Nissan GT-R, Mazdaspeed 3, Chevrolet Corvette Z06, Mitsubishi Lancer Evo, Pontiac G8 GT - Giant Killers

Porsche 911 Turbo vs. Nissan GT-R
By Don Sherman The Nissan GT-R,Japan's most earnest attempt to build a supercar capable of smiting the European standard-bearers, isn't perfect, but the savings over a Porsche 911 Turbo will easily cover a Boxster. True confessions: I never met a Porsche I didn't like. And, with personal experience stretching from the 1975 launch of the original 911 Turbo past the 2004 Carrera GT, my all-time personal fave, I've met more than my share of Stuttgart specials. Marque passions aside, it's clear to me that Nissan's brand-new GT-R is quicker, faster, and a better value than Porsche's iconic 911 Turbo. While the stats back me up, this row goes beyond zero-to-ticket acceleration figures and which sports car does the better job hustling through corners. This is the title bout for the near-200-mph supercar crown. This is where Godzilla stomps in from the Orient to slap Porsche's $127,060 prize fighter with its killer tail. On paper, the protagonists seem so alike. Each has the identical number of horses, cylinders, turbos, gears, and driven wheels (four). Nissan's GT-R project manager, Kazutoshi Mizuno, obviously scrutinized his enemy in intimate detail. What's amazing is how much his team got wrong. In my book, the perfect sports car wouldn't lounge on a 109.5-inch wheelbase, require six driveshafts, have its engine plopped atop its front axle, or crowd two tons at weigh-in. Give the GT-R points for succeeding in spite of itself. So how can the GT-R thumb flame-snorting nostrils at my principles and be so entertaining to drive? It's because Mizuno-san never had the slightest intention of creating the ideal sports car. The mission he accomplished was to nudge aside an elderly icon to clear a spot for the most exciting ride you can buy for less than $100,000. Allow me to define exciting. It's the sound of a feral V-6 rattling windows and rousing neighbors every time its chain is tugged. It's a suspension that's locked and ready to lap the Nordschleife when you are. It's exterior design so intentionally at odds with classic beauty and refined taste that the GT-R's wake is a continuous mess of dropped jaws, twisted necks, and pointing fingers. Where other cars have exhaust pipes, this one has five-inch howitzers. Excitement is a video-game interior with enough switches and screens to reprogram the most devout e-hater into a Super Mario game boy. It's a shopping cart overflowing with so much carbon fiber, forged aluminum, and NACA ducting that Mizuno-san deserves the SAE's highest commendation. The GT-R beats the 911 Turbo by skipping traditional virtues. The Nissan rump badge is negative cachet. Couth is not part of the package. The GT-R's cockpit is an endless cavalcade of clanking gears, rattling shafts, whirring tires, and booming exhaust serenades. The "comfort" setting for the adjustable dampers and the 480-hp rating are two blatant lies. I hate the piggish, tire-chunking understeer hiding at the GT-R's cornering limit. Only the Japanese would engineer a four-wheel-drive car that spins its rear tires when you pull the launch trigger. I forgive these sins because the GT-R's paddleshifted dual-clutch automatic is such a ready source of entertainment. The other thing I love about the GT-R is the sharp stinger it pokes in Porsche's eye. How long do you think Stuttgart will sit back and allow the GT-R to surpass the 911 Turbo at the Nürburgring? Answer: not long.