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Romancing the Road
Part 3
By Marc K. Stengel
JUNE 12, 2000:
Faced with the excruciating prospect of choosing "the best" sports
roadster among Porsche's new Boxster S, Honda's S2000, and Audi's TT
Roadster, it's tempting to throw up one's hands and simply let the Fates
decide.
There can be no wrong answer if you're a true driving
enthusiast--and perhaps it's more fun to learn what the gods have in store
for you after all. But it turns out there are very different traits and
features of these cars that will make a significant difference to some
people. In this third and final serving of roadster ragout, what follows is
a consideration of the relative advantages and disadvantages of driving
each car
22000 Porsche Boxster S
Driving a Porsche on a regular basis can be hard work, both
socially and technically. What a relief, then, to slide behind the wheel of
this new-for-2000 Boxster S and discover...pleasure without the pressure.
Yes, all decked out in chromium "Speed Yellow," the car drew its requisite
gazes; but I didn't feel them. I was distracted by the Boxster's
supportive, instantly comfortable leathery bucket seats; perfect
heel-and-toe pedal placements; and convenient layout of the critical
steering-wheel-to-gear-shifter axis.
Even dedicated un-sporting types, however, will appreciate the
Boxster's charitable concessions to the real world. Thanks to a mid-engine
layout, there are two "trunklets," fore and aft, that can absorb 9.1 cu.
ft. of reasonably bulky cargo. Neither of the other two roadsters can
swallow this hard; and although all three offer virtually no spare room in
the cockpit, there's more "psychic space" in the Boxster by far, compared
with Audi's TT or Honda's S2000.
There is, however, no dodging the fact that this so-called "entry-level"
Porsche outprices its two rivals by about $20,000 in each case. (In
fairness, it should be said that a "standard" 2000 Boxster costs $8,500
less than its amped-up sibling, the "S" version.) Psychologically, then,
it's a bit of a letdown to note that the cleverly folding power top
incorporates a plastic rear window instead of a glass one. More purist
Porschemanes are also on record disparaging the Boxster front end's
too-close resemblance to the patriarch of the clan, the 911. As I see it,
however, this only poses a problem for those who shell out $70-grand-plus
for a presumptive ne plus ultra. For the Boxster S buyer there is, instead,
the satisfaction of spending wisely--albeit well--on a car whose serious
credentials don't in the least obscure a grinning personality.
2000 Honda S2000
I had expected least of all to develop such a crush for Honda's
demure, little S2000. My expectations were confirmed when I first
encountered all the switchgear, door handles, and knobs I might have found
in an Accord or Civic. No wonder it bears the least expensive price tag of
the three roadsters reviewed here, at just under $32,500. In light of this
Spartan aesthetic, moreover, the power roof seems an odd extravagance while
the plastic rear window seems perfectly appropriate in a down-market sort
of way. The high center console, moreover, presents an unbreachable
bulkhead between driver and passenger, and it means gear-shifting with a
prone right arm.
My entire basis of reference disappeared once the top was snugged into
its coffer behind the seats. Key in ignition...no start. Wha...? A little
red button beckoned from its position on the dash. "Push here," it cajoled.
And when I did, my entire world of expectations in a sporting automobile
changed. There are no frills in the S2000, because a stripped-down
street-fighter doesn't want or need the baggage.
The solid billet of aluminum that serves as a shifter knob
click-click-clicks through its six forward speeds almost like a sequential
stick in modern Formula One. In my fog of euphoria while driving, I
occasionally got a grind going into a very angular second-gear slot, which
I'll attribute to my own impatience. I'm reading about others' similar
experiences, however, and they're not quite as charitable to let Honda's
gearbox engineers off the hook.
So will I recommend this car unconditionally? Sure...but only if you're
5 feet, 6 inches, 135 lbs., middle-age restive, and prone to Walter
Mitty-style self-delusions of automotive grandeur. Nobody else can
comfortably fit this car. Nor will this car fit any lesser ambition.
2001 Audi TT Roadster
Somehow, Audi has managed to produce a successful sports roadster
that stresses style over performance, luxury over efficiency. Not that the
latter qualities don't make a creditable appearance in the TT Roadster.
They do, and the TT is as fun to shift and steer and double-clutch-brake as
both of its nearby rivals. But there's an anti-matter sort of aesthetic
about this odd-looking, different-driving car that defies head-to-head
comparisons.
For one thing, there's a definite sense of humor about the way Audi has
rigged it up. Check out those stainless-steel croquet wickets that serve as
rollover protection for the roadster's occupants. They're, well,
funny-looking, but you can't help but like 'em. Throughout the tidy
interior are all these self-conscious cues reflecting a postmodernist,
industrialist hyperactivity. Alone among the three roadsters here, the
$35,000 TT wears a glass rear window. But the roof is a manual
drop-top--and easy to use at that. (An $800 power top is optional for the
180-HP model, standard for the 225-HP Quattro.)
The TT Roadster is tiny inside but carves a huge swath of attention
while under way. It is the fun-loving choice for uncompetitive souls...who
will be delighted to know what a winner they've hitched their fortunes
to.

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