Man Maths: Ford Focus RS (Mk1)

Then there is the FF factor – the huge ‘fast Ford’ fanbase that means there is rarely a lack of demand, as one generation after the next satisfies that urge to scratch an itch and treat themselves to an ST or RS.

Unfortunately, the boat sailed long ago. Tidy examples are twice the price they used to be. They’re even more expensive than the final, four-wheel drive, drift-mode-engaged Focus RS. And tempting as it always is, you have to be wary of the cheap ones that appear affordable. They tend to be plagued with rot – a common problem (what is it about Fords of the 2000s era?), with the sills and wheel arches first to succumb to the brown creep, and plenty more said to lurk where the eye can’t see.

But goodness they still look fab. I wandered round one at Bicester Heritage’s April Scramble. That Imperial Blue metallic paint still dazzles. Those ‘New Edge’ angles still look crisp. The just-so ride height, OZ-wrapping flared arches and jutting chin still hint at the WRC machines piloted by McRae and Sainz.

Admittedly, the interior is an acquired taste. But there was never any debate over the effectiveness of those Sparco seats, the driving position and the feeling that the car is the product of a skunkworks that cared about the same stuff you and I care about (and with Richard Parry-Jones, Martin Leach and Jost Capito overseeing things, it was quite some ‘skunkworks’). So there’s an engine starter button, a smattering of carbon fibre, Sparco pedals and handbrake handle, and a boost gauge nestled in the left corner of the instrument binnacle.

I literally left my mark on that car, my wedding ring rubbing against the Sparco aluminium gearknob of the long-termer. I racked up many, many more thousands of miles than Ford’s PR people were expecting. It went all around the UK, matched up with the RenaultSport Megane 225 in France, stormed down to Morzine for skiing, met up with Capito for a fast blast at the end of the Geneva motor show – on and on it went. I never tired of it.

The car was alive, up for a good time, and dug deep when you pushed the brakes and asked tough questions of the Quaife limited-slip diff as there was no other form of traction control, just you and your right foot. Some outlets – notably Evo – didn’t get on with the car but mine drove well and never failed to put a smile on my face. Chris Harris ran a Focus RS at the same time while working with Autocar and was similarly smitten.

With 1275kg to lug about and 212bhp and 229lb ft of torque from the turbocharged 2-litre Duratec lump, it was plenty quick enough – 0-60mph took 5.9sec you could see north of 140mph – but for me it was the car’s tenacious character as it ducked and dived its way across country that made it such a hoot. It wasn’t flawless, but the likes of the Golf R32 wouldn’t see which way it went.

Relatively few of the Mk1 Focus RS were built (4501, with nearly 2150 sold in Britain) and plenty have been, shall we say, enhanced by owners who care not about originality. Find an unmolested car, don’t get too hung up about mileage – rather, look for no-expense-spared maintenance – and you will experience an undiluted driving experience even Colin McRae enjoyed.

As for me, there’s no room in the Mills garage and a good Focus RS is out of my price league – unless I sell both my Integra and M3, which really would be a textbook example of Man Maths getting the better of someone. I guess I’ll have to be content with the original press pack that I still have and, of course, those memories.