Honda Fireblade SP
L aunched amid a spinning whirlwind of hype and expectation, we hoped for big things from the 2017 Honda Fireblade SP in Portugal. If that factory-spec’ dash was anything to go by, we were looking at lap records being smashed and a new SBOTY champ. However, the reality turned out very differently from how we hoped.
Just how the ’Blade managed to win a rival’s 1000cc shootout is baffling. It’s so fundamentally flawed in several key areas, not merely a few tenths here and there, and much of the blame lies with the ride-by-wire strategies. The initial throttle pick-up is too jerky, upsetting mid-corner poise and cannot be dialled out regardless of how many buttons you press. And man, there are some buttons to play with...
It also felt slow in a straight line against bolshier rivals, not surprising given the 163bhp dyno reading. The 2017 ’Blade has lost all of the midrange bulge of previous incarnations, although there’s now the beauty of being able to use all of its power, conveying a thrasher’s delight with a linear delivery that can be fully exploited. Rather than relying on midrange punch to propel from corners, you have to work the throttle more and preserve corner speed. It’s certainly more involving than previous models.
Despite the lack of power, the delivery is lively which is only heightened by the iffy/flighty ride-by-wire. And then that soundtrack! A classic example of pushing the boundaries of Euro 4 noise regs, the SP, when it’s singing, sounds like God tearing an earth-sized piece of cloth in a fit of rage.
The SP is comfortingly small, a slender piece between the gusset despite sharing the same riding position and ergonomics as its predecessor. Perhaps too slender, as the token screen (more like a heads-up display) is gash at high speeds and there’s very little fairing to hide behind as a man-size pilot. It’s also one of the lightest bike here and it feels like it, like a 600 on man ’roids. When the suspension is settled and the stars align, its front-end can be submissively bossed around and there’s very little to bemoan in the handling department. A consequence of Öhlins electronic bouncers, the front occasionally feels like it’s riding too high in the stroke and poised on top of its springs and mid-corner constant throttle is sometimes sketchy – another ride-by-wire kink.
Braking is another one of its weakest points. As with many others, you can’t turn ABS off, and the ’Blade was most prone to running into corners under heavy braking. Like the Panigale, but to a far lesser extent, the ’Blade was too inconsistent over a lap. It’s not a bike that we jumped on and went fast straight away. Sure, it’s easy to ride at dawdling pace but confidence to push doesn’t come intuitively and the bike jumping in and out of neutral was pretty fucking scary mid-corner. You have to figure its foibles, work with its
weaknesses and compensate in certain areas. Sometimes we got power when we wanted it, other times we’d wait. Bragging an anti-wheelie system that doesn’t function separately without traction control (a massive faux pas on Honda’s part) hindered the SP over the crests, and left some riders’ ballbags in tatters. If it wasn’t for a lack of mechanical grip from the rear, we might have got away without running TC to calm used rubber.
Before the lap times had commenced, I was following Bruce aboard the SP; I was on the R1M, which made mincemeat of Bruce and the ’Blade as he tried to override to compensate, throwing some serious dad dance moves in and out of corners. In spite of the list of grumbles, the lap time was semi-respectable and, with a good fixing, shows the SP’s conceivable result.