The tale of Porsche 964 vs Maserati 3200GT - my experience (+pics)
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Well, it was the best of times, it was the worst of times. I had a new job, young kids, both with that default hyperactivity that they all seem to come programmed with these days, and a 964 that was showing the first signs of moodyness after 9 great years together (sound familiar?)
The ABS was playing up to start with, in a way that defied the usual fixes. 'The guy' said he or his electrician could certainly fix it, and after some not inconsiderable time spent in the pursuit of internationally recognised standards of cocking about, he was later to be proved correct, but only in some ways. His electrician fixed the headline part of the fault (the warn lights and buzzer), but unfortunately not the less annoying but probably important at times part where the ABS was still throwing a fault and turning itself off after the first 30 seconds of each drive. So, he bodged it, in other words.
Undeterred, I took it to another better but further away guy, who took a look and said, perceptively, 'this has been bodged to hell in the wiring and I'm not touching it till it goes back to stock'. So I went back to the first guy, whom I should mention has an interesting approach to customer relations that generally relies overheavily on the use of a sense of possible immediate violence at any provocation. He responded to the unfortunate news by saying that his autoelectrician was a c.....(clown, probably), and had left anyway. But he was sure he could still fix it. Well, great.
About this time, she started intermittently not working too. Ignition would increasingly suddenly drop out under load, which was bad for the cervical vertebrae after a while, not to mention interpersonal relationships with other road users. I took it to the second guy (who is OK), who thought it might need a new twin distributor (hall sensor I think), but who tried to fix it as best he could in the meantime. It got me almost home, before the amusing power/no power behaviour returned. And still no ABS, and probably no possibility of passing an MOT test as a result.
Now, the Maserati 3200GT has long seemed to me too be A Very Interesting Prospect, for all the usual reasons. These including the 3.2 litre twin turbo V8 with 370hp and 365 lbs/ft, four real seats, all of that poltrona frau leather, that shape, those boomerang tail-lights, that name. Built by Ferrari, for those who prefer not to shout, as they slip away from the muse apartment of their Milanese mistress at 5.30am.
Except that, for some reason, this package is available for the price of a used Golf and the promise of very little depreciation. Yes, that promise also includes an MPG of under 10 if you have fun, and rather healthy servicing and repair costs (£800 per active shock absorber, £2500 for an ABS brain, £1500 for a triannual belts service etc.) But a brief look around of the forums shows that there are a lot of people happily spending a lot of money on repairing newer and still-depreciating metal (the BMW M's, the AMG's, the Carreras and Cayennes to name but a few. And Golfs.). Its also a cliché now, but it is indeed surprising how much money the permission to use the phrase 'lets take the Maserati' is worth to a weak willed and overcompensating non-Italian, non-playboy like myself. Especially when the Maserati is properly pretty and generally reliable, as opposed to one of the fragile de Tomaso era fright-pigs.
So I sold the apparently unfixable ABS fault-ridden, non running, and increasingly rusty 964 to the first guy. For £7000. And then bought the first 3200GT I ever saw in the flesh, because it had my initials in the number plate, from a chap in Edinburgh. A 1999 manual. It’s hard to capture the dimensions in a photograph, which are wonderful – the uncluttered Aston proportioned lines, the cut off tail, and the details like the lack of bodywork joins between front wing/A pillar/roof/C pillar and rear quarter, the subtle kick-up lip on the boot, and the gorgeous diffuser containing the quad exhaust pipes. No wings here, thankyou, I am Italian and already cooler than you. Ciao.
![](http://i172.photobucket.com/albums/w2/johnnygpipe/feb10015-1-1.jpg)
![](http://i172.photobucket.com/albums/w2/johnnygpipe/feb10008-2.jpg)
![](http://i172.photobucket.com/albums/w2/johnnygpipe/interior008-1.jpg)
![](http://i172.photobucket.com/albums/w2/johnnygpipe/DSCN5625-2.jpg)
To cut a long story short, I would certainly recommend it, but do not expect a 911 – even one from 10 years earlier. The doors clang shut, the seats are comfy but not sporting, it corners like the heavyweight GT it is, and you can forget heel and toeing into a tight downhill set of turns. The DBW throttle will politely ignore you, and the old girl will just charge onwards along her selected trajectory. But once loaded up in a corner, the front end grip is enough to make a seasoned 911ist cry into his black vinyl dashboard. And summoning all of the horses at once is always amusing, as you disappear off towards the horizon (or which ever way the car had decided to go at that particular time, as the diff is rather tight, the throttle oversensitive) - all in a whoosh of turbo hiss and V8 yowl. But it doesn’t make you overtake everything like a 911 does. Most of the time I just enjoy the luxe, and tap into the motor’s talents when needed. And so I’m keeping it. For a little while at least, because…
..we recently had a call from a guy who said – ‘I just bought your old 911 as a job lot, do you have any of the history and paperwork?’ He was planning to flip her, but when I pointed out the rust, which was letting water in the front and rear screens by now, (and the oil leaks) I think he decided he couldn’t face the trouble, and I persuaded him to sell her back to me. It is important to note that BOTH the ABS and running problem had been fixed by now – apparently by Porsche. There is a story behind how the first guy arranged for this to happen, but its not for the internet. And so, 6995 of my pounds later (!), she is back. Or she isn’t, because I immediately sent her for some plastic surgery by way of an apology – as discussed on the other thread. I cant wait til the next 10 years with her, from that thunk of the door, to that hug from the sports seat, to the extension-of-your-nerve-endings feel on the road, to that motor that revs to the limiter with so much joy, the way all four tyres hook up out of the corners, the tuck-in of the nose when you instinctively do that lift-off thing, to the way she hunkers down on her brakes as the rearward weight does its magic. There’s nothing like a 911, especially one that’s 21 years old.
Friends reunited:
The ABS was playing up to start with, in a way that defied the usual fixes. 'The guy' said he or his electrician could certainly fix it, and after some not inconsiderable time spent in the pursuit of internationally recognised standards of cocking about, he was later to be proved correct, but only in some ways. His electrician fixed the headline part of the fault (the warn lights and buzzer), but unfortunately not the less annoying but probably important at times part where the ABS was still throwing a fault and turning itself off after the first 30 seconds of each drive. So, he bodged it, in other words.
Undeterred, I took it to another better but further away guy, who took a look and said, perceptively, 'this has been bodged to hell in the wiring and I'm not touching it till it goes back to stock'. So I went back to the first guy, whom I should mention has an interesting approach to customer relations that generally relies overheavily on the use of a sense of possible immediate violence at any provocation. He responded to the unfortunate news by saying that his autoelectrician was a c.....(clown, probably), and had left anyway. But he was sure he could still fix it. Well, great.
About this time, she started intermittently not working too. Ignition would increasingly suddenly drop out under load, which was bad for the cervical vertebrae after a while, not to mention interpersonal relationships with other road users. I took it to the second guy (who is OK), who thought it might need a new twin distributor (hall sensor I think), but who tried to fix it as best he could in the meantime. It got me almost home, before the amusing power/no power behaviour returned. And still no ABS, and probably no possibility of passing an MOT test as a result.
Now, the Maserati 3200GT has long seemed to me too be A Very Interesting Prospect, for all the usual reasons. These including the 3.2 litre twin turbo V8 with 370hp and 365 lbs/ft, four real seats, all of that poltrona frau leather, that shape, those boomerang tail-lights, that name. Built by Ferrari, for those who prefer not to shout, as they slip away from the muse apartment of their Milanese mistress at 5.30am.
Except that, for some reason, this package is available for the price of a used Golf and the promise of very little depreciation. Yes, that promise also includes an MPG of under 10 if you have fun, and rather healthy servicing and repair costs (£800 per active shock absorber, £2500 for an ABS brain, £1500 for a triannual belts service etc.) But a brief look around of the forums shows that there are a lot of people happily spending a lot of money on repairing newer and still-depreciating metal (the BMW M's, the AMG's, the Carreras and Cayennes to name but a few. And Golfs.). Its also a cliché now, but it is indeed surprising how much money the permission to use the phrase 'lets take the Maserati' is worth to a weak willed and overcompensating non-Italian, non-playboy like myself. Especially when the Maserati is properly pretty and generally reliable, as opposed to one of the fragile de Tomaso era fright-pigs.
So I sold the apparently unfixable ABS fault-ridden, non running, and increasingly rusty 964 to the first guy. For £7000. And then bought the first 3200GT I ever saw in the flesh, because it had my initials in the number plate, from a chap in Edinburgh. A 1999 manual. It’s hard to capture the dimensions in a photograph, which are wonderful – the uncluttered Aston proportioned lines, the cut off tail, and the details like the lack of bodywork joins between front wing/A pillar/roof/C pillar and rear quarter, the subtle kick-up lip on the boot, and the gorgeous diffuser containing the quad exhaust pipes. No wings here, thankyou, I am Italian and already cooler than you. Ciao.
![](http://i172.photobucket.com/albums/w2/johnnygpipe/feb10015-1-1.jpg)
![](http://i172.photobucket.com/albums/w2/johnnygpipe/feb10008-2.jpg)
![](http://i172.photobucket.com/albums/w2/johnnygpipe/interior008-1.jpg)
![](http://i172.photobucket.com/albums/w2/johnnygpipe/DSCN5625-2.jpg)
To cut a long story short, I would certainly recommend it, but do not expect a 911 – even one from 10 years earlier. The doors clang shut, the seats are comfy but not sporting, it corners like the heavyweight GT it is, and you can forget heel and toeing into a tight downhill set of turns. The DBW throttle will politely ignore you, and the old girl will just charge onwards along her selected trajectory. But once loaded up in a corner, the front end grip is enough to make a seasoned 911ist cry into his black vinyl dashboard. And summoning all of the horses at once is always amusing, as you disappear off towards the horizon (or which ever way the car had decided to go at that particular time, as the diff is rather tight, the throttle oversensitive) - all in a whoosh of turbo hiss and V8 yowl. But it doesn’t make you overtake everything like a 911 does. Most of the time I just enjoy the luxe, and tap into the motor’s talents when needed. And so I’m keeping it. For a little while at least, because…
..we recently had a call from a guy who said – ‘I just bought your old 911 as a job lot, do you have any of the history and paperwork?’ He was planning to flip her, but when I pointed out the rust, which was letting water in the front and rear screens by now, (and the oil leaks) I think he decided he couldn’t face the trouble, and I persuaded him to sell her back to me. It is important to note that BOTH the ABS and running problem had been fixed by now – apparently by Porsche. There is a story behind how the first guy arranged for this to happen, but its not for the internet. And so, 6995 of my pounds later (!), she is back. Or she isn’t, because I immediately sent her for some plastic surgery by way of an apology – as discussed on the other thread. I cant wait til the next 10 years with her, from that thunk of the door, to that hug from the sports seat, to the extension-of-your-nerve-endings feel on the road, to that motor that revs to the limiter with so much joy, the way all four tyres hook up out of the corners, the tuck-in of the nose when you instinctively do that lift-off thing, to the way she hunkers down on her brakes as the rearward weight does its magic. There’s nothing like a 911, especially one that’s 21 years old.
Friends reunited:
![](http://i172.photobucket.com/albums/w2/johnnygpipe/pickingup911.jpg)
#4
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I tried one of these Masers before buying the C2. Not really for me, I'm afraid. Not as quick as I expected, and a little remote in involvement.
Felt a little fragile & 'brittle' and reminded me a bit of an Integrale I once owned.
They do look and sound great though, especially the boomerang lights version.
Welcome back to 964 land!
Felt a little fragile & 'brittle' and reminded me a bit of an Integrale I once owned.
They do look and sound great though, especially the boomerang lights version.
Welcome back to 964 land!
#5
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Well told and congrats on getting your old friend back in the stable. Maserati's really do have an allure all their own...classic styling, sneaky power and a magical sound.
And now you don't have to update your avatar.
And now you don't have to update your avatar.