AND THE BEST SUPERCAR IN THE WORLD IS ...
Getting a chance to drive the four latest entries in field brings a unique perspective
Ah, the fine art of bench racing, the act of waxing lyrical about automobiles you have not even sat in, let alone driven. Universal the world over, debated in as many tongues as our planet has dialects, the fine art of motorized blarney is invariably debated at some volume, most often encouraged by the consumption of adult beverages and almost always in the company of friends named Bud, Bob and You-old-so-and-so.
And since the dawn of the internal combustion engine, the topic has never really varied.
Oh, the actual subjects have changed over the years — Alfa Romeo versus Maserati long since displaced by McLaren versus Ferrari — but the questions posed are always the same: Which is faster? Which is sexier? And the most important, which would I own?
Indeed, the only thing that changes as bench racers age is “when I get older” gradually morphs into “if I win the lottery” as the starry-eyed dreams of youth are replaced by the unfortunate realities of middle age.
Which makes me, then, the luckiest boy ever to escape from Sept-Iles, Que. Under the auspices of what I still tell Canada Revenue Agency is a job, I get to drive the very supercars I used to bench race. Indeed, I’ve driven the entire gamut of the junior supercar field: Ferrari’s 488, the McLaren 720S, Ford’s hot-offthe-press GT and Lamborghini’s seriously tweaked Performante version of the Huracan. Which means, under the universal rules of bench racing, I am obliged to pontificate. So, pass the envelope, the winners are:
Me go fast now: Judged on pure power alone, one has to declare the 720S the ne plus ultra of entry-level supercars. Newly invigorated to 4.0-litres, McLaren’s turbocharged V8 now boasts 710 horsepower. Of the three turboed engines in this quartet (the 488, the Ford GT and the 720S all feature twin turbos) it plainly offers the most urge. The 661-hp Ferrari feels remarkably similar, but slightly diminished. The Ford GT’s 3.5-L V6 EcoBoost, meanwhile, is the least powerful turbocharged engine here, not surprising since it a) has the least displacement and b) the fewest pistons. Yes, it does boast the highest top speed of any of the four contenders
— a whopping 348 kilometres an hour — but that has more to do with its swoopy aerodynamics than internal combustion moxie.
And the poor Lamborghini? Despite being tweaked to within an inch of its life and spinning to no less than 8,500 rpm, even the Performante version of Lamborghini’s V10 boasts but 631 horses. While posting an identical 2.9-second time to 100 km/h as the all-conquering McLaren, it’s more than a second slower to 200. Are we witnessing the demise of the naturally aspirated engine?
Advantage, by more than a few psi of turbo boost: McLaren 720S
Aural delight: But there is a sound reason Lamborghini has foregone the turbo revolution. Where the McLaren’s turbo V8 sounds as synthesized as a deadmau5 drop, the Huracan’s V10 is no less than the Bohemian Rhapsody sung at 8,500 rpm, no piped in “sound amplifiers” needed, thank you very much. The Lambo is the only junior supercar that still makes the hair on the back of your neck tingle, every blip of its incredibly responsive throttle an invitation — nay, an imploration — to motorized mayhem. If this be the death of the naturally aspirated ( junior) supercar, let us at least rejoice in its swan song.
Advantage, soaring symphonically above the rest: Lamborghini’s Huracan Performante.
Snob appeal: Were I more polite, I’d find a way to avoid mentioning that 95 per cent of these cars will see nothing more arduous than Yorkville Avenue or Granville Street, their most important function stirring jealous envy among we proles. In this regard, two stand above the rest — the 488 and Ford’s new GT — the 488 because, well, it’s a Ferrari, and the GT because it manages to simultaneously look traditional and futuristic, the modern equivalent of the original Lamborghini Countach. In the final analysis, stylist Craig Metros’ ability to seamlessly marry the space age and the organic without offending either is bloody marvellous.
Advantage, at least in the eye of this beholder: Ford GT Niftiest technology: In a similar vein, most of the technology — like the power — in these cars will never get used, but it does elevate the bench racing to hightech. Lamborghini’s Aerodinamica Lamborghini Attiva (ALA), for instance, not only increases aerodynamic downforce, but also directs it to the wheel of choice. Novel, simple and effective, it’s the engineering trifecta. On the other hand, I just love the GT’s dual-spring, dual-rate suspension system that lets Ford slam
its sleek beast down to within 70 millimetres of terra firma without grounding out the bottom’s expensive carbon-fibre bits.
And routing the inlet tract from turbocharger to intake manifold through the GT’s rear buttresses (those wing-like appendages connecting fender to main body) is engineering simplicity at its best.
Advantage, so sorry for wussing out: a tie between Ford’s GT and the Huracan Performante.
Best Street Car: Determining the strengths of these four is actually quite easy since they divide up evenly between cars meant for the track (the Ford GT and the Huracan Performante) and the road (the 488 and 720S). Of the latter two, there’s precious little difference; the Ferrari offers more posing power, the McLaren a little more comfortable interior. Call me shallow, but the tiebreaker is the universal adoration that the Prancing Horse always engenders.
Advantage, by a badge: Ferrari 488.
Best Track Weapon: Oh boy, how do you judge this one? A Ford GT LM — surprisingly little different from the road-going car — just won the 24 Hours of Le Mans. The Huracan Performante (thanks to the aforementioned downforce) just set the new lap record at the Nurburgring, the current gold standard of supercar performance. Which more accurately reflects the truth of supercar speed? Oh man, that’s tough. In the end, while the Ford GT may ultimately have more potential as delivered, the Performante, thanks to its ALA active aerodynamics, is the sweetest-steering supercar extent.
Advantage, because it inspires (almost too much) confidence: Lamborghini Huracan Performante.
And finally, which I would buy if, as per bench-racer tradition, I won the lottery, the winner is … none of ’em, actually.
The sweet-steering Lambo comes tantalizingly close, but as plainly gorgeous and scintillating fast as these four may be, none quite make me lament my lack of millions enough to take up hedge funding, stock manipulating or whatever it is they do on Bay Street.
Instead, if my lucky numbers came up, I would find the nicest, lowest mileage 458 Speciale I could find and park it in my garage for the next 30 years. “Yestertech” it may be, but waking up to the scream of that flat-plane crank-shafted V8 every single day for the rest of my life would make me very happy indeed. Looking backwards might be a violation of the bench-racing rule book, but such is the downside of actually driving all your dreams.