Toyota Celica 2003 News
My GT4 Group A Rallye Toyota Celica
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By AMANDA BLAIR · 03 Feb 2011
"I first saw her spinning around in the Pennant Hills showroom in 1994 and knew I had to have her," Morris says. I "I was actually there shopping around for a MR2, but it only took a look at the Celica to change my mind."
Even the 'gulp factor' of the price tag didn't dampen his enthusiasm. "It cost $93,000 - the list price at the time was $78,000, but it had been fitted with a few options.
"It was a bit more than I went down to spend. But I couldn't argue with that, because it was about the only one left in Australia... they brought 77 out and each dealer got only one. So I thought "if you want the car, you've got to pay".
"I left a $50 deposit - that was all I had in my pocket - and came back the next day with the full payment. She was mine!"
Morris says his love of the car hasn't faded a bit since that day.
"It's still beautiful. Our relationship is now almost 17 years old and each day I look at her I still smile," he says. "Everyone that notices her out on the road turns their heads to have another look - and are lost for words when I tell them how old she is. Like any fine red, she improves with age."
Morris has resisted any temptation for major modification to the Celica.
"An exhaust system change and different wheels are the only mods," he says. "Nothing needs to be changed - she is perfect. She is very forgiving when being driven, always responsive when asked, and very exciting to drive.
" I feel privileged to own her. She just gets better with age. She's only got 92,000km on the clock - which isn't a lot for a car of that age. I don't want to wear her out".
1994 ST205 Toyota Celica GT4 Group A Rallye.
Engine and outputs: 2.0-litre, 178kw
Transmission: 5-speed manual, all-wheel drive How many built: 2500 world wide (to qualify for world rally entry) Australian allocation: 77 Cost When New: $93,000 Value now: $35,000
Cars play name game
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By Paul Gover · 27 May 2010
A Mustang is a wild brumby in the USA but also one of the all-time best muscle cars; the LandCruiser does just what the name says, even if the land is the worst of the Australian outback; and the Enzo is a tribute to the man who founded the world's best-know supercar company, Ferrari.But the name game can go badly wrong. The Nissan Cedric was never going to be a hit in Australia with a name that creates a picture of an aging uncle Arthur in a cardigan, Taurus is tough in the USA but was always going to flop against the Falcon, and the Skoda Roomster has just been dumped after failing to find a home down under.Holden was careful to avoid the VD in its Commodore line, but why did it start with the VB and not the VA? And what about the Statesman, which went well as the WB but was never updated into the WC? Just this week I was following a Citroen Jumpy delivery fan in Portugal, and wondering if the name was a reflection of the driver's behaviour or the way it runs on the road.The craziness goes on and on, like the Citroen Picasso people mover which is anything but an oil painting. Today's showrooms also have cars whose names have more numbers and letters than a cryptic crossword, with just as much meaning. Who really knows the difference between an A7 and a C350?But head back in history and there are some absolute clangers. Henry Ford named the 1950s Edsel after his son, but is now recorded as one of the biggest flops in blue-oval history. Japan has given us everything from the Daihatsu Rocky and Rugger to the Honda Ascot and Acty Crawler and on through the Isuzu Big Horn to the Subaru Justy.Nissan created the Tiida name from nothing, even though it claims it has something to do with waves breaking on a beach, and Lexus is even a made-up brand name, in contrast to Mercedes which was named after an early Daimler customer's daughter. Over in America, the AMC Gremlin was a flop, the Dodge Neon never went up in lights, Plymouth Reliant never lived up to its promise, and the Lincoln Town Car was so big it needed its own postcode.Even some of the names which have worked create more questions than answers about their creation. The Kia Mentor is more likely to need one, the Honda Jazz is not much of a music machine and the Suzuki Cappucino was too frothy to sell in Australia.Some names also paint a picture because of their history. Mention Celica and lots of people in Australia think hairdresser. Ask about the Nissan GT-R and you'll hear about Godzilla.Camry is shorthand for fridge-on-wheels, Kingswood is classic sixties kitsch, and then there is the Goggomobil. So, what's causing a Rukus today? The Toyota Rukus, for a start.We could also get the Nissan Cube, which is as boxy as its name, although Nissan Australia is also pushing for a return of the Pulsar badge which worked so well before the silly switch to Tiida. Right now we have the Skoda Superb in Australian showrooms. If that's not a name which creates a serious expectation then we don't know our Falcodores.When Toyota was looking for a new name for a mid-sized car alongside the Camry it thought it had the ideal choice. It settled on Centaur - the mythical man-horse - because it sounded tough. But no-one at Toyota Australia had taken into account a nasty incident in World War II during the battle for the Pacific.A hospital ship called the Centaur was sailing towards Brisbane when it was torpedoed and sunk by a Japanese submarine. The idea of a Toyota Centaur sunk even faster. The Centaur badges were crushed, all the paperwork was changed and so was the advertising. The Centaur quickly became the Avalon for Australia. How do we know? Carsguide made the call to Toyota to warn about the problem. Japanese cars have always led the way in the silly-names race. How about the Mazda Bongy Brawny? No, not the name for an off-road tough SUV, it was the badge on the back of a city delivery van with a 1.3-litre engine.Everyone has heard the story about the Mitsubishi Starion, and whether the company's sales team actually meant to call the turbo coupe the Stallion. And then there is the Pajero. It's called the Montero in Spain, because Pajero is the word for something usually done alone in private.