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Saab: a brand with true character | Thank Frankel it’s Friday

16th August 2024
andrew_frankel_headshot.jpg Andrew Frankel

I wonder what thoughts pop into your head when I mention the word ‘Saab’? Perhaps it’s an aircraft, in which case the rest of this column is likely to prove a significant disappointment, or maybe it’s Erik Carlsson bouncing his way off snow drifts en route to yet another rally victory. Or perhaps it’s a slightly tweedy neighbour who owned an old 99 with a quarter of a million miles on the clock and while now scruffy in appearance drove as well as the day it was built.

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Mine brings a very different mix of memories. I last drove one around 15 years ago, when the company, no longer under GM ownership, flew me to America, business class and posh hotels all the way, as if money were never an issue. The car I was there to drive was just about fit for purpose but very little more, and certainly nothing to cause headaches in Stuttgart, Munich or Ingolstadt, and within a very short period of time the brand succumbed. I clearly remember thinking the company had better things than lavish press launches upon which to be spending its very small reserves of cash.

My first Saab experience, least the first I can recall from this distance, was taking a 900 Turbo to the Millbrook Proving Ground in about 1989, intent on extracting some meaningful performance figures therefrom. With a rather more experienced colleague sat next to me as ballast and data recorder, I revved the motor, dropped the clutch, slithered away from the line and, keen to demonstrate my demon fast shifting technique, as the red-line approached wrenched the gear stick back into second. Or at least that was the plan but it never got there.

The lever seemed to depart first, then appeared to wade into a vat of quick drying cement and just got stuck fast, while making some pained noises which, I was assured from the other side of the car, is what you get when a new gear is engaged before the old one has fully let go. I have no idea if that’s true or not, but I do recall him telling me not to worry as this was a well-known phenomenon with such cars. If so, thought I, why did he not bring another car and spare us a long walk to the station to get the train home?

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To be honest, I never really ‘got’ Saabs. Didn’t understand their dogged devotion to front-wheel drive, their often lumpy ride quality and the power delivery of small, turbo four cylinder engines. Why would you not have a rear drive straight-six, like those BMW were only too happy to sell you instead? Saabs were cars for freer-thinkers than I, for true iconoclasts, for people who knew what they liked and felt no need whatever to have to justify it to anyone else. Secretly I was often quite jealous of them, if not the cars they drove.

And yet, one of the most memorable experiences of my career came at the wheel of one. It was 1996 and Saab decided to drive a 900 Turbo around the Talladega Super Speedway for a week. Flat out. It was a crazy stunt, not least for its choice of location: a 900 Turbo was a quick car and a lap of Talladega at its top speed of over 150mph less than straightforward. If it was dry at least one of the corners was absolutely on the limit, and if you wanted any margin at all it helped to take a line across the lanes of its banked turns.

By the time I got there they’d already lost one car. Happily, they’d had the sense to take two so I was duly strapped into the survivor and sent out. The cars were completely standard in every respect, selected at random from the line by FIA officials and then mechanically sealed.

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Erik Carlsson was our rather impressive crew chief. I can’t say I was out there all week, in fact I don’t think I did more than a few tankfuls, each lasting an hour at that speed, but rarely have I concentrated harder for longer. What I actually remember most are the pitstops, because they came with Erik’s voice ringing loud in my ears reminding me that after an hour at 150mph, by the time you’re down to 30mph you feel like you’ve stopped. But it’s still more than fast enough to mow down much of your pitcrew if you don’t realise how fast you’re still travelling.

But I didn’t mess up, dozens of FIA class records were smashed and when I last cared to look them up, Saab still held plenty as the 30th anniversary approaches. My name is still on some of them too. I had the overalls until quite recently, too, but gave them away as part of a drive by Goodwood regular Ben Shuckburgh to gather up old suits so they could be used to help protect the motorsport community in parts of the world where safety standards are not what they are over here.

I can’t say I particularly miss Saabs no longer being part of regular working life, but when I think of them, particularly those developed before GM turned them into rebadged Vauxhalls, those thoughts are invariably warm. It was a brand with true character and, goodness knows we could do with a few more of those today.

 

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