MGB LE Roadster
MGB production lasted longer than anybody at its launch in 1962 could ever have imagined, but this last-of-the-line LE Roadster mixes 1960s nostalgia with a hefty dose of 1970s and 1980s style.
The MGB swansong that marked the end of MG production at Abingdon.
In the 1970s and 1980s, some special edition cars were a clever means of clearing an obsolete product from showrooms by way of adding fog lamps, vinyl roofs and a MW/ LW radio to the specification. Other special editions fall into the category of ‘agreeable enough but now almost forgotten,’ such as the Ford Fiesta Sandpiper or the Vauxhall Cavalier Command Performance.
There is a third category too, as exemplified by Peter Cobb’s MGB Limited Edition Roadster, which marked the end of a long-running model with style and distinction. The sales copy informed prospective buyers that ‘ Two are being acquired by the BL Heritage Collection. The remaining 998 are being offered for sale to members of the public.’ Compared with the standard MGB, the Limited Editions boasted Stag-style alloy wheels (convertible owners could also order wires), an LE front spoiler and rather smart colour schemes – KEW 157W looks very stylish in the Roadster's Bronze Metallic, while coupés were finished in Pewter Metallic. Both versions came with matching side stripes (MG preferred the description of ‘special distinguishing livery’) while the cabin featured very distinctive upholstery.
UK market sales did not commence until the beginning of 1980, with the Roadster costing £6445 and the GT £6937. By that time, the Roadster was nearly unique in the marketplace, for the only other British open-topped car in the same class was the TR7. As for the smaller Leyland sports cars, the Midget had ceased production on 7th December 1979 and the Spitfire was discontinued in August 1980.
The MGB LE was a vehicle that virtually anyone would have been proud to own, even if the seat trim was reminiscent of garden furniture displayed on Sale of The Century. Yet the LE’s debut was inevitably tinged with regret, as it denoted not only the demise of the MGB, but also the Abingdon factory – and seemingly of MG itself.
Readers of a mature nature, (by which I mean those old enough to remember the days of three- channel television,) will recall that October 1980 saw two significant developments for BL, one positive and the other rather less promising.
On the plus side there was the launch of the Mini Metro, one of the most eagerly awaited British cars of its era. On the minus side, the 24th of that month saw the Abingdon plant close its doors for the last time. In some ways, this closure had been a long time coming. During the 1970s, the British Leyland story had begun to resemble a labyrinthine soap opera, and Abingdon looked increasingly at risk. The factory was more efficient than Longbridge, but in 1979 senior management claimed that the company was losing £900 on each MGB. Two-thirds of the 30,000 annual production was destined for the USA, but sales there were said to be severely affected by the currency crisis. Other industry observers argued that the B remained so popular in the States that it had
a negative impact on the TR7, the model heavily promoted by the newly formed Jaguar- RoverTriumph division.
MG remained upbeat and hopeful though, and arranged an elaborate 50th anniversary celebration at the plant on the 9th September. However, on that same day The Observer carried an ominous list of BL operations that were under threat: Speke, Canley, Seneffe – and Abingdon. On the following day Leyland’s Chairman Michael Edwardes, with all the timing of Mike and Bernie Winters, announced the imminent closure of the Oxfordshire works – MGB production would continue for a short period for US dealers to have stock for the spring of 1981, but that would be it.
Many enthusiasts understandably feared this would result in the end of one of the world’s most famous automotive names, despite BL informing the media that it was a valuable asset. That was hardly reflected by their approach on the ground, as by 1980 the B was the sole Octagon-badged car – as we have seen, the Midget ceased production in December 1979 and the last MG saloon, the Cowley-built ADO16 1300, was a distant memory from 1973.
The MG Owners’ Club launched a Save Abingdon campaign, and a month later there appeared to be fresh hope in the form of a consortium comprising Alan Curtis (the then chairman of Aston Martin), the television mogul Peter Cadbury and other major names. This group planned a £30million bid for the factory and the rights to the MG name. By June of 1980 they unveiled an MGB with a William Towns- created upgraded bodywork to be displayed at the NEC Motor Show. Sadly, these promising ideas ultimately came to nothing (although the prototype survives), as did BL’s plan to use the works for their special vehicles operation. Those
Those 1000 Limited Editions were to represent Abingdon’s swan song, and on 23rd October 1980 a GT with the chassis number , G-HD5-523002 was the last of 512,112 MGBs to leave the line
1000 Limited Editions were to represent Abingdon’s swan song, and on 23rd October 1980, a GT with the chassis number G- HD5-523002 was the last of 512,112 MGBs to leave the production line.
For enthusiasts around the world, it seemed that the Octagon badge had faded into the history books. There were assurances from BL that the name would reappear ‘on a distinctive new model,’ but it indeed seemed that MG had gone the way of Riley, Wolseley and Austin- Healey. Dealers directed former MG customers to the TR7 convertible, mainly in vain for it was a product of the enemy camp. Ironically, it would cease production just one year after the B – for Triumph, 1981 was The Year of The Acclaim.
Abingdon built 420 LE Roadsters and 580 LE GTs – Peter’s car pictured here is believed to be number 245. Peter himself is quite a devotee of the B, having owned a MkIII Roadster and the special edition Jubilee GT back in the 1980s. He went on to acquire a GT two years ago, and the LE in 2019 from a small Midlands garage. KEW had spent most of its life in Hertfordshire, and when it joined the Cobb fleet, there were a mere 16,500 miles on the clock and MoT certificates that date from the 1980s.
One of KEW’s many charms is that, in Peter's words, entering the cabin is like going back to the 1960s. This is not to suggest that the LE is at all Spartan, for the last six years of the MGB’s life saw an increasingly elaborate list of standard equipment. At the end of the 1970s an owner could expect Laycock overdrive, halogen headlamps, sun visors, a zip- out rear window, a carpet on the floor, inertia reel sear- belts, a centre console and a clock. To put such fittings into a historical context, a heater and an ashtray were on the extras list for early versions, whereas KEW also boasts a cigarette lighter, and fascia air vents in place of the useless footwell inlets.
However, for all these improvements, the LE’s design is clearly rooted in an earlier epoch. The doors still sport those familiar BMC safety handles, while the heater remains a water valve unit. The original orange and brown upholstery may have attempted to lend the MGB that Hai Karate or Norwich 'Quiz Of The Week' look, but the effect was really just to highlight the charmingly dated appeal of the interior. In 1962 Motor described the MGB as a ‘delightful modern sports car,’ but a mere seven years later they called it ‘ vintage but competitive.’
Of course, BMC had not intended for the B to enjoy such a long production run, and as early as 1964 they had begun to consider a successor. This was EX234, which was powered by the A-series engine and featured elegant coachwork by Pininfarina, all- disc brakes and independent rear suspension. Its road manners even received praise from John Surtees, but the project was abandoned in 1966. One reason for EX234’s cancellation was the B’s continued strong sales in the USA, but in 1968 MG were once again making plans for the future. This time they considered ADO76, a Michelotti-styled update.
This too went nowhere, probably a casualty of the recent Leyland/ BMC merger, and it would be fair to say that MG products would henceforth be neglected in favour of those hailing from Canley. One notable exception was the 1973 MGB GT V8, but a 1980 newspaper report from
Abingdon noted: ‘ If there was any one factor responsible for the closure, it was the Triumph sports car, the TR7.’
BL’s directorship had an unfortunate habit of overlooking critical models during the 1970s – the Mini and the Range Rover also fall into this category – even though the B remained highly popular at home and abroad. However, KEW does remind us that the MG’s 18-year life-span appears far longer than it actually was due to it encompassing a seismic period of social change. When the MGB succeeded the MGA in September of 1962, the brochures harked back to the previous decade with their air- brushed illustrations. This was a time of the last National Servicemen awaiting their demob, and The Beatles recording Love Me Do. Meanwhile, Abingdon traditionalists were railing about this radical new MGB model, which was not only Abingdon’s first monocoque-bodied sports car, but worse still it came with exterior door handles and winding windows! Dash it all, where would such decadence end? By the time Peter’s car was first registered, Joe Dolce’s Shaddap You Face was topping the charts, while pounds, shillings and pence was but a memory. By that time, deluded executives believed a Sony C7 Betamax VCR was a symbol of success and that an MG was transport for the elderly.
Certain elements of the motoring press echoed these prejudices towards the end of the B’s career. Roy Harry of The Guardian clearly departed the bed on the wrong side when he wrote: ' The MGB has all the sophistication of a farm cart.’ By contrast, a 1975 Autocar feature concluded: ‘ One does not envy the body designer who has to follow such a pleasant looking sports car, which is still, in spite of its failings, many of the things a sports car should be.’
Indeed, as late as 1979 What Car remained enthusiastic and found that their MGB GT test car possessed an appeal ‘ besides those of tradition and its much-vaunted period charm – it is cheap to buy and run and is surprisingly comfortable for two people.’
41 years later Peter finds that KEW can still keep up with modern traffic – and more. 'The overdrive does make a real difference, and most other drivers are impressed to see the acceleration and performance,' he says. It is true that early rubber bumper cars suffered from handling issues, but in 1977 they gained a rear antiroll bar to compensate for the increased ride height. As a result, Peter finds that his MGB feels much the same to drive as his old MkIII Roadster did.
I reckon that the story of the MGB LE is one that shows Leyland at its best and worst – a great car trapped in corporate politics. Keith Adams points out on the website www. aronline.
co.uk that Michael Edwardes later stated that his one main regret while running BL was to underestimate totally the strength of feeling associated with MG. Of course, the end of Abingdon did not denote the end of the marque, as in 1982 Austin- Rover unveiled the MG Metro, but the Limited Edition MGB certainly represented the end of decades of tradition, one that would not be revived until 1992 with the RV8.
Perhaps the Cobb MG is best described as a multi-faceted classic. Its external trappings may date from the late 1970s (especially that upholstery), but its personality hails from a time of ‘Press Button “A” caller’ and black & white films starring Sidney James. The advertisement for the Limited Edition proclaimed: ‘ A rare and final edition of the most loved, most famous sports car that has ever been built.’ In Peter’s words the B’s essential appeal lies in the 'roariness' of the engine, the manual gears and the sound of the exhaust, while he adds that it also tends to bring back great memories of your youth.
Above all, KEW is a car where many an owner still feels the need to don a flat cap, club blazer and a gallon of Brylcreem before taking the wheel. That combination of a very early 1960s driving position and the familiar sound of the 1.8-litre B-series engine can often result in a pleasant sense of dissonance. The surrounding traffic may be 21st century Home Counties, but one half expects to hear the BBC Light Programme on the doormounted speakers. There also remains the feeling that a black Wolseley 6/110 will materialise in the rear view mirror at any moment with its gong poised to clang at any attempt at doing the ton along the A4. Or is that just me...?