I stood beside a Porsche public-relations man at the company’s Atlanta headquarters looking for the last time at our long-term Cayman S, determinedly not saying what I wanted to say, which was, “How much money would it take to make this my personal car?”
Even with 40,000 miles on its clock, I knew the Guards Red, lightly optioned Cayman S was out of my reach. Turns out, the PR guy was going through the same quiet calculations: “If the car started at 72 grand and I could get it for its auction price, then . . .” But the math didn’t work for him, either.
I had just driven the thing from the frigid north down to Porsche’s tiny bit of Germany in America as a sort of homecoming (and to goof around on the company’s little road course). It was like one of those Saturn homecomings in Spring Hill, Tennessee, more than a decade ago. But instead of mediocre economy cars and the people who felt inexplicably passionate about them, I was driving arguably the best all-around sports car on the market. My passion was justified, and I would be leaving without what I’d grown to think of as mine.
I arrived in Atlanta on the very day Porsche announced the Boxster and Cayman would get a new name (718) and confirmed what everyone already knew: That the model would lose, in about a year’s time, its gem of a naturally aspirated flat-six in favor of a new turbocharged flat-four. So integral to the appeal of the Cayman is its delicious exhaust and intake noise that the thought of it going silent—of not getting to experience it again in this particular car or in any future Cayman—was genuinely saddening. Complete review on www.caranddriver.com, by Clint Davis