THE 2010 Bathurst 1-2 finish by Holden gave me that warm fuzzy feeling you very rarely get in life. The Holden dominance was, of course, followed by a celebratory barbie and a couple of beers with mates which only seemed to accentuate the fuzzy feeling. As I saw the last of our friends out the front door, I cast my bloodshot eyes into the darkness where, sitting proudly in my driveway, was my Volvo V50 D5 Turbo.
Having been driving the glorious machine for the past 2 years, I suddenly felt a pang of something. Regret? Sorrow? Something else? Was it an epiphany induced by too many beers?
I was suddenly confronted with the question: why am I driving a Volvo?
I don’t even have a bald spot yet! A bit grey around the edges maybe and I’ve lost a couple of seconds over the 100m but I couldn’t find a bowls club if I landed on one and I’m no soccer mum…
So suddenly I wasn’t so sure about my choice of wheels. Although the Volvo has twin poo shoots and can kick some serious butt off the mark, it’s not a Holden and my mates back home would be laughing in the aisles if they knew I was driving a Volvo.
But what option do I have? A Vauxhall? Is that a real option? Could I quench my Holden thirst by getting myself a Vauxhall VXR8?
Firstly, what is that badge on the front? It’s not a lion. This is a GMH car based on the HSV Clubsport but it’s got a Griffin on the front. What the bloody hell is a Griffin anyway?
I decided I should take a closer look. I headed down to the dealership and checked it out but it just felt…, well, strange. Was I hoping for something more? I couldn’t really put my finger on it.
Was I getting emotional? I was definitely getting worried. Maybe this is what it feels like when you bump into your doppelganger in the pub and he’s drinking Pimms and ordering a Ploughman’s lunch.
The dealers had an R8 in the yard and it looked great but again something was wrong. It’s a bit like meeting the twin sister of the women you love….she looks the same but is totally not and just sitting in the R8 gave me a weird feeling.
Actually she’s not a sister, maybe more of a second cousin….
Perhaps it’s the history? We saw the Clubsport evolve from… well, I guess the VB Commodore or even all the way back to the original Monaros. The point is, we drove these cars; our dads drove them and our grandfathers. I used to sit on my dad’s knee and drive the HQ Prem up our street on a Sunday arvo.
The R8 is gorgeous, and sounds awesome, but for me it doesn’t quench anything. It’s just not the same and this is clearly a case of mistaken identity.
Read more: The ancient art of vodka warfare
However, I think I just may have a solution. When it’s time to trade up next year, my cunning plan to soothe that Holden yearn is to import a straight HQ V8 Prem from home. Pre ‘73 of course so then there’s no road tax. Win win. Better get ordering.
But this whole dilemma has begged a question. Could a Ford bloke go straight down and pick up a new Mondeo, and still get that fuzzy feeling?
Are you a Holden, Ford or … Volvo fan? Tell us below (and why):