The Blake Project offers $100k worth of free brand consultancy to GM

General Motors is probably swimming in ideas and getting another thousand offers every day on how to turn the company around – there are fifteen pages of responses on the Tell Fritz site alone, and those are just the questions the GM CEO has answered. Add the company's recent advertising issues to that, and the internal suggestion box is most likely brimming as well.

Enter The Blake Project, a brand consultancy firm that is offering GM $100,000 worth of time for free. That won't include economy travel expenses, but will include a day with the firm's three-man team of Jack Trout, Brad VanAudken, and Mark Ritson, to "share insights, ideas and expertise."

What might those insights and ideas be? Some of them were looked at in a piece called "New Brand Strategies for GM." The first task given is to define the brands, e.g., Chevrolet should stand for something like "Good value, variety and heritage," instead of "big, small, expensive, cheap, truck, van or sports car." Buick should "stop making cheap Buicks," and Cadillac "can never be a prestige car. The fancy imports dominate that category." Is that glimpse worth setting aside a day of GM's time? If anyone at the General thinks so, click the link below...

[Source: Branding Strategy Insider]

Review: 2010 Nissan GT-R

Being an automotive journalist is like being a male porn star. We're little more than Piloti-shoed buffers between the reader and the objects of their lust, and really, no one cares about us. Still, you only get one chance to make an initial impression, so my first review here on Autoblog had to be big. As luck/fate would have it, I got a phone call a few weeks back that went a little something like this: "How'd you like to drive the first 2010 Nissan GT-R on the West Coast, before the buff books get it?" Needless to say, the answer was obvious. But what to do with the brand-new R35, one of the most heavily and relentlessly covered car-stories of the past year? This takes us right back to that porno metaphor: How do I give the people what they want?

We hatched a plan – take the uber-Nissan down to San Diego and pay a visit to Comic Con! A story about 400-pound guys in Batman suits drooling all over the new GT-R practically writes itself, so we contacted various video game companies to see if they would let us drive the GT-R right onto the convention center floor. Perfect! Our stunt would be like lowering a nude, greased-up Megan Fox into a frat house. What could possibly go wrong? Without getting into the epic fail of that last bit, it didn't happen. What you're left with then is yet another review of a Nissan GT-R where some "pounding at 11/10s" wannabe hamfists Godzilla through envy-inducing, tight, twisty Southern California canyons. Lucky you... err, me.

My task then would be to answer the following: There's endless talk about whether or not the Nissan GT-R has a soul. Yes, we all know it's supercar quick and hypercar capable. And yes, Japan's most recent foray into the segment can utterly dominate and humiliate most British, Italian and German machines – all costing two, three or five times as much – and give like-minded American all-stars a run for their ACR/ZR1 money. But is the GT-R anything more than a numb supercomputer, mindlessly parsing bits of data and then spitting out traction and velocity? Are its capabilities a credit to Nissan's mechanical engineers, or its electrical wonks? To put it another, more Comic-Conny way, is there a ghost in Nissan's machine?

The big news is bye-bye launch control.

First and foremost, we should cover what's new for 2010. The big news is bye-bye launch control. We found the GT-R's penchant for grenading transmissions humorous (from a distance), but alas, farewell. However... maybe it's still there? Maybe Nissan was only telling people launch control had been deleted? We found a very deserted stretch of road, put the transmission and suspension into R mode, turned the VDC all the way off, planted our left foot on the brake pedal and pushed the throttle with our right. Instead of the tach zinging up to 4,500 rpm, fuel cutoff happens right around 2,000 rpm. Launch control is deader than last Thanksgiving's turkey. That's not very soulful.

That said, the Transmission Control Module (TCM) has been reprogrammed. Not only can the six-speed dual-clutch gearbox shift faster (when in R), but the chances of a customer having to shell out $20,000 for a new cogswapper is greatly reduced. The 2010 GT-R also sports five more horsepower, bringing the total to 485, while torque output remains unchanged at 434 lb-ft. Rumors still persist that since each GT-R engine is hand-built, power levels vary and some engines churn out as much as 520 hp, if not more. Let's chalk this up to some engines running 100 octane and others dealing with California's crapola 91 high-test. Bottom line, the power feels freakishly adequate.

The suspension's been retuned and the Bilsteins are a new design, while the brakes (somehow) have been revamped and fitted with more rigid lines and fresh pads. Our Premium GT-R tester arrived with dark, "near-black" wheels and when coated in Super Silver (like this car) you get a polished front bumper (there's also a new hue called Pearl White). More power, faster shifts, better handling, stouter brakes, blacker wheels and a transmission that's much less likely to eat itself? That sounds fantastic. Soulful, even.

You cannot fit your hand between the front and rear thrones.

As far as looks go, let's face it: You've been staring at the GT-R through your computer screen for as long as I have. Not a single body panel was changed for 2010, so you either love it, or you're indifferent. I will say this, Godzilla is huge. I knew the Nissan was a big boy, but it's nearly ten inches longer than a C6 Corvette; its wheelbase is fifteen inches longer than a Porsche 997. But hey, we were able to fit a case of wine and a large pizza in the trunk, so I'm sure owners aren't complaining too much about the GT-R's dimensions.

Well, maybe a little about the back seat. No joke: You cannot fit your hand between the front and rear thrones. Even children would be miserable. As far as the front of the cockpit goes, for a Nissan, it's pretty much okay. For an $86,000 vehicle, it's not nearly as nice as you'd like. Sure, there's leather all over the doors and on part of the dash, but it's budget, cheap-feeling leather, not that opulent, veal-fat rubbed and pleated cowhide you'd find in a Spyker. However, all that really matters is the usable stuff. The pedals, steering wheel, flappy-paddles, seats and handbrake are all up to supercar snuff. Especially that burly handbrake.

So then, how's it drive? In a word, Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. From a standing start, the forward thrust is obscene. Pornographic, to stick with our earlier metaphor. 60 mph happens in less than four seconds (thanks to launch control delete, the GT-R no longer hunts in the 3.2/3.3-second Enzo/ZR1 woods) and the quarter-mile is annihilated in less than twelve. Trap speed? 120 mph, give or take. Top speed? North of 190 mph.

All these numbers are as quick or quicker than a $200,000+, all-wheel drive, paddle-shifted, 552-horsepower Lamborghini Gallardo LP560-4 or a $280,000 502-hp Ferrari F430 Scuderia. But forget about the numbers, the price tags and the competitor's badges. Instead, concentrate on the massive brutality taking place and hair-splitting wail of the turbos at full clip. You get to watch the scenery deform all around you as the buzzing builds to full cresendo. After giving one pal a quick blast up an empty freeway, he didn't want to shake hands because his palms were so sweaty. The GT-R is a face-puller, a neck-snapper, a pulse-pounder. Especially when you're banging off shifts in half a second with one of the world's finest paddle-shifted dual-clutch gearboxes. And that's in default. Pop the transmission into R-mode and the shifts are over and done with in two-tenths of a second. Bloody hell, indeed.

Yeah, yeah, yeah -- 485 hp cars with 434 lb-ft of torque and AWD traction should be blisteringly fast when pointed straight. But the GT-R weighs over 3,800 pounds. Can the near two-ton porkster mechanically handle the twisty stuff? Simply put: Yes. But 'handles' is not even the right word. Dispatch, conquer, dominate, tear asunder, murder – that's it – the GT-R murders corners dead. Starting with the donk-sized tires (255/40 R20 in front, 285/35 R20 out back), moving to the retuned suspension and ending with the innards of a Swiss watch-fancy AWD system, the GT-R has world-class Stickum.

3,829-pound cars shouldn't change direction like Barry Sanders in his prime.

If I may quote McLaren F1 designer Gordon Murray after he climbed out of the Bugatti Veyron for the first time, "One really good thing, and I simply never expected this, is that it does change direction. It hardly feels its weight. Driving it on a circuit I expected a sack of cement, but you can really throw it at tight chicanes." Replace the word "circuit" with "stomach churning canyon road" and those are my sentiments exactly vis-à-vis the 2010 GT-R. 3,829-pound cars shouldn't change direction like Barry Sanders in his prime. Yet this one does.

Did I mention the stoppers? Going by the ancient caveat, "A car's only as good as its brakes," the new GT-R is the third best car in the world. Period. Cymbal-sized 15-inch discs at all four corners and six-piston Nissan-branded Brembo calipers join forces to mess with the space/time continuum. Slowing the car from 60 mph is near effortless. When you dip deeper into the near-bottomless well of power -- say around 140 mph – the brakes still work flabbergastingly well, hauling you down to something resembling a speed limit in mere moments. At one point in downtown L.A, a school bus cut us off and neither driver nor passenger were the least bit worried. Why? We'd been using the brakes all day – we knew.

Ah, but here it comes. Here's the part of the story where I'm supposed to tell you that yeah, you can hoon a GT-R harder and faster than a Lamborghini or a Ferrari. But the Italians are works of art, a living, breathing symphony filled with arias pointed right at the heart of an automobile where man and machine become one via harmony, divine intervention, etc. The GT-R? Nothing but a Silicon Valley automaton, precisely but passionlessly going about its servile duties while totally disconnected from the world around it and driver within. Well guess what? I'm not saying that – or anything resembling that. In fact, I'm going to say that those who complain about the GT-R's supposed soullessness simply aren't pushing it hard enough. Because once you do, you hear the angels sing. New rule: All observations concerning the GT-R at less than 80 mph or 5,000 rpm (whichever comes first) are meaningless. Under that and Godzilla's not even breathing hard.

When the gloves come off (transmission's in R-mode, suspension's in R-mode, VDC's in R-mode, nitrogen-filled tires are nice and warm and tacky) not only can the new GT-R rundown the aforementioned farm animals, but it's just as rewarding to drive – if not more so. Why? You can brake later, you can hold the road longer and you can blast out of corners quicker. Isn't that why we drive? Like many great cars, the GT-R seems to shrink when pushed, and the harder and meaner, the smaller it gets. Italian exhausts sound a thousand times better, but the GT-R is simply the better supercar. You'll be continually shocked that such a heavy, civilized and inexpensive car is not only capable of, but eager to rotate on its axis, accelerate like a rally car over busted pavement and keep its driver cool/comfortable after hours of use and abuse.

One caveat: during all of our testing we left the VDC on (except for our ill-fated attempt at launch control) and in R-mode for several reasons. The first being that Nissan strictly forbids operating the car with the VDC defeated unless you're stuck in snow or mud – it straight-up voids the warranty – and we didn't feel like returning a handful of broken half-shafts and shredded gears to the good folks at Nissan. The second reason being that most of our evaluative drives were on two-lane public roads with the high possibility of oncoming traffic and blind corners.

The GT-R inhabits the same plane of existence as Porsche's legendary 959.

That said, the VDC in R-mode has such incredibly high limits that we were able to register full back-to-back 1g lateral acceleration pulls in two different directions (as indicated by the g-meter oscilloscope) again and again and again. The car almost never lets go. And if it does step out (journo-speak for, "I entered the corner too hot, mashed the brakes while chopping the wheel and staring at a squirrel"), the sensation is akin to a hand reaching down from the clouds, grabbing hold and gently performing a quick course correction – the same way you used to play with your Hot Wheels. There's no sudden loss of power, no cruel nanny coming in like a guillotine. Just a little bit of wiggle, and you're back in the game, pushing the edge of the envelop, gunning for an M6, Ducati Monster, Dodge Viper and a few Ferrari F430 Spiders (yes, we did). Over the course of five days, five tanks of high-grade gasoline and more than 600 miles, we experienced the full force of the VDC saving our butt exactly once. And yeah, it was when we were trying to pull away from the damn Ducati.

So what's up then? Why the bum rap? Why do so many journalists (and I can't name names because I'm friends with so many of them) write off the GT-R as highly competent but ultimately soulless? Sure, it's one of the four or five most mindboggling performance vehicles on sale, but... meh. They just don't dig it. Besides not driving it hard enough, here's another explanation: Remember when compact discs came out? There was a seemingly endless series of interviews on MTV with guys like Tom Petty bemoaning the loss of the pops, hisses and scratches inherent to records. The flaws were part of the sound, man. You can't flip a CD over – how do you know what side of the record is playing? That's fine, but it's just knee-jerk reactionary nostalgia.

Let's look at the 2005 winner for supercar bang-for-the-buck: the Corvette Z06. It makes about identical power compared to the GT-R, but weighs 700 pounds less. Yet the GT-R is faster, both in a straight line and around corners. Stops better, too. Neat party trick, no? Yes, laying fat, smoky strips of incinerated rubber a hundred feet long is fun, but it's old fashioned, and in many ways, it's making the best of a compromised situation. On the other hand, the GT-R inhabits the same plane of existence as Porsche's legendary 959. Better driving through science. Of course, the Nissan is faster, more nimble and worlds less expensive than my favorite Porsche. Now I'm not blind, deaf or numb. A certain number of imperfections do add flavor. But that's hardly the only way to build character. Might I suggest a 485-hp, twin-turbo 3.8-liter V6 coupled to a fancy-pants AWD system and a dual-clutch tranny from hell? For my money, that's about as soulful as a car gets.

[Source: Autoblog]

Many Tata Nanos to be used as taxi cabs?

India currently has just under 1.2 billion residents. Moreover, its population is set to overtake China any monsoon now. As India's economy continues to grow (currently the world's 12th largest) all those people now have places to go. We've all seen crazy pictures of fantastically overloaded Indian trains and buses with people hanging out of windows, but not only is that very dangerous, if you have a business meeting the last thing you want to do is sit on a dirty old roof with three dozen of your closest friends. Indians need taxis. Trouble is, cabs (and cars in general) are expensive to buy and poverty is still rampant. Enter the Tata Nano.

That's right, the world's cheapest new car is being eyeballed and ordered by many Indian entrepreneurs looking to start their very own cab company. Yes, Nanos are small and would make very lousy cabs in NYC or London. But to a person that's never owned a car before, it's (sorta) Versailles on wheels. And as the Nano is a no-frills, few features product, there's very little to break, so what does get broke will be cheap and easy to fix. In the biz, that's called "win-win." Besides all that, we're thinking that hundreds of thousands of Nanos darting all over Mumbai would be cute. Sort of like Rome in the 1950s.

[Source: Autocar]

UK police replace Imprezas with Lexus IS-F cruisers

Objects you do not want to see in your rear-view mirror: Hungry dinosaurs, pissed-off exes holding rifles, mushroom clouds and this guy. Indeed, you're looking at a Lexus IS-Force, an IS-F that's been converted to a cruiser for police duty in the English county of Humberside, which includes the notoriously criminally minded port city of Hull. For the past few years, Humberside bobbies have been chasing baddies in Subaru Imprezas, but the AWD cars just weren't up to the task at hand. What to replace 'em with? Here's what the cops were thinking, according to Sergeant Mike Peck:

"The Lexus was tested during a 12-month period along with similar vehicles and proved itself to be ideally suited in providing a dynamically safe high performance chassis along with an electronically stable platform for the computer equipment. In the past this equipment has placed huge demands on vehicles but the Lexus IS-F easily met with our requirements. The final product provides a most formidable package and is undoubtedly one of the most advanced police vehicles in the world which in turn enables my officers to deal with the criminals who use the roads for serious and organized crime."


We're actually a little weak-kneed at the very thought of the IS-Force's existence. 416-horsepower 5.0-liter V8s with the power to yank your license tend to have that effect. Even on crooks.

Felipe Massa's skull fractured by track debris during Hungarian GP qualifying

Yesderday during Formula 1 qualifying in Hungary, Ferrari's Felipe Massa suffered a life-threatening head injury when a spring from Reubens Barrichello's car struck him in the helmet. As you'll see in the ESPN video posted after the jump, the impact appears to knock the Brazilian unconscious; immediately after the incident, his car simply drives straight into the runoff area and tire wall.

Massa was reportedly conscious when he arrived at the hospital, where he received a CT scan and underwent successful surgery to treat two skull fractures suffered as a result of the accident. He was placed into an induced coma immediately following the procedure and remains in intensive care. Doctors talking to the BBC described his condition as stable and said there were no complications following the operation. Another brain scan will be performed on Massa later today, after which the medical team will update his condition. Massa's injury comes on the heels of Henry Surtees' death last weekend, the result of the young driver being struck in the head by a flying tire. Massa's on-track incident left some F1 personnel openly wondering whether it's time to make changes that improve cockpit safety for drivers. Fortunately, things appear to be progressing well for Massa, and we wish him a speedy and full recovery. Follow the jump for ESPN's video report on the incident, which includes the on-car-camera view of what happened.

[Sources: Sky News, Formula1.com,Racing-f1.com]

BMW 760li to start at $136,600?

If we told you about a new vehicle powered by an all-aluminum twin-turbo V12 putting out 544 hp and 553 lb-ft of torque, you'd assume it's a high-dollar supercar. However, we're not talking about some sleek, sexy Italian -- it's the extra-large and in charge 2010 BMW 760li.

BMW Blog reports the new 760li is ready for dealer order, and sources indicate the price tag will start at $136,600. That's $50,000 more than the 750li, but it's over $10,000 less than a comparably equipped Mercedes S600.

The site also reports that the 760li will carry an achingly long list of standard features including an eight-speed automatic transmission, 19-inch wheels, active steering, blind spot detection and fancy ceramic controls -- a lot of Bimmer for a lot of cash. Pricing and info for the 760li haven't been released on the BMW USA website yet, but expect all the details to hit in a few days.

[Source: BMW Blog]

Review: 2009 Audi TTS

The Audi TT is a highly entertaining package -- good looks, great personality, terrific cabin feel, solid handling and a good price. Yet with the TTS here and the TT-RS on the way (well, not for us Americans, but...), the TT becomes something like The Girl Next Door who you just found out has two hotter siblings. That doesn't mean you have to stop loving The Girl Next Door... but you're eyes may have a tendency to wander. Autoblog spent a week with the middle sister who was out to steal our hearts with an upgraded turbocharged engine, brilliant all-wheel drive and a flamboyant paint job.

Choosing the S version of any Audi is like ordering a large combo meal – it avails you of more of everything. Your grand hunger for speed, handling and details is meant to be sated by more horses, a better suspension and sharpened bodywork. The TTS addresses this under the hood by adding dollop of forced-induction goodness to the already turbocharged 2.0T FSI engine, juicing its numbers by 65 hp and 51 lb-ft of torque over the base TT for a total of 265 hp @ 6,000 RPM and 258 lb-ft @ 2,500 RPM. The 3.2-liter V6 TT is also down, by 15 hp and 22 lb-ft. Outside, the TT S lords its burliness over both its staid siblings with an angrier front fascia, rear skirts and rocker panels, chrome mirror accents and 18-inch split-spoke wheels.



If all of that proves insufficient, you can dress the car in Solar Orange, or, as we preferred to call it, Orange Julius. And there's nothing wrong with that... if that's what you like.

We're still not sure which came first: the Metrosexual or the TT.

But the performance – and color – issues aren't the only hurdles for the TTS to overcome. The initials "TT" don't merely serve as a model name, they are a way of life. TT, which stands for Tourist Trophy, is a holophrastic moniker that describes a car as well as its buyers, much the same way as "M3" and "Lexus". Just like the chicken and the egg conundrum, we're still not sure which came first: the Metrosexual or the TT. That means that anything wearing a TT badge needs to stand for something, and stand for it well.

Starting from the outside, one of the endearing qualities of the TT family is the perfect mix of spatial contradictions. We think of it as a small car, which lends itself to the idea of being a sports car. Yet it isn't that small – it's two feet longer than a MINI and 18 inches shorter than a G37 Coupe. Open the door and the cabin appears half buried in the ground, and small to boot. In truth, the car is no hassle to get into, and the cabin feel is just the right kind of enveloping: well and truly roomy yet still cozy, even intimate. The seats carry you far in comfort. The controls are merely a thought and a modest reach away.



The ergonomics, knobs and switches in the current TT don't make the same impact as those that sprang on scene in The Cabin, but they too are mindlessly simple to employ – save the MMI's handling of iPod tracks. When you flip through a folder, it lists the track's number, not the name, and although we're intimately familiar with the contents of our iPod, we have no idea which song is #86 and which one is #8624. That shortcoming has been addressed in the latest version of MMI and earlier versions can be upgraded, but still...



Cargo space is also laudable, especially when we fall back into that small car feeling. On a run to the airport, the hatch area had room for a large carry on bag, a larger suitcase, a backpack and a laundry bag, and there was still room. And we hadn't got to the back "seats" yet. The surrounding quotes are necessary because the TT S doesn't have thrones for rear passengers – it has a leather-trimmed parcel shelf that resemble seats. Forget about putting people back there. No, really, just fuggetaboutit.

The TTS, like any middle sister, faces a difficult life.

We admit it's taken us a while to adore the styling of the new TT over its predecessor. The original Bauhaus version was a stylistic knockout, but we've come to appreciate this new version as it's just too easy, too simple, too inviting and too relaxing to run at high speeds. For some reason, every TT we've piloted finds its sweet spot at 80 mph. In our hands, that's the car's groove, and when it's there it sings. Do anything less and it feels like driving though treacle.

It was the stretches we spent getting to 80 that made us go "Hmph." The TTS, like any middle sister, faces a difficult life: it can't outdo its more expensive supermodel TT-RS sibling, but it has to be sufficiently more impressive than its younger, less experienced sister. And as we said, those other "lower" versions are terrific little cars.



The accelerating experience quickly demonstrated the difficulty of the challenge. The single, more powerful turbo on this car's 2.0-liter four-cylinder comes equipped with gobs of lag. Be anything less than bad-cop-coercive with the accelerator, and you feel like the engine and turbo are deciding among themselves when they're going to hand over the power. Stoplight dashes are dispatched with ease as the turbo quickly kicks in when you floor it from a standstill. But when on the roll, if you goose the throttle, the TTS doesn't try downshifting or laying on the turbo first; it tries to pull itself up with torque. Frankly, there just isn't enough of it. If you're on the roll at 40 and know you're going to want to get to 80 with quickness, you might want to call ahead and make a reservation for some boost.

The palliative for this condition is Sport mode. Contrary to all the cars with utterly useless Sport modes, we'd go so far as to say that to really enjoy the TTS you need to flick the proverbial switch. The fact-acting DSG drops down a gear or two and instead of having boost delivered like a pizza, in thirty minutes or less, you get what you want with microwaved quickness. Get things above 2,000 rpm and it gets good; get up above 3,000 and it's as sweet as you like. Blast offs at any speed are not only fun, they're fun to listen to. First gear is left behind after a couple of feet, and you get right into the thrill of the engine revs, turbo and DSG acting in triple-time sequence: rev - chuff - shift, rev - chuff - shift, repeat.



Nevertheless, as with nearly all remedies, there is a side effect: in Sport the TTS is noisome, a tad frenzied. You won't notice when you're flogging the sucker, but on the urban cycle there isn't much to distract you from the din. When the car downshifts in Sport and revs are given a workout, the car tends to buck when raising the stakes from fourth to third. The only way to dispense all that is to put the car back in Drive, and that means a return to leisurely going – or a brutally firm right foot.

Pick your speed, your turn-in point and attack the apex. There's nothing more to do.

Traverse that hurdle – say, by punishing the car in the canyons – and the dynamic experience is demonstrably more polished than the base TT. The regular TT needs to get settled into a turning stance before you tackle a corner; you pick your speed, dial in some steering, let the car settle, then really turn in and get to work on the accelerator. Not so with the TTS, which, with its lighter, firmer aluminum suspension is always in its turning stance. Pick your speed and your turn-in point and attack the apex. Nothing more to do. Even chicanes and quick changes of direction won't unsettle it.

What can unsettle it, just a by a tiny fraction, is not being mindful with braking. The brakes are superb and easy to modulate, but when the going gets thick they have a tendency to unceremoniously clamp down, upsetting stability. The TTS is 3,252 pounds, but that welcome svelteness for flickability and on the top speed run – the car gets to 60 in 4.9 – turns into a little dancing number when hard on the anchors over uneven roads. On nasty roads, the car can be downright skittish, but isn't always. It would rather not deal with bumps through turns, but it doesn't mind them. Even with all that, the TTS is still a sight better than the non S versions. These were things we simply learned to adjust to and deal with, not things that kept us from refilling the tank to go on another run to the Hall of the Mountain Kings.



It was at this point we realized this hotter sister still hadn't convinced us to leave The Girl Next Door, the regular old TT we fell in love with first. Then we found out what the TTS costs: Our kitted-out Orange Julius will come home with you for $52,075. The base price is $45,500, with things like navigation, the Premium Plus package and the Silk nappa leather package making the difference.

Audi has filled the TTS with the details it's known for: terrifically cross-stitched leather interior, a hood latch that's the wonderfully easy to find and use, knobs on the steering wheel that save us from having to figure out buttons, MMI, fantastic sound, a tactile bounty, that cabin, the new skirts and the chrome tips, and just the look of the damned thing. But... most of those features are on the regular TT. A TT 2.0T FSI starts at $35,200. Try as we might – and we don't feel we have a reason to try that hard – we can't find it in our hearts or in the seats of our pants to show up with $10,300 to add an S to that name. And if the TTS is $45,500 to start, we shudder at the coming MSRP of the TT-RS, which sounds sure to force a supermodel budget upon you for its supermodel looks.



On the other side, compare the TTS to a Cayman and it's hard to go the way of the Porsche. The Cayman starts at $50,300, and by the time Porsche and its relentless options list have beat you down you're going to be well and truly over that number. What's more, the Cayman is slower than the TTS to 60 mph by over half a second. To match the Audi, you'll need to throw your checkbook on top of the Cayman S, with its 4.9-second sprint to 60, and then you can keep that "60" theme going with the Cayman S gut-punch purchase price of $60,200. Sure, dynamically you're going to give up some tenths to the Cayman S if you're in the TTS, but even if you left the Porsche dealership in that mid-engined hotrod for MSRP, there are a lot of things you could to a TTS with the $8,000 you saved by going for the Tourist Trophy.

As for us, well, we'd still go with the regular old TT – maybe splurge on the 3.2-liter if it had been a good bonus year. The middle sister is hot and all, but The Girl Next Door, so wonderful in her own honest way, remains just too good to walk away from.

[Source: Autoblog]