ANGER MANAGEMENT
MG thought that a ’B with a V8 would be too unruly – but that didn’t prevent Ken Costello from creating his own. We try a survivor for size to find out whether Abingdon missed a trick
There’s something wonderfully rewarding about winding an MGB up to a contented chatter and then letting it whisk you along leafy B-roads en-route to a picturesque canalside pub – but this car doesn’t do that. No, really – it’s much more exciting than that.
You don’t even need to get too close to Richard Fairclough’s beautifully restored 1971 roadster to know that this is the sort of MG that would probably earn itself a restraining order were it left to its own devices. We wouldn’t be at all surprised if it started picking fights with the Pride of Ownership contenders next to it in Hall 3 once the NEC’s doors had been locked and everyone had gone home for the night. You just know from its rumbustious bonnet bulge, chunky Wolfrace alloy wheels and flared rear wheelarches that HJF 909 has a bit of an unruly streak about it.
Certainly Abingdon thought that it would be too mischievous to make into a fully- fledged, factory-backed reality – its engineers had experimented with the idea of an al fresco ’B powered by a Rover 3.5-litre V8, but concluded that the bodyshell wasn’t stiff enough, and focused solely on the GT instead.
But MG’s loss is racer and tuner Ken Costello’s gain, because this car proves that stuffing this 150bhp powerplant into a roadster shell really does work.
There’s a moment of near-shock when you clamber into the ’B’s familiar surroundings, stretch your legs in that long footwell and flick the ignition key. For a split-second it’s unsettling when you expect the throaty hum of a B-series teamed up with a pair of SU carburettors and instead the deep, bassheavy thump of a Detroit-sired V8 batters your eardrums. But the instant you glance down the bonnet dominated by that bulge, you realise that V8 thunder and the nation’s biggest-selling roadsters are curiously comfortable bedfellows.
Getting the Costello up to speed is the really enjoyable bit – flick the chunky gearlever into second, point it at a suitably straight bit of rural backdrop and the bellow from the beast beneath the bonnet as it surges past 3000rpm is utterly addictive. The way it gathers momentum and thunders towards the next bend is noticeably more urgent than it would be in its four-pot sibling, particularly in the mid-range.
If anything it’s even more compelling than Abingdon’s own tin-top MGB GT V8; it’s hard not to get hooked to that car’s Brit muscle car demeanour but in here the decibels, with no coupé bodywork to shield you from what’s happening at the business end, seems so much more immediate and exciting. It’s a soundtrack that seems to wash over the windscreen and envelop you in its baritone rumble – and make you wish that every journey had a lengthy tunnel somewhere enroute.
But it never feels in any way out-of-sorts when you point its chrome-embellished nose into a bend. You might be prepared for it to judder and flex as a roadster shell designed for far less oomph tries to cope with its beefier internal organs, but it actually feels happy and composed – it’s not a package where you’d revel in its delicacy, but it’s easily on a par with its B-series cousins. In fact, when it comes to dealing with the sores and undulations on the asphalt you’d swear that it’s actually slightly better.
So while it looks – and more importantly, sounds – like an MG that’s up to no good, the real charm of this car is just how great a sports car companion it really is. It’ll do everything you ask of it on those country lane outings, but it makes the experience so much more exciting.
The factory MGB GT V8 may be a deeply addictive Abingdon classic – but the Costello Roadster is a better one.