Car of the Week Reviews—Honda NSX Gr.3

The garage door lowered behind me in a deliberately menacing pace, making all the precise creaking and squealing noises to unnerve even the bravest of men in the ensuing darkness—not that I'd know anything about that.

My name is Lee. In my off time, I whine and moan about performance cars on the internet behind the veil of anonymity and the nigh infallible security of my home country, Singapore. The problem now is that I'm not in Singapore, and the near 130kg frame of mine is hardly covert in person even if I weren't in this bright orange hazmat suit hooked up to a 20kg oxygen tank. I've been a little ill in the past few days, which is the only reason why I've had the luxury of taking a break from my real job to focus on my side hustle for the first time in a while. Yes, I'm Asian, and unfortunately this is just how we all are. And no, before you ask, I usually write my car reviews in just my underwear on the cooler days in tropical Singapore, not adorned in hazmat suits within point blank range of several bazookas here in the Honda Collection Hall in Twin Ring Motegi.

"Ready!" I hear a man shout in rather funky Japanese. For a while, nothing happened—the only sounds I could hear are my own irregular breaths and embarrassingly rapid heartbeats. The room has been enshrouded in complete darkness after the garage door has choked all light out of the room. Unsure as if the man was addressing me, I voice out: "are you tal-"

Out of nowhere, an explosive force knocked me clean into the air! The impact of which sought and found my body right down to my every bone with equal ferocity, the pain of which at least was indicative that I had yet to be dismembered by the explosion. As a moaning, limp heap on the ground though, I can't say it made much of a difference either way.

"Disinfection Complete!", I hear the same voice shout before the lights flicked on. My blurry vision desperately tried to focus on my new world, cloaked in foaming yellow liquid. It might be semi erotic if consent had been sought beforehand, or if, you know, I knew who did this to me.

"It's been a while", came another voice. It was Esther, my editor.

"ESTHER WHAT THE HELL", I bellowed before immediately regretting using what little breath I could take in to shout. A bout of coughing fit followed, though I'm certain this one didn't have anything to do with me being ill.

"I'm doing fine, thank you", she replies in her unwavering business tone, as though I were the only one who went off script in a play I had no idea I was playing a part in. I suppose that's her way of saying, "I don't care about you or your life threatening predicament, we have work to do". Urgh, Asians. And we wonder why we have problems with declining birth rates in so many of our countries.

"I trust your flight went well", she continued nonchalant to my plight and suffering. "As per our discussion in emails, this is Andrew, the new employee here at Car of the Week. Andrew, Lee. Lee, Andrew."

Wiping the liquid from the visor of my suit, I can barely make out a tall, Caucasian man with a HUGE, dripping rod in his arms and an even bigger grin on his gnarly face. "San Diego Fire Department at your service! I hear you like the taste of piss, eh?!"

San Diego?! Piss? What? Aren't we in Twin Ring- WHAT?!

"Aw come on, get up. It's only Tiger Beer! That stuff's couldn't knock out Obelisk's weakest rabbits!"

"Ahh... yeah... Yard... We've met... on the start line of Suzuka- OOF!", I mumble as I heaved and ho-ed my deadweight carcass off the ground, only to slip on the sea of a floor and fall again, the BOINK of the oxygen tanks behind me only helping highlight my misadventures further. I really have become a comic book character, haven't I? "He's the guy that revs out a diesel Demio. Can't say I know him very well."

"And he's the guy that passes out after 2 large Sakes."

"After you said that it was just water!"

"It was! ...basically!"

A sigh. It was Esther, who wasn't very bemused with our bickering. "Is this how men communicate?"

"Basically"

"No"

"We have a car to test. Get to it. Chaperone Andrew, show him the ropes, and maybe teach him how to write an email properly." With her signal, the firetruck adorned with Tiger Beer livery reversed away to reveal the awaiting Honda. Could it be a fourth generation Fit Hybrid after I fell in love with the third gen while testing it on the public roads of Singapore? Perhaps Honda is going to do me a solid and provide us with the Modulo S660 that I've been chomping at the bits to test after having reviewed the base car? Or would they pass my newly bought 2002 NSX Type R around the crew, some of whom can be very crude and uncultured, to test and review as a way of flipping me off for bargaining the price with them?

Oh you have got to be kidding me.

It is an NSX... well, technically speaking, anyway. The Gr.3 variant of the third generation "nsx", the NC1.

"Ahh yes, finally, a racing car! None of that slow commuter A to B crap!", exclaimed Andrew, visibly beaming with excitement even through his flame retardant suit.

"Are we not done with this turd yet?", I protest. I've written off the 2017 base car and even its fire breathing GT500 counterpart, going as far as to say that the NC1 "nsx"es are always destined to play second fiddle to the GT-R because of how terrible they are. And so the thought of reviewing yet another isn't exactly setting my pants on fire. Even Tiger Beer would do a better job of that... not that I'd want to prove that right now drenched head to toe in it, even in the presence of a fireman.

"An open mind, Lee, please. Don't cloud the judgment of Andrew here, who isn't as biased as you."

"Have you read his Demio review?!"

"Of course. That's my job as an editor. He came around in the end."

"How much arm twisting did you have to do?"

"Less than the three bones it usually takes you."

Sweet Baby Buddha this woman...

"Well, get to it. Load the cars up on the trucks and prepare to leave for Narita Airport in an hour. First race is at Maggiore, Italy."

"Wait, what about MY NSX?! The actually good one?!"

"Payment is being delayed I'm afraid. The Honda reps say March 4th is the earliest you'll get to see it—and that's if the stars align."

Urgh. Just my luck. I fly all the way here to see my newest baby, but instead I get blasted from head to toe by a ruffian and now have to leave saddled with a "nsx" that is neither my own nor a fraction as good. I sigh as I turned to face Andrew. "I hope you brought enough Quiksteel for us all. This car is uncontrollable. And if not then, well... maybe Esmerelda could use a friend after all this while."

"Quiksteel, incense sticks, Red Horse beer, and my buddy's flatbed are all ready to go!"

"No drinking on the job!", Esther and I explode in unison, inciting a resigned head toss from Andrew. Maybe we will get along after all.

***********************************************

The NC1 "nsx" is perhaps one of the most contentious cars in the modern era, and you probably can already guess my stance on it by now. It was too heavy, too complicated, drove like a pig, looked like a clown, and costs twice that of an R35 GT-R while barely being any faster—and that's if you spend enough time learning its odd at–the–limit quirks and behaviour and get used to them. Of course, a lot of that can be attributed to the onboard computers doing wizardry on the move that can only be understood by the geeks at Acura and no human being, along with the gargantuan mass of the batteries and motors that are needed to facilitate that nonsense. In short, it's way too complicated for its own good, and so one would think that being homologated into a racing category that puts a fixed price on all cars, hovers around 1.3 tonnes, mandates RWD and disallows hybrid systems would be the magic bullet of simplicity that transforms the NC1 from embarrassing to exciting.

In theory, it does somewhat. I mean, there's no fixing the look of the car unless you're a plastic surgeon, but everything else is actually quite peachy! The 3.5L Twin Turbo V6, despite having lost no less than three electric motors, still has a very flat torque curve, and it's not exactly laggy, either. The power loss of losing all three electric motors? 2HP. Pumping out an ample 568HP (424kW) before BoP takes its 3% cut, it really does make one wonder what exactly the hell the electric motors bring to the table in terms of spirited driving. Having lost the weighty batteries, motors, and sound deadening of the road car, one can finally hear the V6 of the "nsx" truly sing without autotune, and I daresay that it sounds the best among Japan's big three supercars!

As for cornering, well... that's where the other shoe of the NC1 drops. I mean, sure, it slices into corners well, and it's stable... up to a point. The NC1 has a very odd issue much like the 4C Gr.3 wherein the car doesn't very linearly approach its limits: it feels stable and reassuring up to maybe about nine tenths, and then the last tenth of its handling envelope goes by SO stupidly quickly, transforming the car from stable to slippery in split seconds in the worst of times. I theorise that the usual culprit of the car's default wheel alignment is at fault here for making the car lose grip in a hurry, and the stiff diff in the NC1 very quickly makes the other wheel follow along as well. This makes the NC1 a very nervous, unpredictable, and explosively moody car along rumble strips, and is horrifically allergic to having even half a driven tyre off the asphalt. It's a car that I have never felt comfortable bringing near its limits, which, needless to say, makes wheel to wheel racing with this very snappy and unpredictable NC1 more chaotic than most demolition derbies.

It's not even fast, either. One may posit that me and the NC1 just don't share the same wavelength, and that's a fair argument. I therefore thought to try racing other MR Gr.3 cars against the NC1, and Baron suggested to me to try the Renault Sport R.S. 01 GT3 and the Audi R8 LMS, supposedly because I'd learn to love the NC1 if I drove those cars. I did just that, and lo and behold, I grew to despise the NC1 even more, because driving other tail happy MR cars just made me realise just how utterly garbage the "Honda" is.

It took just half a lap of getting a feel for the Renault around Suzuka for me to uncharacteristically assert during race day, "I will slay you all in the Renault". Helps that Vic wasn't in attendance this week, heh. During the Renault's first race at Dragon Trail: Seaside, I quickly dispatched the field of NC1s, leaving only my countryman and fellow weeb, RX8, to catch, some four seconds up the road, with only three and a half laps to close it. An impossible feat for two drivers of roughly equal skill, as our driver ratings would suggest. Not to mention, he had three previous races in the NC1 to get to know it, and I was driving my Renault with only 5km on the odometer.

You... don't need me to spell out what happened, do you?

I took the lead from him on Turn 1 of lap 4, and never once looked back. At the last corner of the race, I had opened up just about a whole second to the 2D mobile. It looked like a dominant victory for me until I kinda mucked up the last corner, losing the car on the kerb on the corner exit of the last corner of the last lap and almost wound up in the pits, or even the pit divider. I managed to save it, but limped across the line in a close 2nd between Rick and RX8. I know I screwed up and it makes my argument sound more flimsy but just bear with me for a while, okay?!

Then I tried the R8 LMS, which, truth be told, is one of my personal favourites when it comes to Gr.3 cars. At Red Bull Ring, I just about started last on the grid, being boxed in by the slow af NC1s off the line. I went on to win the race.

Again, I want to stress: I don't have THAT much of a skill gap between my peers. Can something as simple as "wavelength" and "chemistry" account for such a ridiculous pace difference? Or is the NC1 simply irredeemable garbage? The truth most likely lies somewhere in between the two, but I'd wager it leans much more towards the odious latter.

Yes, of course, both the Renault and the Audi are very tail happy cars. Moreso than the NC1 in fact. That's why Baron thought that I'd learn to appreciate the NC1 after driving them. So what is it that makes the R.S. 01 GT3 and R8 LMS so good, while the NC1 revels in its awfulness? The difference I find is simply that the Renault and Audi are simply more linear in how they approach their limits. They're more communicative. That makes wrecks easier to avoid and anticipate, and gives me more confidence in bringing them up to their limits. Their looseness can actually help rotate the car into the apex of a corner, whereas the snappy NC1 will make you break a limb if you break its grip because of how snappy and unrecoverable it is. The other MR cars felt fun and at home even when sliding, whereas the NC1 is deeply upset by it. That I find is the main difference that makes the NC1 so awful to drive. I mean, it could also just be slow in a straight line as well, but at this point, highlighting more flaws of the NC1 would be beating a perfectly dead, completely decomposed, and happily reincarnated masochist of a horse at this point.

On the other end of the slidey spectrum, you have the Peugeot RCZ Gr.3, which we tested back in Week 158, when I fell in love with its delightful neutrality and unshakable stability. Even when it similarly dislikes sliding, the RCZ also nonchalantly whooped the NC1 around Red Bull Ring when driven by Baron! The lesson here is simple: if you want stability, make sure you aren't easily upset. If you want to be slidey, embrace it! Build up to it linearly! Let the slide help you! Don't try to straddle between the two extremes! It's almost like the road car trying to be a luxury car and a sports car at the same time; it simply doesn't work! Or like trying to be an all new supercar boasting innovation while bringing nothing new to the table, and then having to use a resurrected name and nostalgic paint offerings as a crutch to sell more units.

It is complete, utter garbage that no one should ever have to bother with. The road car and racecar both.

***********************************************

"No Esther, no matter how many bones you break this time, I am not changing my mind on the NC1", I greet her with as soon as her tiny frame emerged through the doorway.

"Hm? No, your bones are quite important, boss. I'd need you healthy to sign my paychecks", came her nonchalant reply as she set her files down on her table and pulled a chair for herself across me.

I sigh. For that moment, I felt incredibly stupid. "I guess all the legal prowess can't get you answers from beyond the grave", I spout, laid back against the hard restaurant chair facing the ceiling.

"We'll keep trying, but in the meantime, it does look like you'll be taking over if no one else steps up."

"I don't think I'm right for the job, Esther".

We've had this conversation before, but I've ran out of protests despite not coming any closer to acceptance. She knows this, and just keeps her silence, maybe waiting for something new, maybe thinking of another solution, I don't know.

"Who even reads this crap? These awkward exchanges. Our work lives. It's all so... cheesy. Stupid. Such a waste of time. It's got nothing to do with the cars."

"Nat, and now Andrew reads them. Heck, you're the most animated I've seen you when you read their stories and reviews."

"Car of the Week is bigger than me, Esther. I don't want to dominate it. I feel so... unworthy, you know? What about the vets, like Vic and Nismo? I just walk in here one day and I fall ass backwards into becoming the organiser of the world's most expensive car magazine? Does that look right to you?"

"We all have to take advantage of what life gives us, Lee. You have hardly any lemons in your hands. We all fall backwards into roles we didn't think we'd do. A lot of us normal folk don't end up with careers relevant to our field of study. I'm someone that wound up as an editor in a car magazine despite knowing nothing about cars. I'm having to learn about cars, about breaking bones, about being a chaperone, a lot of times from you, a lot of times because of you."

"It just... isn't me. I'm not funny. I'm not social. I'd die if I have to come up with these exaggerative Tiger Beer scenarios every week for the hell of it. I'm not even that good behind the wheel. I've never had anyone critique my writing before! How do I know if I really am that good, or if it's simply because no one else is writing?!"

Her reply was silence this time.

"I feel like I'm... having to play pretend. Like I'm having to wear a name someone else built before me. Having to straddle between many extremes. And that... doesn't... work."

"Would you rather see this end, then?"

"NO!"

"Then try. For us all, please."

I sigh. The meal we had was probably the most silent one in recorded human history, with neither of us speaking a word, highlighting the frustrated clinks and clangs of the crockery against the plate. After submitting my draft to Esther in person, we walked over to my Honda Fit to ferry the editor without a driving licence home.

"Should I sit in the back?", she asks after opening the passenger side door.

"What? Why- OH! One moment...", I mutter before remembering my cargo, rushing over to her side and damn near breaking my back lifting the 4.5kg brick out of my passenger seat.

"What is that?", she asks curiously, unable to retain her strict work demeanor.

"A receipt... urgh!", I reply as I toss the thing into the rear of the car. It was so heavy that it bounced more than once on the soft leather seat upon impact.

"A... receipt?", she asks, even more puzzled than before I answered.

"Look, I don't get it either, okay? But it's a storage device containing a receipt for my thousand SGD deposit for my 2002 NSX-R. Honda must've ran out of paper in the pandemic or something, I dunno."

She gives one last look at the curious oddity before deciding to hell with it, and sat down in the front.

"Just call it an investment into COTW", I said with a smile as I joined her in the front, buckling up.

Car of the Week Reviews—Toyota S-FR '15

Boasting a 1.5L NA engine up front mated to a 6 speed stick sending power to the rear of a tiny car weighing around a tonne, which is distributed evenly front to rear, and flaunting a removable top, you'd be forgiven if you had already started packing up your saddles, reins, and diapers to do some Jinba–Ittaiing in yet another Mazda Roadster in two short weeks. But instead, we have a horrifically awkward Hatsune Miku and Toyota on the confocal dish due for examination this week. Specifically, the 2015 S-FR that, unlike the Roadster, never made it to production.

S-FR ミク仕様 by Mickey-Duck livery link

...or do we have a Toyota under our very noses? Upon closer inspection under the microscope, there is more that an S-FR shares in common with the omnipresent Roadster that extend beyond the spec sheets. To quote again from Japanese Nostalgic Car, "the windshield frames, door cutlines, and the doors on the NC Miata and the S-FR are nearly identical", along with many other "hard points" in car design, lending credence to the theory that the Toyota S-FR is in fact, a stretched, outgoing Mazda Roadster underneath. It would seem that before the flirty Toyota got into bed with BMW and Subaru, it had a short lived fling with Mazda once!

Regardless of your stance on platform sharing, it truly is a shame that the S-FR never made it to production, despite already having three brake lamps, turn signals, reverse lights, mirrors, a fuel door, license plate holders, stats accounted for, an overdrive 6th gear, generous ground clearance, and normally sized tyres and wheels, simply because the S-FR's absence means that we have less variety in the spartan sports car market to choose from. And gosh knows we could use a break from the cold, soulless EVs that weigh about the same as the glaciers they're purportedly saving.

That holds doubly true if you've ever had the chance to sample the S-FR from within its fully rendered and functional interior, because the S-FR drives like a Roadster on steroids despite having barely any more power: at 133HP (99kW), that's only 5HP more than the 1.5L engined ND Roadsters that is exclusive to its domestic market. The sprightliness of the S-FR is all down to its stiffened setup in comparison to the ND—the S-FR's springs are set at 1.5Hz front and rear as opposed to the family car like 1.3 of the ND, for starters. In addition to this, the S-FR also packs a strictly prohibitive locking differential as well under its boot floor. Just those two simple changes, and "Jinba–Ittai" feeling I lamented I could not find in the ND Roadster came banging on my door instead in the S-FR. The end result is as spectacular as you can imagine, lending itself again and again to closely fought races up and down the grid, regardless of tracks. I said in the lobby during race day and I'll say it again here: "I feel like I could race this thing a hundred times and not get bored of it". It's THAT good.

So, is it a safe, foregone conclusion that Mazda saw this yellow devil and promptly corresponded the hue of their undergarments to match, pulling out of Toyota–chan early and running away butt naked into the night? While that may very well be the case, I find that Mazda–kun had grossly overreacted if that were how things played out. Despite being so fervently similar to each other on the spec sheet, the S-FR and Roadster I find are starkly different machines behind the wheel with their corresponding strengths and weaknesses, that can justify their own existences even in the presence of the other. The S-FR is the more buttoned down, serious business car, one that gives drivers anything they ask for the moment they ask for it with surgical precision and without drama, almost like a racecar. It is something that removes the "car" aspects of the equation entirely to let drivers focus solely on battling their opponents instead of also having to worry about the uncooperativeness of their steed. I do not exaggerate when I say that the S-FR has less vices and presents less problems than many full fledged racecars we've tested here on Car Of The Week, such as... oh I dunno, last week for example? Don't let its meager power figure fool you—the S-FR drives more like a race car than most built to spec racecars here in Gran Turismo.

To this end, the S-FR was incredibly stable to drive, perhaps almost too much so; the FR car drove with so little mischief that it feels almost unnatural and uncanny, like a newborn baby that isn't crying. Had I not looked at the specs of the thing prior driving it, I would've sworn it was a very well sorted FF or even AWD! You can't get the rear end to helpfully slide out a bit to get the front of the car to bite an apex, much less play with it. Whatever the situation, it's always the front tyres that are the limiting factor in any turn. So much for a car with "FR" in its name, right?! Without the outside influence of grass, jumps, or other competitors bumping into you, it is quite simply impossible to break the S-FR's rear end loose without the handbrake, and I never once applied even a hint of opposite lock in the S-FR outside of these extreme situations that I shouldn't have been in in the first place if I were good enough a driver. Even then, it was just a quick flash of opposite lock before the car got back to being planted and straight again. It is just a car that simply does NOT want to derail.

The Roadster on the other hand, is the complete opposite of that: soft, loose, lairy, and incessantly playful. It'd break out sideways even if you didn't mean any drama if you're too rough with the car. It's a challenge in itself just to keep the car pointed roughly where it's heading! Where the S-FR makes you work to get it rotated into the apex of a corner, the Roadster is challenging you instead to keep it from swinging out every time the steering wheel is turned.

While on paper it may sound like the S-FR is the much better car, in reality I find it really rather depends on what your driving style is, and most importantly, what sort of track you're running on that will determine which car is best. On a low speed, nefariously narrow and torturously twisty track such as Tsukuba or Horse Thief Mile, the Roadster's tail happiness allows it to carry that much more speed into a corner and clip apexes later than the S-FR, allowing the lighter Mazda to out–dance the Toyota at these tracks, and not even by a small margin. On wider, straighter tracks however, the surefootedness and more focused nature of the S-FR is sure to overpower the Roadster. Laguna Seca I think is the tipping point where both cars are of roughly equal footing, for reference. Whatever the track though, make no mistake that the Roadster will always be a lot more challenging and dangerous a drive than the S-FR, which makes the Toyota the better beginner's car, albeit one that I think wouldn't teach drivers anything at all about the tendencies of an RWD car, how to perceive their nuances, and the appropriate reaction to the crises they bring. Like I said, both have their own corresponding niches and weaknesses, almost like Yin and Yang. Realising that, it becomes all the more a shame to know that the S-FR will almost certainly never see production, because I feel that they complement each other so well!

As for the styling of the car, I'm conflicted. I don't think I'll ever get over the dorky pig stare of the front grille and headlights. The bulges and humps on the bonnet look weird, and the rear end of the car looks awkward and lacking in something at the same time to me for reasons I can't quite put a finger on. I keep wanting its third brake lamp to be on the boot lid to break up the wide, unused surface! However, I really, really love the side profile view of the car; I love the airy feeling with a copious amount of glass, and I especially love how the rear quarter glass panel meets and connects the rear glass and door windows. I love all the quirky hexagons that adorn the car, from the grille to its interior, and the sole colour offered on the concept car, an unnamed shade of yellow, goes so well with the high contrast yellow and red instrument display, that would make someone at Maranello write up a C&D using horse manure with incredible furor. Again, the lack of a full production model hurts the car so much, because I would love to see these yellow accents and styling cues correspond to match other exterior colours of the car. Presently, these little details are stuck as yellow, which makes painting the car incredibly awkward and painful for me personally. I think this car would look phenomenal in a light, metallic shade of sky blue. Heck, I even painted one in Soul Red Premium Metallic, just to bring it closer to the 2014 "NC.5" Roadster that I also very much need in the game.

While the S-FR currently seems eternally doomed to obscurity and "what–ifs", I find that a part of its character has perhaps lived on in the GR86, being a more track focused competitor to the Roadster. Perhaps Toyota was right in offering us variety in the sense that, instead of yet another cramped convertible sports car, we could instead have something roomier for our larger Western friends to fit in, and also slightly more powerful to compensate. But just because the S-FR never managed to compete with the Roadster in sales, make absolutely no mistake that it is well and truly a serious Roadster competitor as far as driving feel is concerned, perhaps the most legitimate one in the quarter of a century since the latter's inception. It adds a lemon flavoured twist to the enduring Roadster recipe, and I have a feeling that many would prefer it to the Mazda if they just had the chance to sample this delicious car for themselves. It's so rare that I get completely blindsided by a sleeper of a car that I hadn't even taken a look at in the barren car roster of Gran Turismo Sport, and the S-FR blew me away completely! ...why are you still reading this? Go drive one for yourself if you haven't already!

Car of the Week Reviews—Bugatti Veyron Gr.4

Mazda has always been the oddball kid in the field of automobile manufacturers, so imagine how balls to the wall insane and dysfunctional you'd have to be to out–weird them. And yet somehow, Bugatti seems to have understeered face first into succeeding at just that, in what I can only hope is an unintentional, but undeniably embarrassing nonetheless display.

What, you thought I was going to review the ND Roadster? Joke's on you! You know what we call that in the industry? JEBAITED! HA!

So what's bonkers Bugatti gone and done? Well, someone at VAG wanted to make a Bugatti racecar. Now, that all sounds fine, dandy, and perhaps even a little ho–hum. Eyebrows start to raise however, when one realises that they wanted to enter said racecar in Gr.4. Now, Gr.4 is this game's rough equivalent of real life's GT4 category, populated by cars driven by nice guys that ask before hugging on dates, can only drink beer when diluted with water, reach home before eight, and signal before changing lanes even when nobody is around, such as the such as the Renault Mégane and the Mazda Atenza. To attempt to circumcise, neuter, castrate, and then slap a carbon fibre chasity belt onto the quad–turbocharged, 8L W16 engine of the 1,888kg (4,162lbs) Veyron then, is an asinine an ask as trying to fit Gran Turismo 7 onto a home console that debuted nearly ten years ago, meek spec wise even by the standards of the time of its debut. In other words, it's utterly imp-

Oh, um... yeah. I guess... yeah, the- there you have it, I uh... guess? (How in the actual bloody HELL did... oh nevermind...)

So uh... *hastily flips through a clipboard's worth of papers* the Gr.4 Veyron... makes... 433HP! That's... *discreetly fumbles an abacus behind my back* 323kW, which is still stupendously powerful for Gr.4, but you'd certainly hope for at least that when helming the single heaviest car in its class, and by quite some margin too. The second most powerful and heaviest car in Gr.4, the GT-R, weighs in at a whopping 157 kilos (347lbs) lighter than the Veyron, and that's even when the former is saddled with BoP! Needless to say, the Veyron makes the brick missile that is the GT-R feel like an 86 in comparison, and an 86 a 172.

It's almost like VAG knew their car will be a straight line beast and specifically set it up to be just that and nothing else, because there appears to be little to no effort made to get the car to turn corners at all—All that visually differentiates the road car from the racecar are a pair of tow hooks, a set of kill and extinguisher switches, racing slick tyres, dropped ride height, a gutted interior, and unpainted carbon fibre for its body. Here's the really cool part: because the Veyron Gr.4 borrows colour schemes from the Bugatti VGT, the blue Veyron Gr.4 actually comes with the VGT's dark blue carbon fibre! The other colour variants of the Veyron all get regular black carbon, making the blue car the undisputed best one to get, and I am so ridiculously thankful for the Daily Workout Gods for gifting me my only Veyron Gr.4 in blue. It's just such a shame that the carbon weaves are lost when painting the car, and the two–tone body isn't separated into different categories in the livery editor, making selectively recolouring the light blue parts of the car a very difficult task.

As you are probably already shocked by from looking at the photo above, the built to spec Veyron Gr.4 doesn't even come with its own FIA spec fuel inlet, instead retaining the road car's fuel cap! Good luck refueling it every other lap in a race! So lacking and ostensibly low effort is the Gr.4 Veyron that it doesn't even sport any off the shelf splitters, skirts, or a rear wing that is seemingly mandated for all Gr.4 cars, and even the spoiled, pampered child of the fiercely protective Karen, the 458 Gr.4, doesn't escape that trend. The Veyron Gr.4 instead uses the stock car's rear wing in a fixed position, either because Gr.4 has an unspoken rule about active aero, or the chap that was responsible for gutting the interior of the Veyron forgot to leave an opening for the second key that allows the Veyron to activate its "Top Speed" mode... which is just as well, seeing that the 7 speed gearbox of the racecar has similarly lost its record setting mojo, topping out at a drag limited top speed of 277km/h (172mph).

Predictably, all that makes for a car that requires more effort to turn than some celestial bodies. Despite having its 8L W16 engine prominently on display aft the cockpit, the Veyron feels so incredibly front heavy and lethargic when negotiating bends that even Vipers with their own 8L engines up front are more effortless to turn. Its... stability, is such that rotating the car into the apex of a corner feels as laborious and time consuming a task as trying handbrake turn a cargo ship into a parallel lot under its own power. The undisclosed centre torque split is so unnecessarily front biased that the Veyron power understeers like an FF hatch on corner exits. Under any circumstance or situation, it is simply impossible to get the rear tyres of the Veyron to even squeal without the aid of parking brakes, grass, or someone T–Boning you in another Veyron. Don't ask me how I found that out.

Also, while I'm complaining, the car's flywheel of all things feels incredibly suspect. Revs bounce and stutter like crazy even on mirror smooth surfaces, let alone when you shift the car or when you go over rumble strips. I know it probably isn't a big deal for most, but I find it irritating as the low engine note isn't very distinct through its rev range, and so I'm more reliant on the HUD more in the Veyron than I am in most cars, especially because I've little to no experience with it prior this week.

Still, the torque curve in the car does trivialise shift points somewhat, being more akin to a torque table than a curve. One might think that this artificially limited torque curve is a direct result of more than halving the power output of the Veyron to shoehorn it into Gr.4, but very surprisingly, it's a direct copy and paste from that of the road car's, making me wonder if the record setting road car was itself held back by other hardware issues.

Speaking of hardware, the Gr.4 Veyron has the single coolest rear camera in all of Gr.4, and perhaps of the entire car list of Gran Turismo Sport! It looks to have been lifted as–is from the Bugatti VGT, and it is the closest thing cockpit view users will have to ever seeing their opponents when they're in front in this game. Why don't all fictional cars made for Gran Turismo come with a rear view camera as easy to use as the Bugattis? Won't anyone think of the poor wheel users in the game that haven't analog sticks to look around their cars? It looks ultra fancy and badass with a distance gauge on the left, and even a time difference gauge on the right, until you actually drive the car and realise that the two gauges are just for show and don't adjust with speed, making them completely useless aside from looking cool.

The brakes on the Veyron Gr.4 on the other hand, are excellent! The Veyron Gr.4 race car may weigh well over many road cars saddled with air con and airbags, but it never feels it in a straight line, be it when you're accelerating or, shockingly, braking. I personally find that the car stops the best at full front bias, -5, but I've had to pare it back to -3 to strike a balance between stopping and attempting to turn.

Okay, so it understeers. So it's fast in a straight line. So it has a super cool rear camera, really stunning blue carbon shell, and no racing spec fuel inlet. But do any of those really make a Veyron Gr.4 so weird? No, what makes a Veyron Gr.4 the weirdest car in Gr.4 isn't even on the car itself—it's the fact that someone at VAG wanted to make A Bugatti racecar, and therein lies the problem: the Veyron Gr.4 doesn't have a Gr.3 compatriot that together would have made Bugatti an eligible manufacturer to be represented in the game's FIA Manufacturers' races. After all, aren't these fictional Gr.3 and Gr.4 cars built for those FIA races? I mean, they went through all that (little) effort to make a Gr.4 car, why not a Gr.3? That's like going through the effort of buying a cup of ice cream, adding the chocolate sprinkles on top, and then not bothering with a scoop of ice cream. Or like making a carbon fibre Veyron that still weighs more than many passenger cars and then not giving it any aero parts. Whatever the reasons may have been, the Veyron Gr.4 stands out as the single weirdest Gr.4 car simply because it's the only Gr.4 car that can't represent its manufacturer in an FIA race. I can only imagine some VAG executive had a stroke when they learned that Gr.3 doesn't allow for AWD, and canned the Bugatti VGT Gr.3 after they recovered.

The Veyron Gr.4 may be a curious oddball of a car that might be fun to take a look at for its sheer oddity, but there isn't any enjoyment to be gained from the car after you're done gawking at the blue carbon fibre of its body, which... might take a while, b-but...

......

sweet baby blue Buddha...

...but if you want a car that has strong acceleration in Gr.4, the GT-R has most of the speed of the Veyron and much better cornering feel, and it's not even that good. They Veyron Gr.4 is, at the end of the day, just like the distance and time delta gauges on its rear camera: it's supremely cool, but completely useless. It's so awful that it might as well not exist like its Gr.3 cousin.

(I'm sorry Baron I know you really love this car.)

Car of the Week Reviews—Mazda Roadster S (ND) '15

Remember when I said that I had the perfect car in mind to close out 2021 with? The car I had in mind was the fourth generation Mazda Roadster, the ND. You see, the Chief Designer of the original NA Roadster, Tanaka Shunji, has sadly passed away on the 12th of December last year, at the age of 75. Now, I'm not going to be the sort of person that pretends to know the guy before the news of their passing, but it still strikes me as a sad loss nonetheless. For what it's worth, this week here at our humble club is dedicated to you, Tanaka–sama.

At a glance, there isn't much else left to be said for the Mazda Roadster that isn't already common knowledge. Having changed so little in its recipe since its inception in 1989, anyone who's ever been around cars know what the instant classic is, what it represents, the things it can make a driver feel, and of course, the things it can't. Low powered, lightweight, often cramped, simplistic, front engine, rear wheel drive, with some of the best ergonomics in the industry with regards to steering feel, stick shift feel, and seating position in the world that would make even the most cynical and jaded of automotive journalists chuckle during a drive. Its low cost of entry, mechanical simplicity, impeccable balance, and the resulting delightful neutrality all make the Roadster a common entry point into more spirited driving, from sanctioned cup car events, insane aftermarket builds, and even the stupid idiot with more money and unfounded confidence than experience in a RWD platform. Trust me, I know this fact far better than I'd like. It's the reason why it was nigh impossible for a time to book a test drive of a Mazda Roadster here in Singapore, and I still have the right side mirror of an NC that punched a hole into the fence of a compound I was "working" security at, which had to be patched up with concertina wire... in the still pouring rain... by me and a few others after our shift.

I know the opening two paragraphs of this review have been ultra bummers. But I think it's an important reminder that, in spite of its cute and unassuming looks, the barebones Roadster is certainly capable of a belying amount of bite, and certainly will not hesitate to lash out if mistreated. It IS a car renowned for being a great car to learn driving techniques in, after all, so one can't really expect it to be nearly as proactive in nannying a dumb driver and hiding their mistakes from them as something more mainstream and expensive, can it? That I think is part of what makes a Roadster such a darling of a car to drive in a spirited manner, and also such an excruciating rarity in today's market, but that sadly means that such stories of stupid wrecks from first timers is often associated with the car.

Completely unrelated person in the photo, don't mind her.

Not that I consider myself new or inexperienced in the context of the game, but even I became much more acquainted with the bite of the ND Roadster S during race day... as did Vic, whom I transformed from "Victorious" to "Victimised" when I crashed into him in our race at Miyabi. So then, I've learned that the ND Roadster has an indiscriminating appetite for murder, regardless of experience. But what is it that makes it so... hungry for souls? (Yes I'm struggling to write this piece in case you couldn't already tell from the delay in publishing it and the whack analogies.)

Well, the single lightest trim of the ND Roadster, the "S", can't even be optioned with a locking differential. Depending on if you're a glass half full or empty person, you can argue that that's for mass savings to allow the S to be the only trim of the popular fourth generation sports car to weigh in back under the magic tonne for the first time since the original NA generation, or simply being cheap. Whatever the case, the open differential of the Roadster S very quickly becomes apparent when the softly sprung car is being driven hard, struggling to cleanly put down even the meager 128HP (95.4kW) that it packs if the car is too off neutral, easily costing momentum out of a corner while forcing drivers to partially lift, lest they risk the entire car snapping once the spinning inside wheel hooks up like a secondary flywheel you've little control over.

Mazda may flaunt "Jinba–Ittai", "Horse and Rider as One", as its tagline, and perhaps no other car in the company's lineup is poised to embody that sentiment as much as its flagship Roadster, the only RWD model the company offers until the rumours of a new Inline 6 RWD Atenza materialise. However, when I drive the ND Roadster in the game, my experience couldn't be much more at odds with that saying. Instead of the car going and behaving exactly as I intuit it, I find that it's disgustingly soft as a sports car—no matter how crappy a set of tyres I fit on it, the car unabashedly pitches, rolls, and yaws as though stretching its suspension for a warm up. The "S" in "Roadster S" could almost stand for "sloppy". I mean, here, take a look at the car as I accidentally slid it on Turn 10 of Laguna Seca on its default Sport Hard tyres.

You can't tell me this amount of body movement looks at all healthy or conducive for anything. Even with what should be ample ground clearance of 140mm (5.51in), the car is almost bottoming out, and I'm almost certain that the wheels should be scraping the flared arches by now had such been simulated in GTS.

The front springs in particular are so disgustingly flimsy that it makes the RWD car with less power than an FF Honda Fit Hybrid understeer more than said FF Honda Fit Hybrid, and that's not even the most atrocious part! If you fit downgraded Comfort tyres in attempt to make the softly sprung car feel more natural to drive, weight takes so long to slosh over the front tyres when you slam the brakes for a corner that it makes the ABS freak the hell out and think the car has way less grip than it will eventually have. Seriously, you've to brake so early for corners because the 990kg (2,183lbs) Roadster stops so badly, one would think an intern at Mazda neglected to print the first digit in its mass figure—its stopping distances are more akin to a car weighing 1,990kg wearing its Yokohama ADVAN Sport V105 195/50R16 tyres. Turn off ABS, and not only does the car stop much better, but the tyres and steering wheel become more communicative simply because the front tyres are actually being, you know, utilised. I know this issue isn't very prominent on the Sport Hard tyres the car comes with by default, but I'm almost certain the car isn't supposed to come with such grippy tyres, since GTS does have a habit of defaulting every production car with them, causing many of them to feel overly grippy and thrown for a loop. Back in earlier Gran Turismo titles, Roadsters have always come default with Comfort tyres, which makes you work harder for lap times and highlight the car's natural tendencies more.

Whichever tyre compound you fit on the Roadster, grippy or grotesque, the Roadster Sloppy is so soft that the rear end of the car becomes as eager and integral to the turning experience as the front end, which incidentally is the only end of the car that the steering wheel is connected to, in case that needed spelling out. The rear end of the car will peek and swing out as though you're Scandi Flicking it if you're too rough with your steering wheel, setting it up for a drift that the car hasn't the power or the locking differential to hold. The rear end of the car sways so much under hard lateral loads that, if you were to, say, attempt to use every millimetre of a track in a pylon course, you'd be smacking the pylons with the rear fenders of the car more often than the front, which is like... oh I don't know. I don't even have a funny quip for that; it's just tragic.

That in itself would've made the car dangerous enough, but couple that with the embarrassing single–point tyre contact physics of this "Real Driving Simulator", and you have in your hands and under your feet an express, non stop bathtub to hell, via rumble strips, uneven road surfaces, or just good old fashioned grass, the last of which caught me out at Miyabi when I pulled the car to the left for "Turn" 2, a flat out left kink. I was using every millimetre of the track on the rightmost edge when I turned too hard, causing the rear end to sway into the grass, causing the crash.

So in conclusion, it's soft and imprecise like a slinky. It's prone to snap oversteering. It understeers like hell on corner entry and exit. It's absurdly dangerous to drive quickly on any tyre compound. Am I dreaming? Or am I going insane?

I think that I might have been spoiled silly by all the faster, louder cars in the game. It's hard not to when the game forces GT500s, LMP1s, or at the very least, a pedestrian 911 GT3 RS on you every now and then. Standards are stupidly high in a digital fantasy that is this game and the life it lends us. Everything is loud, quick, precise, stiff, grippy, hardcore, and built with a larger budget. But what those cars never really offer, or at least highlight to me as much, is the natural tendencies of a chassis suspended above four wheels, and the blistering purity of it. Yes, it pitches, rolls, and yaws all the time, like an incessant kid begging for your attention, never letting you feel it safe to leave them unattended for even a short time. That's just what a car is naturally wont to do. Yes, you'll need to wring out the naturally aspirated 1.5L SkyActiv engine to get it to do anything, which means you'll need to be very busy with the shortly geared 6 speed manual that's the only gearbox offered on the S. That's just what engines are naturally like without turbos and hybrids mucking them up, and there's no better way to control the coupling of gears and flywheels than with a mechanical 6 speed. Do you want to shift it quickly? Do you want the ride to be comfortable instead? Eco mode? Race mode? Launch mode? Drift mode? It's all done with three pedals and a stick rather than through menus with buttons, allowing you to mix and match any mode to any degree that suits any situation on the fly, all without the car ever letting your attention waver from the act of driving it. This, to me, is what driving is about. You pay attention to the car and you control the car, nothing else! To spec a Roadster with an automatic gearbox then, would be akin to listening to a clean version of an Eminem song. Yes, it can still be enjoyable, but such a core, defining part of the experience is taken away to create what is objectively an inferior product! It just feels like such an insult to both the engineers and the customers in the name of sales!

More than anything, a Roadster is a stark reminder of where I stand in the skill department. I mean, yes, of course I get my fat behind served to me on a silver platter by Vic every week, but none of it ever feels as crushing and demoralising as when he does it in a Roadster. There are always excuses, like "eh I suck at driving high downforce cars", "the car doesn't suit my driving style", "I don't understand the stupid way the car is set up" "this gimmicky feature that can't be turned off is stupid and I wish it wasn't here screwing with me", "I feel more with a wheel and I thus worry more when driving", "EU copies of the game are erroneously coded to be faster than Asian and American copies of the game", and so on. With something as blisteringly simplistic as a Roadster, and with how much emphasis it puts on raw driving skills and precision in turn, seeing Vic pull a half second gap on me in one corner is C R U S H I N G . It makes me angry at myself. It makes me frustrated. It makes me frantically question where I went wrong in that last corner. Did I brake too early? Should I slide the car more or less? Did I use the right gear? What sort of a monster line is he drawing that I'm not? It draws out a competitive side of me I don't much like because it does me no good. It makes me beat myself up. As much as I complain about and critique cars, I'm worse on people, especially myself. It's why writing car reviews is a cathartic release for me, because I get to piss and moan about an unfeeling machine with objective facts and don't have to fear hurting anyone... aside from myself when I get too competitive, hence why I quit Sport Mode.

But, that resurgence of my competitive side did at least allow me to race wheel to wheel with Vic for a victory, which is something I felt I hadn't managed to do as much as I'd like to, as much as I know I can. And this week with the Roadster, I didn't even need Bathurst or a wildcard car to do it!

Yes, the Roadster will make you hemorrhage time with even the tiniest of mistakes, and seeing someone pull on you in equal machinery because of that is heart wrenching. But I definitely found myself in a sort of zone, a trance of some kind, when I got familiar with its tendencies at its limits and used to accommodating for its weaknesses and pitfalls in my driving, allowing me to push it hard. And in that state, having wheel to wheel fights and inappropriately rubbing the coating of my gorgeous Soul Red Premium Metallic paint on my friends in a hard fought, but fair and respectful battle was simply exhilarating without ever feeling overwhelming. In no other car did watching the time gap delta slowly come down to the car in front feel as deserving and fulfilling as it did in the ND. And not once did I ever feel like the car was ever going to betray me, or lash out in an unexpected fashion once I got into its groove. It is an incredible joy to do battle in a steed as loyal and fair as the Roadster.

The thing about the Roadster is that you can't treat it as a tool, a means to an end, like you could a racecar. It isn't going to simply give you what you want the moment you ask for it with no drama. It's a dance partner. One you have to respect, get to know, and accommodate. It may be a cheap, barebones car. It may not vector torque for you, it might not remind you to keep both hands on the wheel, and it certainly won't monitor your body's physical condition to detect when you're drowsy and need a break from driving. But, in their place, the Roadster has the single best safety feature to ever be equipped to a car: the driver's respect and fear. It can never be taken for granted. It will make you more attentive a driver, and I would go as far as to argue that, over time, it will make you a faster and safer driver as well. How much you manage to take away from your time in a Roadster then, I think largely depends on how much you're willing to put into it. It is an excellent mirror that forces you to take a long, hard, and perhaps uncomfortable look at yourself, and what you see when that happens is entirely up to you as a driver, as a person.

Spirit Racing Bio Concept Demio by SpacedustDaddy Livery Link

Global MX-5 Cup by percevan30 Livery Link

And it's why my time with the ND Roadster this week has been a very bittersweet one. It's... complex. I thought I'd come in raving about how the ND Roadster is among the best cars on sale today, how Mazda is the single best car company, how I'll sprout useless trivia and facts, and hyperbole like how I'd be willing to fight anyone who disagrees. But instead, I've come to respect and fear the Roadster a lot more instead, and direct critique towards myself rather than at the car for shortcomings. Is it a good car? Would I recommend it? I can't tell. If an FD RX-7 can be likened to having a strong expresso shot, then the Roadster is preferring one's coffee without milk, sugar, or ice. Maybe even without water. It can be stupidly intense. It's not for everybody. Those looking for an outright track toy would be better served in an 86 or a... oh I dunno, a 911 GT3. But for those who can glean value from its very niche and harsh offerings, there is nothing else that can offer what the Roadster can without the sugarcoating of critique, and the resultant clarity of which that is sought after by those select few. Trust me, I never thought I'd be saying that about the car that has a Guinness World Record for being the best selling two seat open top sports car.

To see just how closely the ND Roadster went back to its roots, I drove the genesis of the Roadster, a stock 1989 NA, during race day on Goodwood. It didn't take long at all for me to realise just how little has changed in the quarter of a century that separates those cars! Aside from my very pronounced acceleration deficit, everything that the ND Roadster demanded of me, every single thing it made me avoid doing and encouraged me to do, the NA did as well. It's still freakishly soft. It still demands you rev the crap out of the small, naturally aspirated engine. It similarly doesn't have a locking diff, and it sure as hell wouldn't save you if you muck something up either. It even gets into the exact same troubles in the exact same ways as the ND after all these years! Power understeer? One tyre fires? One wheel into the grass? Off you go! In fact, aside from having one less forward cog and being slower on a straight, the only real difference I can tell between the two cars with regards to how they drive is that the older car is a lot narrower with a shorter wheelbase, which makes maneuvering through tight quarters like "The Chicane" of Goodwood slightly easier. That's it.

Driving both the NA and ND Roadsters, especially after all the supercar and racecar shenanigans week after week, almost feels like reuniting with a high school crush after a long time. I'm shocked by how little she's changed over the years despite us being well into our adulthoods by now, but at the same time, I also can't help but to relish in the opportunity to pare myself back to a simpler time and be a simpler me. Kick up a playful, harmless fuss and have fun at it, who cares? What's the worst that can happen? Despite all that coffee, fangs, and intensity talk earlier, the Roadster has a flipside that draws out a person's inner child when it's not being taken seriously. She's still the same cheerful, fun to be around, pretty girl after all these years. In fact, the only thing about her that's changed is that she's in grown up clothes now, and hot damn does she know how to pull them off! It makes me highly respect and value it for not being swept away by having to impress others and chasing numbers, because I know first hand just how difficult that is, being the odd kid out in school who always just wanted to fit in and belong. Many may complain that the Roadster lacks power, but that blistering confidence in itself, and the joys it can bring to everyone around it, is its own brand of strength in my eyes.

Tanaka Shunji's NA Roadster is painted in his favourite colour, purple, with matching purple leather seats. But, to most eyes in most situations, the purple is so dark that it wouldn't appear as anything other than black. Only when the light hits just right will the purple reveal its true colour, so to speak. Just like a Nou Mask that Tanaka–san cites to have inspired his car design, a non living surface somehow has to convey several different expressions and emotions without ever changing its form, instead relying on different lighting to portray different emotions. Either by design or by sheer coincidence, that is such a strangely apropos way to look at a Roadster as well: to most people in most normal situations, it's just a cheap, cheerful, peppy, and perhaps beautiful car. But when one tries to coax every m/s from the car through a bend, to use every millimetre of the road, and to shave off every millisecond of a stopwatch, that's when a Roadster will show its true colours.

I think a lot of us car enthusiasts prefer the older models of a lineage of cars. The NA NSXes, the A80 Supra, or the front engined Corvettes for example. We scream and write up a storm of drama and expletives to bemoan their loss and to put down their successors, so much so that sometimes I think we forget that there's a car that hasn't changed at all in all the important areas, and has made pronounced strides forward in all the right areas while preserving its identity. It's easy to forget because that car is so easy to take for granted, because it never went away, and hopefully never will. I think it's unfair and unhealthy to not celebrate these small victories we have, and gush about the things that the automotive industry got right, so here's me gushing.

In fact, while I'm at it, I'll even gush about another person! Itou Azusa!

Sorry, the video is only in Japanese with no subtitles at the moment.

Itou-san is an automotive writer and illustrator, who occasionally presents car reviews for the CARPRIME channels. When she started her job as an automotive journalist in 2015, the ND Roadster had just premiered in Japan. Despite never having driven anything out of the ordinary, she decided to take up driving the company's Roadster to learn more about the job and gain some insight and perspective. She wound up liking the car so much that she bought her own ND Roadster—in NR-A spec! Sporting height adjustable Bilstein dampers, larger diameter brake rotors, a reinforced driveshaft, and a limited slip differential all as standard, the NR-A is the pared back, hardcore, motorsport base model made for easy track use, which the roll cage equipped, fanged car of Itou-san clearly sees, wearing the Roadster Endurance's mandated Bridgestone Adrenalin RE004 tyres, swapped out bucket seats, ENDLESS brake calipers, stone chips, and track day inspection stickers on her car's body. That's right: she partakes in endurance races with her own daily! How cool is that?! Here in Singapore it's hard enough to find anyone who drives stick, urgh! Driving the base Roadster, the S, in Gran Turismo Sport and being so disgusted by its softness, I really do wonder if the NR-A with its Bilstein Dampers feels any stiffer on the track.

With the Roadster being such an integral part of her life both personally and professionally, she says that they have become part of her life, and that she'd be utterly lost without her Roadsters, not being able to do her job nor have fun in her off time. She even went as far as to say that if her future husband is against her driving them, she'd probably divorce him! Yet, despite all those harsh statements, she's so cutely embarrassed to be presenting her own car, saying it's impossible to critique the car fairly. Even simple things like saying "the shift from 1st to 2nd feels so good", feels as ridiculous as saying "air and water are delicious!" It's such a given in life that it feels asinine to point out. She then goes on a perhaps too personal ramble about how her car and her interactions with it has become more than woman and machine, to be something more akin to friends, lovers, family, or something else in similar vein.

I feel like I know that feeling of going on way too personal tangents when "reviewing" cars too.

I think I'm in love.