Emerging Classic
It was derided for its styling, but under the Ford Scorpio’s skin is a great car.
Nobody would give the Mk2 Ford Scorpio a second glance nowadays, for in this vulgar age brutally ugly cars are everywhere. But in the 1990s, good looks were as intrinsic a part of a car’s proposition as its performance and equipment. From 1985 to 1994 Ford’s Granada Scorpio – which replaced the legendary Granada as its large car offering – was a fairly clean-limbed machine in hatchback, saloon and estate form. It looked like exactly what it was: a scaled-up, slightly porky take on the Sierra.
Nobody quite knows what Ford’s design team were thinking when they penned the wholesale facelift of this fine vehicle to create the Scorpio’s second generation. The result, however, was what many described as quite the most unpleasant automotive visage seen on the European market for years. The motoring press swooped savagely, deriding loquaciously its bug- eye headlamps, slack grin of a front grille, its fat, Americanised rump and the woefully uncoordinated aesthetic soup in between.
In the furore, nobody seemed to notice that under this unfortunate skin was a pretty well-built and competent large saloon car, dynamically more than a match for its direct competitor, Vauxhall’s perfectly fine Omega. Even fewer caught on to the high-performance variant’s motor: the 2.9-litre Scorpio was powered by the legendary Cosworth.
27 years on, the Scorpio is fervently admired by a fan base which celebrates its distinctive looks as well as its comfortable ride, competent chassis and the stealth rocket capabilities of the 200bhp Cosworth. The Scorpio also represents the end of an era for Ford. By the time it was canned in 1998, the automotive giant was busy forming its Premier Autos Group by the simple expedient of buying Volvo and Jaguar, combining them with Lincoln and Mercury, then adding Aston Martin and eventually Land
Rover to the mix. The first four of these marques all excelled at making big cars which sold well in various segments and markets around the world, so Ford simply didn’t bother competing any more with its own blue oval badge in an area that was increasingly driven by aspiration.
Partly because the market for large cars was turning its back on blue- collar brands, and partly because it was so excruciatingly ugly, the Scorpio sold in relatively small numbers over its short production life. Consequently it is now a rare car, and surviving examples are generally looked after well – its time as a classic has come.
Owners are enthusiastic about the Scorpio because in many ways it is a typical Ford product: fairly well-made, pretty reliable, handles nicely and comes with quite enough equipment to make life comfortable. It has a genuinely pleasant and very roomy cabin, and as its fans point out, you can’t see how it looks from the driving seat...
A variety of engine options were available, starting with a barely-sufficient 133bhp, 2.0-litre, 8-valve four- cylinder unit. A 16-valve version of this had a little more punch, but the Scorpio is a large, 1500kg car. Many fans agree that the best combination of performance and economy comes from the 2.3-litre, 16-valve unit – 144bhp and 149lb.ft of torque endow it with a 0- 60 time of under 10 seconds and a top speed of 130mph, while it returns around 35mpg on average.
A rare option was a 2.5-litre turbo diesel. Take-up of this was limited, basically because it was noisy, unrefined and little better on fuel than the 2.3 petrol. Equally rare is the 147bhp, 12-valve 2.9 V6, largely because of the jewel in the Scorpio’s crown, the 2.9-litre, 24-valve V6 that Cosworth Engineering created from Ford’s ancient Cologne V6. That used twin 12-valve heads, four cams and a variable-length induction system to great effect, 204bhp, 207lb. ft of torque and a willingness to be caned at the red line turning the Scorpio into something of a weapon. A 0- 60 sprint of 8.5 seconds and plentiful mid-range punch continues to bring smiles to owners a quarter of a century later. It also rates as one of the smoothest Ford powerplants of all time. As if to underline this, V6- engined Scorpios were only available with a fourspeed automatic gearbox. This car is worth owning for the engine alone. Sadly, many have bought it for the engine alone – extracting the motor to insert into a more established classic Ford, then dragging the resulting Scorpio corpse to a scrapyard.
The keynote Scorpio experience is comfort. Its cabin is a symphony of plastic curves and billowing leather upholstery. Admittedly, the trim pack’s impression of French-polished burr walnut appears very much to be plastic apeing timber, but it looks perfectly fine, exactly what one expects of the last luxury Ford. Three trim specifications were available: Executive, Ghia and Ultima. The
latter adds climate control, the pillowlike electrically- operated leather seats and useful stuff like an auto-dimming mirror and cruise control to the available facilities. All Scorpios are wellequipped, however – this is not a utilitarian car.
The Scorpio’s suspension is not revolutionary, but like many Ford platforms, it does a fine job. McPherson struts at the front and rear trailing arms endow this big car with predictable, fairly incisive and safe handling. Ride is smooth and the car’s bulk is disguised well. An unforgettable weekend in Lincolnshire years ago with my ex-motorbike racer friend Richard at the tiller taught me that a borrowed Scorpio can be made to cross country at a psychotically rapid rate if pushed, but this is far from the style of motoring Ford had in mind for the model. At the other end of the experiential scale, the Scorpio makes a fine hearse. It also makes a very capacious estate car, although the saloon was itself noted for its generous luggage room.
In the current weird economic climate, the values of classic and near- classic cars are climbing fast. The Scorpio might be an old, funny-looking Ford, but it is something of an icon. Savvy – or optimistic – dealers are already trying to push prices of tidy Cosworth Ultima models towards the £7000 mark. Opportunistic sellers at the lower end of the scale are trying to get £1500 for borderline scrap examples on the strength of that epic engine’s appeal. Somewhere in the middle of these two extremes, a patient and careful buyer can find thoroughly pleasant, well-loved cars. Being large, comfortable vehicles, most Scorpios have a relatively stress-free life. Unless they become ropey and get hauled off to a banger racing track, that is.
However, there is no denying that this Ford has moved away from the bottom of its price curve. What remains in the marketplace are largely sound, viable examples. A period of careful searching could put you in the exceptionally plush driving seat of Ford’s last Deluxe motor, a very comfortable place from which to watch its value go up. This is the end of the Cossie line, a machine from a time before the hectic world of ST and RS Fords really got into its stride. If you relish a unique combination of squishy seats, mechanical refinement and the potential for an occasional bit of good, clean, oafish fun, the Scorpio could be the motor for you.
Under this unfortunate skin was a pretty well-built and competent large car