We wanted to write Ferrari a love letter.

Okay. That’s a bit much.

A thank-you note.

That’s better.

It would have been dated October 2008.

We just never got around to sending it.

There were some distractions.

Friends were trying to get out of cars they weren’t going to be able to afford by throwing them on Swapalease. Many worked for financial institutions that suddenly might not exist on Monday. Life savings were evaporating at a breathtaking pace. And everybody was learning what a credit-default swap was against their will.

You know.

2008.

Roll the calendar back a few months to May 13, 2008.

Ferrari tells us the new car everyone had been calling the Dino wasn’t going to be a Dino at all. Think of the naming like the Nissan 400Z was just a few years back.

“IT’S NOT A 400Z! Blaaah!”

Settle down. Nobody cares. 

“Dino” was not just FerrariChat lore either. Major mainstream automotive media used it for Ferrari’s then-secret F149 project back in ‘07.

By May 13th, news coverage put the name speculation to an end bluntly: the new Ferrari would not be called Dino “as long suspected,” but California instead.

The same report already carried the production car’s official 460-PS direct-injected V8 and sub-four-second claim.

That was that.

It was the California.

Then Ferrari just rolled out the all the new kit.

And, this little fucker banged. 

The first front-engine V8 Ferrari road car.

• The first direct-injected Ferrari road-car engine.

• The first seven-speed dual-clutch Ferrari.

• The first retractable folding hardtop in a Ferrari. 

• The first multi-link rear suspens…

You get it. 

All in the SAME car.

The SAME ONE people were already preparing to shit talk.

And yes. Of course we heard it all.

The Maserati jokes.

Shut up.

“The wife’s Ferrari.”

Where’s your wife’s?

“The soft Ferrari.”

Suck it. 

“The Ferrari for people who didn’t really want a Ferrari.”

Whatever.

We’d like to blame all the cynicism on the fact that the global financial system was actively preparing to throw itself down a flight of stairs.

Except people can be dicks when it’s nice outside too.

Anyway. We liked the California.

It was fun.

It had a personality.

And, okay.

It is kinda cute.

And some of the impressions weren’t exactly fabricated.

It was easier to drive. More comfortable. You could put the roof down, leave the transmission in automatic and go get dinner without pretending you were qualifying at Monza.

That was kinda the point.

But Ferrari didn’t just build the California and move on.

They used it to try shit.

The dual-clutch gearbox. 

Seven speeds. Two clutches. Getrag.

The California made 358 hoof-pounds.

The gearbox was rated for more than 550.

Ferrari had left themselves a ridiculous amount of wiggle room.

On purpose.

Because a year later, the 458 drops.

Dual clutch.

Direct injection.

Ferrari V8.

Suddenly some of the weird California things weren’t weird anymore.

They were just Ferrari things.

That's what most of the jokes about the California missed.

Ferrari wasn’t lowering the bar. This “comfy roadster” played a major role in the development of the next generation of Ferraris. 

And damn near twenty years later, you can buy the thing they tried all this on for less than $100,000.

Naturally aspirated Ferrari V8.

Two clutches.

Roof disappears.

And enough of a reputation problem that the market still lets you get near one without selling your house.

So, damn.

Anyway.

Ferrari, we never sent the note.

Thank you.