THE ICONS THAT NEVER WERE

Lauded at the time (including often by us) these cars never quite nailed the icon thing. We’d better explain ourselves

SOME OF YOU ARE GOING TO BE UNHAPPY WITH the following 900 words, but there are times when the elephants in the room have to be dealt with. So here goes.

Ford Puma. The original, not today’s crossover (and excluding the Racing Puma). Penned by the expert hand of Ian Callum, there is no denying the Puma’s looks remain as fresh today as they did on debut in 1997. Its Yamaha-finished engine adds a touch of the exotic and we should remember that its arrival coincided with the hot hatch market reeling from the ‘twocking’ epidemic of the early ’90s, which meant Ford’s coupe offered a welcome alternative for those willing to pay for their performance car rather than steal it.

Yet the Puma hasn’t stood the test of time. Its appeal waned as quickly as it ignited, and it became an almost forgotten car as quickly as it had become a dynamic hero. When discussions turn to cheap driver’s cars today, truth is the first-generation Ka holds more appeal.

Now, not one but two V10-engined Germans on a list of cars that should be icons but aren’t? How much lockdown gin had we consumed when we composed this list?

Surely a Lamborghini V10 stuffed into the nose of an Audi saloon car is ultimate icon material, is it not? Not when the V10 in question is a shadow of the engine that was fitted to the Italian supercars, no.

It’s rare for cars that under-achieved when they were new to become tomorrow’s icons, and the S6 V10 is no exception. Its engine isn’t as demonic as that found in the Gallardo of the time, and with 429bhp tasked with pushing 1920kg around, it was more an exec express than a red-blooded supersaloon. With all 225kg of V10 positioned ahead of the front axle line, this was a nose-led Audi performance car of old.

Ultimately the S6 V10’s biggest issue was the V8-engined RS4 also available at the time and the twin-turbo RS6 that arrived soon after. And, of course, the fact that BMW had done the whole V10 supersaloon thing so much better.

That said, Munich’s most famous carmaker didn’t enjoy a 100 per cent hit-rate with its Formula-1-linked-v10. In the M5 – saloon and Touring – the engine’s thirst and the clunky gearbox were glossed over, yet in the M6 they just made for a flawed super-coupe that lacked the kudos of its M5 siblings. The M6 also had to square up to the 911 Turbo of the day, which was only ever going to end one way.

Spot a V10-engined M5 for sale, or parked up in town, and many of us look wistfully and start on the man maths. See an identically engined M6 and chances are you’ll walk on by and not give it a second look.

The same can’t be said of VW’S third-generation Scirocco, primarily because you’ll probably want to stop and wonder just what VW was thinking. On paper the rationale stacked up. Take the Mk5 Golf platform, add a Walter de Silva and Marc Lichte-designed body and offer the same engines available in the Golf GTI and R models. On the road, the Mk3 Scirocco fell some way short of its promise.

It may have managed to match its hot hatch cousins in the performance stakes, but it didn’t offer anything above and beyond that, suffering from the VW malaise of it not being prepared to go that extra mile to create something a little more bespoke or a genuine alternative to the car on which it was based. It’s not a car you’d make a sacrifice for to own. So while the Mk5 Golf GTI is a fully signed up member of the Icons Club, the Mk3 Scirocco isn’t.

That there are two Fords in this list says as much about the power of the company’s marketing machine as it does about the shortcomings of the cars themselves, the second being the Mk3 Focus RS. Ouch, that’s going to cause a few mugs to be thrown at Dunton.

This third-generation Focus RS promised much and delivered on pretty much all of it. The 2.3-litre four-pot doesn’t want for power or torque (345bhp and 347lb ft respectively) and what it lacks in smoothness and sophistication of delivery it makes up for with a furious performance punch once the boost arrives from 4000rpm. In its day it felt a little bit old-school compared to the seamless delivery of its rivals, but it gave the Focus its character.

And no, it’s six-speed manual gearbox wasn’t the slickest, but the ratios were perfectly matched to the Ecoboost engine’s outputs, so all good there. So, too, the GKN fourwheel-drive system, upon which Ford spent a considerable sum and which allowed a drift mode to be selected, thus giving the Focus a genuine edge over its rivals.

So good, so far. The Mk3’s problem – then as now – is that its operating window to wow you is letterbox-narrow. Across those dream roads that yump, dip, crest and buck, where sightlines are clear and traffic non-existent, it’s a weapon. Surefooted, with instant reactions, it becomes an addictive driving experience. But denied such perfect conditions it lacks the magic and the desirability that makes you want to drive it for the sake of it. It should have been Ford’s GR Yaris moment, but sadly it wasn’t.

Clockwise, from top left: Audi S6's V10 engine wasn't the Gallardo unit we'd imagined; Mk3 Scirocco was just a Mk5 Golf in a frock; third-gen Focus RS shone only in fleeting moments; Puma's appeal faded quickly, and E63-gen M6 was never as cool as its saloon sibling

‘SURELY A LAMBO V10 IN THE NOSE OF AN AUDI SALOON IS ICON MATERIAL’