn't worry about such trifles as a defroster for the rear window. That's standard. The big six-cylinder engine will move the car at 115 miles an hour, with acceleration that is particularly notable from 75 up. The brakes operate on the earliest; best and most expensive "power" system -- mechanical servo, which means that power to apply the brakes is "bled" off the transmission. Thus, the force with which the brakes go on is always in direct proportion to the speed of the car.

Absolute silence has for 50 years been the ideal of the Rolls-Royce company, which has since the 1930s made the Bentley. At 100 miles an hour, there is no need to raise the voice even slightly in the Continental. The heating system of the car puts out warmth in impressive volume, but without the slightest whisper of rushing air.

When you, your current playmate and another couple have 500 miles to run for a weekend, the Continental is what you need. Nothing else in the world does the jobs so well.

• • •

American sports car drivers learned about sports cars from the old TC model MG, and they were weaned on the Jaguar -- the XJ120 model now superseded by the XK140MC. The Jaguar is possibly the best-known sports car in the world. It is astonishing to think that a car that will run down to the liquor store like a bicycle can also be used in almost any kind of competition with every chance of success; that it will run through big city traffic all day without a whimper and show 130 miles an hour at any time you want it -- and all this for about $3600 with radio, heater, walnut and leather interior, and double mohair top.

In the sportsman's scuderia of six, the Jag would be used partially for competition. It's one of the best rally cars in the world; you can run it in hill-climbs and straight races as well. You'll get your share of places and you'll have fun. Fun, of course, is what we're talking about. If you are earnest about racing, you'll run the Porsche or the 300SL, or you'll buy a Ferrari or a hot Corvette. You'll set the car aside for racing, use it for nothing else, and hire a full-time mechanic to see that it's always ready. That's fun, too, but it's a serious kind of fun. For most of us there's more kick in sticking a Halda average-speed indicator and a couple of stop watches into a car and seeing what we can do in a two-day rally. For that, the XK140 is the machine.

• • •

There are faster cars in the world than the Mercedes-Benz 300SL, but they're priced in the high five figures. The 300SL is to all intents and purposes the fastest production automobile available, and it costs about $7800. When it first appeared, no one believed that the car could be made for that price, and a worldwide rumor had it that the factory was taking a $1000 loss on each car and charging it to advertising against their many other models. Initial production was only 500 cars a year and it isn't much more than that now.

The 300SL is so much automobile that it frightens experienced drivers. The acceleration developed by its six-cylinder engine, running on fuel-injection since 1954, is quite outside normal experience. The 300SL goes from 0 to 100 mph in 16 seconds! A swing-axle car, like the Porsche, it requires a special technique on corners, and the vacuum-booster brakes, which operate in 3-1/2-inch drums and can lock the wheels tight at 140 miles an hour, also demand extra respect. The average driver who climbs through the gull-wing doors of the 300SL and sticks his foot into it as if it were a Cadillac will be in serious trouble within half-a-mile. The car is noisy and harsh in some ways -- typically a man's automobile. It's built in standard Grade-A German style, which means that you probably couldn't find a burred nut on it if you looked all week. As a matter of fact, every nut on the car is tightened with a torque wrench, and the ratio of inspectors to workers is something like one to seven.

This is one of the most successful competition cars in the world. It was almost unbeatable in national Sports Car Club of America rankings until last year, when it was shaded by Corvette. Why not replace it with a Corvette, then? For sheer competition, as we remarked above, you might -- but we like the 50-year racing history behind the Mercedes-Benz, its unique station among the world's cars and its fantastic workmanship -- until the factory puts the new model, the SLR, on sale and runs away from everything for another couple of years.

• • •

When the farsighted Ford people decided, after the war, to produce a sports car, they also craftily decided not to call it a sports car, but a "personal car." That's what the Thunderbird is. It is not, in the classic definition, a sports car: something that can be used to transport two people in reasonable comfort and also be used successfully in competition under international rules. The T-bird is a compromise and an enormously successful one. It's good-looking, fast enough for even a very good driver, and if it won't handle with, say, a Lancia, it has no vices to get you into trouble, either. And it has one great and overriding virtue: if you break a fanbelt in Pinhook, Indiana, you won't have to walk more than a couple of blocks to find a new one. No other car in our scuderia can make that claim! When your new girl decides she'd love to drive down to Arizona from New York with you to visit a maiden aunt, or from San Francisco to New Orleans for the Mardi Gras, and you want a smooth, simple trip, nothing hairy, no records broken, and the least possible attention from the police on the way -- roll out the Thunderbird. It's a buy at its list price of $3367.

• • •

These, then, comprise the basic sports car stable. First, the Porsche Super for threading traffic with brilliant ease, for the winding trail, for the sheer sensual pleasure of driving. Second, the Lancia G. T. 2500 for superb cornering ability, for ruggedness and for -- let's be frank -- snob appeal. Next, the Bentley Continental for the ultimate in silent, elegant luxury. Then the Jaguar XK140MC, not only for its smart utility (yes, it can combine those seeming opposites) but also for fun in competition. Fifth, the Mercedes-Benz 300SL for more dedicated racing and because it is, without doubt, the best machine of its kind in the world. And finally the Ford Thunderbird whose ease of maintenance in this country recommends it for long-range touring. Each of these half-dozen has its special virtues, and together they may afford you nearly the pleasure of a personally selected harem of that number.