BMW officially launched the new M2 coupe at the North American International Auto Show. It is everything I think a BMW M car should be—and that’s why I can’t test-drive it.
The car is beautiful.
BMW touts it as the spiritual successor to the 2002 and the direct descendant of the M3 line. The car’s immediate predecessor is the BMW 1 Series M coupe. The M2’s looks and specifications convince me that BMW has captured the soul of the M sport coupe—but the only way to know for certain would be to drive it.
Which I can’t do.
Let’s compare the M2 to an earlier-generation M3 like the U.S. version of the 1995 E36 M3 in my garage at the moment. How does the new M2 stack up? Well, the F87 M2 and the E36 M3 are within two inches of being the same length, and they have almost-identical wheelbases. The older M3 is narrower than the M2, but it’s also shorter, so the width-to-height ratio looks as good.
The M2 weighs a couple of hundred pounds more than the E36 M3, but that’s obviously not a big deal, since the M2’s engine generates a whopping 125 horsepower more than the ’95 M3, and the M2 is quicker from zero to 60. The 1995 M3 came with a five-speed manual gearbox or an automatic transmission that I never heard anyone actually admit to buying. A six-speed manual is standard on the new M2, but a seven-speed double-clutch transmission (DCT) is also available; it makes the car quicker and easier to drive for those who aren’t proficient with a stick.
Back in 1995, BMW enthusiasts believed that the second-generation M3 was heaven-sent. That was true—but only if you define heaven as Erik Wensberg, the BMW NA M-brand manager, and Roundel writer extraordinaire Bob Roemer, who started a letter-writing campaign. Armed with fistfuls of letters from BMW CCA members, Wensberg fought for BMW AG to send us a U.S. version of the E36 M3.
Our selection of M cars had been pretty thin; the E30 M3 had been out of production for a couple of years, and the M6 hadn’t been built since 1989. That left the E34 M5, which was a great car, but it was bigger, heavier, and more expensive. And it had two more doors than many enthusiasts really wanted.
Fast-forward twenty years: The 1 Series M coupe has not been available for more than three years. The other M cars—the M3, M4, M5, and M6—are bigger and heavier, and most have two more doors than many of us really want. I think that the new M2 fills the same void now that the E36 M3 filled back in 1995. Everything I’ve seen about the new M2 leads me to believe it is fast, handles great, has great brakes, is very comfortable, and is very safe.
Any normal BMW nut would be aching to try one out for a spirited drive—but not me.
You see, this has happened before. (Insert flashback music here—maybe David Bowie?—and dissolve to 1994.) There I was, very happy, because in my garage were a 1976 BMW 2002 that I had bought new, a 1983 BMW 635CSi Euro that was grandfathered from EPA requirements, and a 1991 BMW K100LT motorcycle that was fast, smooth, and fun. I loved driving the cars and riding the bike. By the way, I also loved to fly, and was teaching flying at that time.
As I said, I was happy—or so I thought.
Of course, I knew all about the E36 M3. Wensberg had worked his magic, and a U.S. version was available—but I didn’t need another car. Then one day Betty and I were at Baron BMW having her ’95 BMW 525i shampooed. A sales associate asked if I wanted to take the new M3 for a spin.
“Sure,” I said. “What have I got to lose except a little time?”
Quite a bit, actually; the M3 turned out to be the car that I had been waiting for ever since I’d sold my Lotus Europa ten years before. It had amazing handling. It was fast, controllable, and comfortable. It spoke to me, saying, “I can make you a better driver than you ever thought you could be.”
I believed it—and it turned out to be true.
And at $36,500, it was affordable, if I was willing to part with some of my other treasures, and made room in the garage. So the 2002 went to a good home; the K100LT went to a guy in Florida; and the 635CSi went to—well, not such a good home, but that’s a sad story for another time.
I haven’t ridden a motorcycle since. Betty thinks it’s probably the reason I’m still alive, and she could be right.
The M3 and I started going to driving schools, which led to more driving schools, which led to driving two One Lap of America events. Over the years, the M3 steadily morphed into a driving school/track car, and from there it was a short trip to BMW CCA Club Racing. With all the high-performance driving, I no longer had the time to fly, and haven’t flown much since.
So there you have it. I test-drove a 1995 M3 and lost my bike and my 2002, and cut my flying and flight-instruction time to almost nothing.
Was it worth it? I’d have to say yes. I’ve had so much fun with that car, met many great people, and raced on some of the country’s greatest race tracks. I miss the 02 and the bike and the flying, but all things considered, I’m ahead on the deal.
But now there’s this new M2—and here we go again.
I have a garage full of BMWs. But BMW has just released the most exciting M car I’ve seen in twenty years. I can’t test-drive it because I can’t risk what might happen if I do. I don’t want to give up my M3 race car, I’m damn sure not going to get rid of the i8. I need the X5 to tow the M3, and I’ve already crammed four cars into a three-car garage. There simply isn’t any room, unless Betty is willing to part with her eighteen-year-old 528i, a car that she really loves.
Maybe she should test-drive the new M2…. —Scott Blazey
