The legendary Ferrari F40 is, and has been for decades, my favourite Ferrari. Nay, my favourite car, full stop. I owned one once. A Burago scale replica, of course. Not the real thing. A few cars have pushed it close at the top of my automotive rankings. Jaguar’s XJ220 is a beaut. Ferrari’s Testarossa is the most classic Pininfarina design of my lifetime. I also had a real soft spot for Alfa Romeo’ SZ.
All of these cars come from the same time period – late 80s/early 90s. I was of that age when boys are thoroughly impressed by fast cars. These were among the best. I remain thoroughly impressed. The era was almost littered with fabulous motors that combined the essence of the sports car with the latest technology. Before the latter became as important, or more so, than the spirit of the sports car concept.
In the late 80s I worked in a shop in East Horsley, Surrey. Across the road was the largest Ferrari dealership in the UK, with a forecourt full of teenage boys wet dreams. Everyone of them the ultimate clunge magnet. And every week, this kid my age turned up for his Saturday job, cleaning Ferraris. Once I saw him get into one and drive it across the forecourt. I just wanted to punch him in the face. I still do, a little bit.