Did MG create the sports car?

Some say Vauxhall did. And there were sports cars amongst the 39 Autocar named as motoring landmarks this week. Usual suspects, Austin 7, Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost, Model T Ford, Jeep, etc but not one MG. Some cars became classics because there weren’t many. MGs were classics even though there were lots. Cecil Kimber’s original recipe was so good – use bits from a cheap production car, polish and refine them, smarten them up, make them a bit faster but not so fast as to be dangerous and they could be sold at a premium. From the humble Morris Garages’ sporty special to the K3 of 1933 raced by Nuvolari, MGs were charismatic. When a team went on a recce in January for the April 1934 Mille Miglia, they were received by the King of Italy, Il Duce Benito Mussolini and Enzo Ferrari manager of the works Alfa Romeos. They finished first and second in class when Britain was still a motor racing backwater

MGs were jazz age cars. They exemplified the suburban idyll, the Wodehousian world of Blandings or Jeeves and Wooster. MG was the sports 2-seater born and bred at Brooklands, made almost within the University of Oxford and trialled on British hills. It may have lacked the glamour and riches of the contemporary Bentley; MG was virtually classless not pretentious. A classic emblem for dashing young men in blazers and Bright Young Things with short skirts and bobbed hair it was picnic sandwiches and Anyone for Tennis?  John Betjeman's subaltern would have whisked Miss Joan Hunter Dunn from Camberley to Brighton or Gretna Green in an MG, never a Hillman.

The MG that wanted to be a Bentley, the 18/80

Seldom fast or expensive and not always Midget, MGs were as much part of the British way of life as summer weekends or romantic novels.

MGs of the 1920s and 1930s lit the spark of sports motoring. In the 1940s RAF pilots climbed out of MGs into Spitfires. In America, heartland of large softly sprung gas-guzzlers, the MG was a nimble sports car raced by amateurs. Autocar should at least have remembered the 1962 MGB, the first open 2-seater to banish scuttle shake. Sports cars used to rattle to pieces before the B gave them backbone. It may be regarded nowadays as over-engineered and yes it was a bit heavy but you could open and close the doors without it sagging. Its stiff monocoque was exemplary.

My MGB - Heritage shell, Twin-cam M16 engine, 5-speed gearbox.

Without the MG we might never have had The Mazda MX-5, which Autocar did include. MGs were the prototype shadowed by Singer, Austin-Healey, Triumph and countless more. MG-Rover collapsed and MG was bought by the Chinese, which pretended to carry on with a sports car like the underrated MGF but the game was up. Despite the bravura even MG clubs and magazines have shown them, China MG’s dull saloons are like British Leyland’s dull badge-engineered MGs. They won’t change the world ever again.

No problem with Autocar’s choice of VW Beetle, BMW 328, Land Rover, Range Rover, Citroen DS, Trabant, Mini, Jaguar E-type, Porsche 911, Audi Quattro, Mazda MX-5, or McLaren F1 but really - Ariel Nomad? Fun and an Autocar favourite but no more of a game-changer than a dune buggy.

My MGA. 1950s masterpiece. What joy it was

Bernie and Kevin

Nobody ever portrayed Bernie better. Kevin Eason, retiring grand prix correspondent of The Times tells us more in 275 exemplary words than tens of thousands written in books about Bernie. In his valedictory column after 18 years Kevin speaks with the wry indulgence of one jack-the-lad for another.

“At the head of this extraordinary travelling circus was the ringmaster, Bernie Ecclestone. The night we first met, he stretched out his left hand for his customary pseudo-royal handshake, looked me in the eye and said: “Ah, so you’re the one writing all that sh**.”

“From that unnerving start, we were to develop as close a relationship as it is possible to have with a multi-billionaire, Duracell-powered ruler of a global sport. We clashed often, but he always took it on the chin and he could disarm me with a rotten joke or an anecdote.

“Ecclestone carries a reputation as a hard man – and he is in business – but he is paternal about his drivers, personally intervening to get Lewis Hamilton out of McLaren and into Mercedes, for example, or playing backgammon with Sebastian Vettel. Even now, he wells up when you ask him about Stuart Lewis-Evans and Jochen Rindt, two drivers he managed. Both were killed on the track.

Kevin Eason

"For all the bravado, Bernie is soft-hearted, giving millions to charity without a fuss. He loves mischief and there is always a twinkle in his eye. When he makes his pronouncements, you have to separate the facts from the wind-up – not always easy.

“In Russia last year, Vladimir Putin sent an emissary to advise on protocol. At the end of the meeting, Bernie asked Putin’s man for an opinion. “We have been asked to stage a new grand prix,” he said. “In Syria. A new circuit in Damascus. What do you think?” Putin’s man was flabbergasted, until he saw a smile crinkling at the side of Bernie’s mouth. No subject is beyond his cheek.”

This is not the Bernie who once said drivers were expendable, like light bulbs; if one goes out you remove him and screw in another. I recall Bernie’s subtle mischievousness from the 1970s. Hockenheim was still new. I watched two self-important reporters complaining that a new grandstand obstructed their view from the press box. Bernie was still fresh in his ringmaster days, viewed with deep suspicion by old-school press men: “I’ll have it moved for next year,” he reassured the pompous parties. “You see, he’s not bad. He listens to us.” Of course the stand was never moved. Anybody with half an eye could see the twinkle in Bernie’s; stupid people never guessed.

“Then”, writes Eason, “there was Ferrari, commanded by Michael Schumacher but steered by the most glamorous figure in Formula One, Luca Cordero di Montezemolo, the aristocratic president and chosen one of Enzo, the founder. Di Montezemolo was charismatic beyond belief, his greeting so warm we might have been related.”

Luca Cordera di Montezemolo

I can vouch for di Montezemolo. I had met Enzo, who compelled you to listen to every word. Luca made you think he was listening to you. He wasn’t, of course and he would forget you at once. Charisma won Ferrari championships; you were coerced into Ferrari. Di Montezemolo put Kevin in a 360 sports car at the Fiorano test track. Inevitably Eason spun and was slow but it secured him into the Ferrari family. Michael Scarlett and I drove Ferraris at Fiorano and we didn’t spin and although no match for the track’s test drivers our lap times weren’t at all bad. Then again the older I get the faster I was.

“Standing in the Monaco tunnel watching the old V10-powered cars screaming by was akin to standing next to a Saturn rocket launch; or at the end of the pit straight in Monza before the Italian Grand Prix where drivers came to halt and went through the start procedure. As the engine rumbled and then screeched to about 16,000rpm, the ground shook and the vibrations rippled through the air and into the chest.

“And then there is the best 15 minutes in sport. I have been to Wembley but never stood on the pitch with Manchester United or Arsenal. I have been to Wimbledon finals but not stood next to Andy Murray on court. But I have been to the Monaco Grand Prix and stood on the grid as the cars arrived, shook Jenson Button’s hand to wish him luck, chatted with Red Bull’s Christian Horner, rubbed shoulders with Roger Federer and met Michael Douglas, the Hollywood star.

I aspired to starting grids.. Guild of Motoring Writers chairman 1948 Tommy Wisdom talks to Ferrari engineer-driver Mike Parkes. Picture Eric Dymock

“To work in Formula One is to join the family; I have probably listened to more words this year from Lewis Hamilton than from my wife - and, boy, can she talk. Reporting Formula One is not a job, it is your life and not just because of the 140 or so nights in hotels and the 120,000 miles in the air. We spend weeks together, we eat together, share our jetlag together, quarrel and make up.

“For 18 years, Formula One was my family as I covered the most irritating, silly, politically incorrect, frustrating, brilliant, wild, thrilling, mad sport on the planet. And now it is over. But thanks to The Times - and Bernie - for the ride of a professional lifetime.

I was in the family, once, too. For about 15 years. Believe me Kevin, when you stop, nothing’s ever quite the same.

Here is one I drove earlier

I must declare an interest in reviewing BMC Competitions Department Secrets by Marcus Chambers, Stuart Turner and Peter Browning (Veloce Publishing £24.99). Were I a contestant on Mastermind, my Specialist subjects would include the BMC Competitions Department 1955-1980. I reported on motor sport, wrote about cars, covered rallies, I even ghost-wrote Paddy Hopkirk’s Autosport column in 1967. (He was cross when editor Gregor Grant inserted “begorrahs” to make it sound Irish.) So, this book covers an era when I knew people including the three authors, Chambers less so than the others, yet it still tells me more than I ever knew back then.

“Secrets” in the title is crucial – this is, literally a revelation.

Some secrets, like how well-funded the operation was from the beginning, were naturally well concealed. Comps’ annual budget of £100,000 (that would be £2.6million now), revealed in a memo of 1954 shows how seriously British Motor Corporation took the impending challenge from Standard-Triumph. Nuffield’s Morris, Wolseley, Riley and MG was now merged with Austin and it needed to create an identity. This was vital inside BMC as well as outside. Directors knew their steadfast Austin and Morris loyalists. It was a problem never really solved, made worse when BMC became British Leyland and Triumph engineers fell out with Rover engineers while Jaguar fretted over its identity.

Marcus Chambers set up BMC Comps department. He had managed HRGs at Le Mans and was a solid professional left over from when motor racing was gentlemanly amateur. He could see the potential in Gerald Palmer’s clever but overweight MG Magnette and lobbied for its betterment. Sadly he never carried the weight to effect much change. The heirarchy demanded success with what had become a dreary range of cars. He persevered with the Austin Westminster.

Stuart Turner’s is probably the best bit. It is certainly the best-written and recalls the wily Geoffrey Healey’s tell-tale rev counter used in works driver selection at Silverstone. When aspirants promised they hadn’t gone over 6000rpm Geoff knew which were telling the truth. Stuart was adept at reading the rule book. “Rallymanship” he called it, and applied regulations strictly yet when it came to homologating cars’ technical specifications took interpretation to the limit.

Turner’s skill, a bit like that of Colin Chapman at Lotus, was that unless rules specifically forbade something it was, by default, allowed. He details the Minis’ disqualification after winning first three places on the 1966 Monte Carlo Rally. The French were convinced the cars had somehow been changed for special tests and excluded them on a lighting technicality. Turner’s explanation: “We were perhaps better prepared than our rivals. I’m not sure other teams put out garden thermometers to check if certain sections of the route froze overnight, or were as careful in practising the stages at rally times to best know what conditions would be like in the middle of the night.”

After he took over from Turner, Peter Browning found the French had not forgotten. And maybe not forgiven. In 1968 when the Minis were once again supreme, he went to great lengths to avoid last-minute exclusion. He failed. Any sense of fairness was quickly abandoned in organisers’ determination to defeat the Minis. Scrutineers scarcely glanced at the winning Porsches. Careful, meticulous strict Browning can scarcely conceal his bitterness. Disappointingly he presided over Comps’ declining years yet scored some notable successes. In one of the first events he accomplished outright victory ofMGBs in the 1966 84-Hour Marathon on the Nürburgring. A legacy of the Marathon de la Route Spa-Sofia-Liege after it had become too dangerous to run on crowded public roads outright victory (it was almost 1-2-3) was a testament to the MGB’s utter reliability but also to Browning’s attention to detail against opposition from Porsche, Alan Mann Cortinas and Ferrari.

Not many books reach the heart of a time when our Minis, MGs and Austin-Healeys were earning Gold Medals like automotive Olympian gamesters. Poor BMC may, by hindsight, be a bad memory of interfering governments, indifferent management and arrogant engineers. But it did produce moments of glory often, notably, against the run of play. Not to mention self-serving organisers.

The more you read this book the better it gets, especially when you discover pictures of a car you road tested. EJB 806C (pictured below)  was the Austin-Healey 3000 Timo Makinen and Paul Easter drove to second place in the 1965 RAC Rally (pictured above). And I drove later.

VOLVO AMAZON at 60

Sixty years of the Volvo Amazon. Here’s what I wrote about it in 1961. Designed by 26 year old Jan Wilsgaard, it came out in September 1956 as Volvo’s second postwar model after the PV444. I was The Glasgow Herald’s Special Correspondent; its real motoring correspondent James Brydone McLaren was kind enough to encourage a writer younger than the Volvo’s designer.

It wasn’t called the Amazon when I borrowed G35 (red with a light grey roof looked dashing in 1961) and photographed it at Craig’s house. Known only as a 122 because a Kreidler Amazone moped got the name first, it was Amazon in Nordic markets. My test car was a 122S, which meant Sport. In 1959 the Volvo three-point seat belt became a standard fitting.

I am not inviting comments on my writing style of 55 years ago. It was OK for The Herald then. It would be nice to lighten it a bit, but I haven’t.

MOTORING TODAY. The Glasgow Herald, Friday December 1 1961  From a SPECIAL CORRESPONDENT                                                                                                                           IN these days of rapid technical advancement it is unusual to find a car of conventional design capable not merely of holding its own in world markets but even providing fierce competition to its apparently more up-to-date rivals. Coming from Sweden, the Volvo 122S B.18 saloon (to give it its full, if somewhat unwieldy, title) could very nearly appear to have a dull specification were it not for the knowledge of that country’s reputation for sound engineering. The student of design may see it as a thoroughly conventional motor car but it represents basic and well-tried principles developed to a very high degree.

Orthodox in layout and styling, the Volvo is best con­sidered first as a four or five- seat saloon of exceptionally robust construction. The quality of body finish and paintwork is visibly better than many of its closest rivals, and even the out­ward finish of its mechanical components is commendable.

High Figure

It has a very smooth four-cylinder engine of 1.78 litres which produces in B.18 form 90 b.h.p., a high figure for a power unit of this size. To pro­vide this output it might be thought that the Volvo engine must be highly stressed, and although it reaches fairly high speeds several design features (including a five-bearing crank­shaft) indicate its capacity for the hard work involved.

The interior is businesslike, if perhaps a little strange to British eyes. The upholstery material is plastic and the floor on covering rubber, which is a thoroughly satisfactory arrangement for the practical Swede but less luxurious than his counter­part in this country might expect of a £1372 car. Carpets are, however, offered for a few pounds extra.

Among the comprehensive equipment which is included in the initial cost of the Volvo are safety harness of an unusually good design, screen washers and two-speed wipers, and a very powerful heater and demister unit. Obviously intended for Arctic conditions this instal­lation was found capable of de-icing a thickly coated wind- screen in a matter of moments in conjunction with the radiator blind (another standard item) to help the engine warm up quickly.

Driving the Volvo in town it may be handled in a quiet, dignified manner befitting its unostentatious appearance. At low speeds the engine is docile and quiet and the car easily handled.

Away from the traffic, how­ever, the Volvo accelerates and handles like a real sports car. This quite large saloon has been developed to provide within the frame of a family sized car all the attributes of a thoroughly sporting machine.

The driving seat is fully adjustable for both fore-and-aft movement and backrest rake. Thus drivers, of almost any shape and size may be accom­modated at the big, nearly vertical, steering wheel and given a commanding view of the road and also the instruments, which are situated directly in front of him.

The speedometer is of the horizontal strip variety and satisfactorily readable despite the attentions of the stylist. Dials indicate water temperature and the amount of fuel in the tank, but warning lights serve for an oil pressure gauge and an ammeter. There are both total and trip mileage recorders, and the starter is operated by the ignition switch. The general finish of the facia is good and it is topped by a plastic safety roll.

The Volvo behaves well on the road. It has first-class steering; light, accurate, with a firm self-centring action, and providing a good turning circle (32ft.) for a 14ft. 9in. car. The roadholding is outstanding, there being a modest degree of oversteer and only a little roll on corners.

When pressed to the limit on fast bends the rear wheels break away in a safe, control­lable fashion, although on rough roads the rigidity of the rear axle becomes apparent. The body is quiet even when the suspension is working hard, and the drumming experienced on cobbles does not become objectionable.

Disc brakes on the front wheels give fade-free stopping from the Volvo’s maximum speed which is in the order of 95-100 m.p.h. Brake pedal pressure required is, however, fairly high for a car which may be driven by all members of the family, and, likewise, the clutch (which has a short travel) needs quite a firm push. The handbrake is by the driver’s right hand on the floor and is a good, stout, easily gripped lever.

The gearchange is the only control which seemed less than satisfactory. There is synchro­mesh on all four gears, but engagement of first with the car at rest could be a very difficult business indeed. Reverse has a heavy spring to prevent unin­tentional engagement and is noisy, but all the other ratios are inaudible.

Volvo: Seat Belt pioneers from 1959

Once on the move the gear-change is less unpleasant, but the lever itself is long and requires.an awkward movement of the arm. The synchromesh is powerful and cannot be beaten, and the gear ratios are very well chosen.

Overdrive was fitted to the model tested, and its engage­ment was effected by a slim lever on the right of the steer­ing column which matched the flashing indicator switch on the left. The latter also did service for flashing the headlights.

When the car’s performance is being used to the full the engine noise level increases appreciably. It is mostly air intake roar and not unpleasant to enthusiastic ears. On this latest model, the B.18, it has been subdued in comparison with the earlier slightly smaller-engined car. Mechanical noise is notably absent, although the heater booster fan was quite audible when working to capacity. This is a condition required only very rarely, how­ever, the heater being of such power.

A striking thing about the body construction was the gentle push required to close the doors. They operate in a manner reminiscent of a quality coachbuilt body.

In Britain

One item sorely missed when driving the Volvo fast is a rev counter. Used as a family car (which is really what it is counted as in Sweden) its absence would not be noticed, but the enthusiast using it and taking advantage of the 5000 r.p.m. available would almost certainly welcome an indication of engine speed.

In their efforts to secure the best, Volvo use components manufactured all over Europe. Many are made in Britain and some (including the whole electrical system) in Germany. The result is a car renowned for hard wear and hard work. It is a highly developed, pre­cision-built machine laid out along well-tried, thoroughly proved lines making few con­cessions to fashionable trends merely for their own sake.

It is fast and sporting as international rally successes indicate, as well as being roomy, businesslike, and comfortable, and is creating the kind of reputation which maintains its second-hand value at a much higher figure than many other imported cars.

The Volvo 122S B.18 was supplied for test by Buchanan of Glasgow, European car specialists, of Woodlands Road, Glasgow.