Three years ago, I got the chance to drive a 1990 Nissan Skyline R32 GT-R. And it might be the high point for being excited to drive a car since before I got my driver’s license. Why? Because of two factors: one was the forbidden fruit point. The Skyline GT-R was, for the longest time, the unavailable, the car you read about and crashed about forty times in the first minute of playing Gran Turismo, but it was the car you didn’t have your hands on unless you had a buddy who knew a guy at Motorex who knew how to keep the Feds off of your case. It didn’t disappoint. From someone used to 1970s Yank barges and built-up muscle-era rods, the Skyline was a treat, a testament to how sweet an inline-six could be, and how fun a little boost could make things. It wasn’t my car, and I knew that it was already sold, but I let the car eat through third gear and good lord…beautiful. It was beautiful.
But let’s think about it for a second. We have an eye for the past, and as car freaks we always think that whatever was in the past was the best thing ever. I’m guilty. My 1987 Monte Carlo SS from high school days has been on my mind lately, but 180 horsepower from a very underwhelming 305 was only fun when I was stepping up from a minibike. That GT-R was a beast in it’s day and it’s a known fact that the “275 horsepower” rating was a complete crock of shit that was only listed to satisfy the Japanese “Gentlemen’s Agreement” deal. But that Skyline is thirty years old or thereabouts. So how does it do against a late-model Nissan Maxima that’s packing about the same horsepower and has more computers working to put the power down?
