At what point does your enemy become your strongest ally? I’ve made no secret that of all the automobiles ever made, that the one that angers me the most is the Ford Granada/Mercury Monarch/Lincoln Versailles lineup of the 1970s. The final, bloated form of the Ford Falcon, the Granada line touted itself as a Ford made Mercedes, a way to get luxury on the cheap, a way to look royal without paying out the tailpipe for the goods. Did it work? I’m not convinced. The closest I’ve come to liking one of these things was a two-door, four-speed, 351-powered example that was more raggedy stock-car inspired street bomber than anything else. This two-tone, vinyl roofed Ghia four-door, complete with Northeastern rust at no extra charge, should be so deep on my shit list that I’d need a trackhoe in order to dig deep enough to find it.
Yet…it’s not. I’m never going to love the looks. I’m always going to bitch about the two gauges and twenty idiot lights that Iacocca thought would be ideal in this car. I’ll always take a four-door Maverick over a Granada any other day of the week. But the car that Fuel Injection Sucks built up has a party piece under the hood, a green-top Barra six from Australia, and it finally works properly. Care to know how properly? Hit play. Watch the car’s behavior as it walls the converter while spooling up. Enjoy as they stripe a local road. And just wait until you hear what this 1970s slushbarge actually lays down to the tire now.