Lethbridge Herald

Thisstarbu­rned brightly, burned out quickly

- Malcom Gunn WHEELBASEM­EDIA.COM

The Judge was a magical nameplate that struck a mixture of fear and awe into anyone old enough to drive. But what’s with the name?

These days, any car maker would have to be more than a little crazy to brand one of their models “The Judge.” But back in the late 1960s and early 1970s, outright craziness was what sold cars and gained markets share. GM, Ford and Chrysler were locked in a death grip as they fought to attract young, upwardly mobile baby boomers with their thirst for speed and their bottomless supply of cash and credit.

Even straight-laced American Motors, builder of sane and sensible sedans, was eventually sucked into the “musclecar” vortex. It was the one time in the history of North American auto industry when this type of attitude prevailed in Detroit’s corporate offices.

In the mid-1960s, horsepower and cubic inches were all the rage. Although musclecars represente­d only a small fraction of total sales, they were viewed as important image builders by Detroit, which used them to puff up the Big Three’s youthorien­ted appearance. This was particular­ly evident at Pontiac, which, under whiz kid John Z. DeLorean’s guidance, had fully embraced performanc­e as the key ingredient that separated it from the other divisions in the General Motors stable. By 1964, the radical notion to stuff a bigblock V-8 between the frame rails of an “intermedia­te” economy coupe had resulted in the birth of the GTO. The car was as much about hype and hoopla as it was about horsepower, but it stirred up the lucrative youth market like no other car before or since. Once the horsepower gauntlet had been tossed, there was no stopping it. Every other GM car division, except Cadillac, quickly followed suit, hotly pursued by Ford, Chrysler and AMC.

But it was Plymouth, Chrysler’s low-priced sedan division that nailed it with the kids. The marketing hotshots thought this group cared little for a car with all the fancy trimmings (too much like Dad’s Newport Custom). All they cared about was straight-line, stoplight-to-stoplight performanc­e that would give them bragging rights.

Before anyone could say, or even spell, hemispheri­cal combustion chamber, out popped the Road Runner, a stripped-down Belvedere two-door model devoid of exterior chrome and gee gaws, save for the cute-sounding beep-beep horn. Under the hook lurked a potent 335-horsepower 383-cubicinch V-8 that could propel the car to 60 mph (96 km/h) from rest in seven seconds.

The Road Runner hit the streets for the 1968 model year and, not surprising­ly, became an instant hit. Also not surprising­ly, the car caught the attention of Pontiac’s product planners who surmised that the cheap-speed Road Runner might undermine their position as the top dog in the performanc­e field. They needed to build their own Road Runner.

The initial prototype was based on the GTO, but employed a pillared two-doorcoupe shell and hood used on the more commonplac­e Pontiac LeMans. The GTO’s rubber “Endura” front bumper was tossed in favour of a cheaper chromed piece.

Under the hood, further cost-saving measures meant replacing the GTO’s 400-cubic-inch engine with a smaller 350-cube V-8 equipped that used the 400’s cylinder heads. Tests proved this combinatio­n yielded quicker zero-to60-mph and quarter-mile times than the base 383-V-8 Road Runner.

The prototype, labelled the E/T (dragstrip jargon for “elapsed time”), was presented to John DeLorean, who reacted in a less-than-enthusiast­ic manner. Not only did he think it eroded the GTO’s image, but was mortified that anything smaller than the “Goat’s” traditiona­l 400 engine would go into the car. Clearly, DeLorean wanted something special. Instead of stripping down the GTO as was done in the first attempt, the next effort included all the standard GTO features, and added the potent 366-horsepower 400-cubic-inch “Ram Air” engine as part of the package. Also included was a Hurst T-handle shifter, heavy-duty suspension, chrome air cleaner and rocker arm covers, rally wheels and a rear deck spoiler. What was intended to be a low-priced Road Runner beater had become one of the most expensive cars in the class.

DeLorean loved it, but insisted the E/T name be dropped in favour of The Judge. At the time “Here come da Judge” was an expression used on Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-In, a popular comedyvari­ety TV show. The name stuck.

The finishing touches to The Judge consisted of an available bright orange paint scheme along with pop-art “The Judge” decals and matching side stripes.

The first cars were released to dealers in January of 1969, who sold more than 6,800 units, which amounted to 10 per cent of the total GTO production for that model year. By far, the vast majority were ordered in orange.

The following year, sales of The Judge dropped by half as the short-lived fad began to wane. In 1971, the final year for The Judge nameplate, a mere 374 cars were produced, including just 17 convertibl­es.

The Judge might have completely missed the mark as a Road Runner fighter, but for one glorious season it was the right car at the right time.

Malcolm Gunn is a feature writer with Wheelbase Media. He can be reached on the Web at www.theoctanel­ounge.com by clicking the contact link. Wheelbase supplies automotive news and features to newspapers across North America.

 ??  ?? The Judge had looks and performanc­e, but it turned out to have a very limited "cool" factor with buyers, peaking early and falling fast.
The Judge had looks and performanc­e, but it turned out to have a very limited "cool" factor with buyers, peaking early and falling fast.
 ??  ?? The previous GTO pictured here was arguably nicer to look at, but the marketing department eventually won out and the Judge was born.
The previous GTO pictured here was arguably nicer to look at, but the marketing department eventually won out and the Judge was born.

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