GT7 W108: Suzuki Cappuccino (EA11R) '91

Automaker Suzuki might not look like it has much of a presence in racing games, often being represented by cheap, cheerful, but ultimately unassuming Kei cars like the Alto and Carry. However, the Shizuoka–based brand has had quite the notorious reputation specifically in the Gran Turismo series since its debut in the second game, thanks to the presence of "auto win" cars like the Escudo and GSX-R/4 dominating the single–player campaign and online lobbies respectively. With the Escudo being a nigh–useless joke in GT7 and the GSX-R/4 nowhere to be seen, the 1991 EA11R Cappuccino has assumed and compressed both their roles in a Kei–sized package, essentially embodying everything Suzuki in Gran Turismo 7.

Cappuccino '91 by kerokero2417
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Mini Viper by nao-2884050
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The first things that meets the eye of course, are the unassuming parts of the seemingly whimsical FR convertible: it's tiny Kei car specs. At 63PS (46kW), it's just shy of the self–imposed limit on Kei car max output, and while its 700kg (1,543lbs) kerb mass is incredibly light, we expect that of Kei cars. At 304.76PP stock (v1.59), it's also rated very similarly to its Kei peers like the Honda Beat and even the 6–speed midship S660. So far, so very ho–hum. But should you dare overlook the Cappuccino just because of what its numbers suggest, you might be in for a very rude awakening when it comes time to wake up and smell the coffee.

You see, the monsterous part about the Cappuccino is in how it completely belies and undercuts its own specs and rating numbers to bring absurd performance into classes where it absolutely has no business belonging in. The turbocharged 3–Cylinder of the Cappuccino is set up to give the most buzz in the mid–range, with peak torque of 85.2N·m (62.8lbf · ft) served from as early as 4,000rpm, with peak power following soon after at 6,5. Those might seem reasonable peaks for a normal engine, but the F6A engine in the pre–facelift Capp has its rev limit firmly in sport bike range of 9k! I suspect the reason why Suzuki chose to brew the Cappuccino this way is to give it the most performance possible while remaining under the 64PS limit for Kei cars, giving it unhealthy levels of boost in the low and mid range before sharply toning down the shots when the revs start to factor more into the power equation, resulting in an almost comical level of caffeine crash past 7k. The end result is that the Cappuccino's 63PS feels almost like that of an EV's, with its strong, sustained torque pulling much harder than the 64PS of its naturally aspirated peers that have to rev higher to find their fleeting power. On corner exits at mid revs, the turbo FR would dump even the RMR Beat, and on high–speed tracks, the low drag of the Kei car would even let it humiliate full–sized cars with full–sized power, such as the Demio and Jimny Sierra. The Cappuccino was so busted in fact, that we've had to raise the PP cap of our weekly lobbies from +10PP over the featured car to +40PP, just to find close competition for the Capp!

チキンラーメン　chicken ramen by bunkashiyouze
#japan #suzuki #anime

One might not presume a 63PS FR Kei car to be much trouble to drive even when hustled, but the Capp does demand of its driver to be awake and not take it for granted. Man, if only there was some readily available drink that can help with that, huh? The reason for the slight trickiness of hustling the Cappuccino is that its suspension setup is really rather soft, and worryingly, they seem to have very little travel for said softness, meaning that the car seems to reach the ends of its suspension travel quickly when the driver leans on it in the corners, resulting in a very sudden and unexpected loss of grip when the tyres should be gripping the most in theory. Because of the short spring travel, hitting kerbs when the car is too off–neutral can spill hot coffee all over the track as well. It's in dire need of much firmer dampers than it comes with stock, and luckily, we can easily fix that in GT7.

I'm sure it doesn't fall onto me to break this news to anyone, but the Cappuccino becomes even more of a giant slaying monster when upgraded. Because of the esoteric kinks of GT7's PP system, many of the most important upgrades for a tuner car—such as the custom gearboxes, body rigidity increase, and even Mass Reduction Stage 2 for some reason—actually drops its PP rating of the Cappuccino instead of raising it. Throw the entire parts catalogue of Understeer, GT Auto, and the Zandatsu–ed heart of an FD RX-7 at it, and you end up with a car that would genuinely struggle to break 600PP, yet has lower mass and higher top speed than even an LMP1. For some context as to the kinds of speed one should normally expect of 600PP as of v1.59, the Jaguar XJ220 is rated at 599.59PP completely stock. The Cappuccino, weighing half that and packing even more power on aftermarket suspension, diff, gearbox, and RACING SOFT tyres, undercuts that!

Of course, with its short wheelbase, extremely limited aero and tyres way too narrow, a maxed out Cappuccino is a bloody nightmare to drive. The speeds it can achieve completely overwhelm the tiny tyres, modest aero, and the best brakes that would fit under the 13–inch wheels its owner can downsize to. It completely warped my sense of speed and distance when I drove it. But just like the Escudo of GT2, it's so bloody overpowered that one can drive like dog diarrhea and still reasonably expect to win by quite some margin. At the infamous Tokyo credit grind race, I spun out lap 1 and still lapped the entire field sans Miyazono's Amemiya FD with a one–stop run, hitting 370km/h (230mph) on the home straight. As such, you can also reasonably expect lobby hosts to kick you should you rock up to a PP lobby in a Brappuccino. The EA11R then, is truly the heir to Suzuki and carries on its tradition of terrorising and breaking the game wide apart. It might well be the most traditional part of Gran Turismo 7 bar none.

Racer and I crossed the line on Tuesday's lobby at the exact same time down to the thousandth of a second! Too bad we were fighting for second last instead of the win!

GT7 W107: Ferrari 308 GTB '75

It's no secret that I am really not a fan of Ferrari, as for over the last five years of me writing for Car of the Week, I haven't sampled a single car from the marque—road or race—that I've found to be even remotely tolerable to drive. The Ferrari 308 GTB '75 however, is perhaps the Ferrari with the best chance of winning me over, simply because it exists within a narrow performance bracket that I enjoy the most: lightweight sports cars that are fast enough to get into trouble, yet aren't so powerful that they dominate the experience and dull the handling. Cars around this performance level sit at around 475–500PP, populated by all–time greats like the 901 Carrera 2.7, E30 M3 SE, S2000, and GR86. A tiny RMR sports car with a songstress of a NA V8 engine, four wheel disc brakes, and a 5–speed stick shift in this category? Sounds absolutely salivating a prospect to me, even if it bears the usual stench of manure that comes with the prancing horse logo.

Magnum P.I by Beellzabozo
#magnum #308gts #magnumpi

Of course, being one of the oldest cars in the short list of examples I just gave, the 308 GTB on its bias ply Comfort Medium tyres is by far the most difficult car to drive among that esteemed company, especially when one takes into consideration that, unlike the vast majority of RMR cars, the GTB has a square tyre setup: identically sized 205/70VR14 rubber serve as horseshoes at all four corners. The suspension is much too soft for hard driving, and its brakes do feel a bit wanting even at this modest performance level. To justify its factory–fresh 474.85PP (v1.58) that lets it dance with the aforementioned cars then, the GTB has utterly bonkers straight line acceleration that would let it keep pace with much younger sports cars like the 993 RS CS and E46 M3 as long as the roads don't twist or meander. So far, so expected then: here's a Ferrari that quotes its completely useless dry mass stat and has way too much power for its suspension, brakes, and tyres to handle.

And yet, I'd be lying if I said I didn't have fun racing against my peers on Saturday, even if they for the most part nope–d out of the GTB and into easier and faster machinery. The 308 may be an extremely demanding car to drive, but that's not at all to say that it's unreasonable or unfair. Give it what it asks for—the driver's deepest respect and their undivided attention—and it richly rewards in a deeply engaging, playful drive, one so engrossing that, when I really got into the groove of it during free practice, I had completely forgotten that I had needed to start the race as the lobby host! As barbaric as it is to say, there's a deeply satisfying joy when an extremely difficult car finally clicks in my head, and I sail past my peers fumbling their cars facing the wrong direction on the track. It makes me feel like a kid who has figured out the trick to a puzzle before anybody else, and the cruel inner kid in me will always get smug about that.

Said trick to the puzzle is Countersteering Assist, which I've set to Strong for every tarmac race on Saturday. CSA does dull the initial turn–in of the car quite severely, but the benefit of CSA is that it allows the 308 GTB to drive as I had described in the previous paragraph: like a moody, vindictive, demanding, and sometimes rewarding old Italian classic car that we petrolheads as a whole are so weirdly tolerant of and smitten by. Without CSA, the 308 GTB is COMPLETELY UNDRIVABLE. On corner exits, it behaves as if its dry–sump V8 spits burning oil onto its toilet roll rear tyres the moment there's any lateral g on power; it just snaps instantly without warning or recourse, with roll and yaw movements so severe that the car is simply beyond saving most of the time. The ironic thing about the GTB is that, as noted by Jay, it actually drives really pleasantly on dirt, so much so that I find it perfectly happy on loose surfaces without CSA.

I want to preface what I'm about to write by making clear that this is pure speculation on my part, but this disparity in road and dirt driving brings to my mind a phenomenom brought up by Steve Marvin when he was being interviewed by evo about the Phase 1 Clio V6: lateral force–induced toe out. Upon loading up the rear tyres, the force of the outer rear wheel would bend the suspension and throw off the wheel alignment, resulting in catastrophic instability. Maybe the reason why the GTB was so nice on dirt was because the tyres weren't gripping the road hard enough to really bend the suspension that much. Unfortunately, that snappy oversteer on power seems hard–baked into the car in GT7; I've tried rudimentary fixes such as tinkering with aftermarket suspensions, differentials, and stickier tyres, all to no avail. It NEEDS CSA to simply be a tricky car to drive. Without it, the 308 is just Going To sBinalla, and as such, is a Guaranteed Total Beater, and even someone who detests the brand as much as me finds that just a bit of a pity.

UPDATE 1.59: The latest update seems to have calmed down the 308 quite a fair bit, to the point where CSA is just purely a bane. It still exhibits that weird sudden snapping on power, but it seems to happen much later and somewhat slower now, translating to a half–second faster lap time around Laguna Seca. As it stands in v1.59, the 308 GTB is the first Ferrari I find tolerable... barely.

GT7 W106: Jaguar XJ220 '92

The headline trait of the Jaguar XJ220 is undoubtedly the fact that it once held the record for the highest top speed achieved in a production car, but after having sampled it in GT7, I'd argue that the 217mph (349km/h) stat completely misses the point—or dare I even say, utterly misleading—when it comes to the character and driving experience of the XJ220.

Silk Cut XJ220 by KN1GHT_SHADE17
#jaguar #silkcut #lemans

No, I don't mean to call into question the legitimacy of a run achieved by a straight piped XJ220; what I'm saying is that the top speed of the Jaguar XJ220 is completely irrelevant to the Jaguar XJ220, because when I got behind the wheel of the car in GT7, it really didn't feel like an edgy, balls to the wall hyper performance that wants to make hell on earth of everyone's lives trying to prove itself. Quite the opposite in fact: it was a very sedate, calming, chill car that somehow robbed me of all desire to push it hard. Part of it of course, is just in how the majestic cat handles the corners. Despite being a large, heavy RMR car with enough power to set a top speed record, the Jag is surprisingly sedate in the corners, feeling extremely neutral and drama free to maneuver through the variety of bends present in the game, be they the wide and smooth roads of Fuji, the treacherous, bumpy, hilly and narrow twists of Bathrust, or the entirely fictional flights of fancy like Lago Maggiore. Power oversteer is only really a concern in first gear, which, despite being tall enough to be good for 109km/h (68mph), should see no use on a hot lap given the ample low range torque afforded by the turbocharged V6. The car defaults to gradual understeer when pushed too hard. Sure, the Jag doesn't drive as if there's catnip at every apex, but at the same time, it's not like it's seeking out the kitty litter at every turn, either. It's just a no drama, no surprises driving experience. Coupled with the extremely tall gearing and the abundance of torque on offer from any rev range, the car really deincentivises shifting as well. It's just a car that seemingly doesn't want its own driver to pay it much heed, giving the whole package such a hypnotic ability to lull me into a state of relaxation when behind the wheel. So much so in fact, that it felt downright wrong to race it hard in our weekly lobbies.

But it's not just the gearing and torque that deincentivises shifting: the XJ220 has perhaps the worst turbo lag in the game this side of the Escudo Pikes Peak car. The extremely neutral and stable handling along with the tall gears do mask what really should've been a glaring flaw somewhat, but there's nothing the big cat can do to hide the acres of its kingdom it surrenders to other cars on the straights every time the driver has to lift for an upshift, and this deficit in acceleration performance is only exacerbated by its extremely tall gearing in bid to reach its 220mph target. Even at Monza "No" Chicane with the close quarters slipstream of an F40, I couldn't find a need for 5th gear at all. Despite the cat–like balance of the Jag letting me gain under braking, cornering, and even corner exits, the long gears of the Jag hurts it so much that it surrenders all that advantage and more come any straight that involves an upshift.

It's nigh unheard of in a record setting car, but the Jaguar XJ220 has really surprised me in the week I've spent with it. It's capable of incredible things, and the fact that such high performance is packaged in such an understated and relaxing experience is even more of a testament to the feat of engineering that Project XJ220 represents. But to do any of its amazing things, it needs time. It doesn't have razor sharp turn in. Its turbo takes a moment to spool with every shift. It makes its driver wait in anticipation and appreciate the majestic roar of the journey as it takes its time climbing through its tall gears. To such a car, its top speed is even more irrelevant than in most other cars, because not only do I not want to bring it there, it'd take a dedicated top speed test facility to really find that 217mph. To simplify an XJ220 down to just big numbers for a short–lived marketing stunt feels to me as though a fictional character was forced to do something out of character for promotional purposes, in so doing weakening the integrity of the narrative they're trying to push. That is to say, now that the car has outgrown its need for marketing drivel, I think that the XJ220 is an incredible classic car hampered by its big boost and tall gearing in bid to hit a useless top speed target, and would be better off if it were just allowed to be itself, and I like it enough that I might just do that. But if someone wants to write a big plot twist for the XJ220, there's always the option to dump the XJR-9's V12 engine into it to suddenly make sense of its tall gears and Group C–esque interior.

Engine–Swapping an XJ220:

Engine swaps in Gran Turismo 7 tend to be pretty Frankenstein things: after all, a car is asked to handle power it was never engineered to handle in the first place, and even with a dedicated tuner, sometimes the game simply doesn't give players the tools to really rein in the irreversible swap. It's why I rarely bother with the horrifically expensive procedure, unless I have a very specific need for the combination, i.e. to swap a racecar engine with much better fuel efficiency into a road car. The XJ220 just so happens to fit that bill, and you know what they say about curiosity. It might have killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.

When I swapped in the NA V12 from the XJR-9 Group C racecar into the XJ220 however, the big cat surprised me yet again, simply because it is such a "plug and play" engine swap, starkly contrasting the freakshows that I had come to expect from heart transplants. The car remains incredibly stable and just a tad understeer prone, but it puts down power well even on the default Sports Hard tyres. Even the stock 5–speed gearbox feels an incredibly natural match for the increased power; after all, the XJR-9 from which this engine is originally from also only had five forward gears. The only slight complaints I had with the combo was its slight propensity towards understeer, its lack of braking power for the speeds it's now capable of, and I'd really like some downforce at these speeds, the latter two of which are easy fixes in GT7.

Honestly, if you haven't already, I urge you to give the swap a try, expensive as it may be. It might just be the big final puzzle piece that makes the picture more than the sum of its pieces.