Top Gear

Tonight, I point at some fields,

Richard minces round a corner,

and James describes his ideal night in.

Vomit and sputum, and other bodily secretions.

Hello, good evening. Thank you so much. Thank you.

Thank you. Now, we begin,

we begin with the Range Rover Sport.

After eight years, it's gone out of production.

They are not going to make any more.

And this is a good thing,

because there's always been one major problem with it,

as Richard Hammond shall now explain.

Here we are, then. The soon-to-be deceased Range Rover Sport.

There are many things you might object to about this car.

But the biggest problem has always been very simple.

It's the badge - Range Rover Sport.

First of all, underneath this is the chassis of a Land Rover Discovery

so it's not a Range Rover,

and because it's the chassis of a Land Rover Discovery,

it weighs nearly three tonnes.

So it's not sporty either.

Its success hinged on appealing to people who didn't know that,

or indeed, anything.

Basically, this car was only bought by two types of people - footballers

and people who were married to footballers.

And the Sport's stamping ground is this place.

The Premier League ghetto of Wilmslow in Cheshire.

Genuine Georgian electric gates right there.

And there. And there.

Georgian security cameras.

Manicured lawns, very popular for spit-roast barbecues.

Apparently, they drink more champagne per head here

than in any other county.

Class.

The people of Wilmslow are going to miss this car,

but before they start weeping onto their marble breakfast bars,

I have some good news.

Because now there is a new one.

With prices starting at £50,000, it's cheaper than a proper Range Rover

and because it's available with seven seats, it's more practical, as well.

But like I said at the beginning,

the old Range Rover Sport was a bit of a fraud.

The question must be, is this one really a Range Rover

and is it a Sport?

Let's start with that first bit.

No matter how much wood and leather it's fitted with, the mark

of a real Range Rover is being able to tackle this sort of stuff.

Important work being done, coming through.

Well, the first thing you need to know

is that this is not a Discovery in a Range Rover frock.

It has the proper Range Rover chassis

and the same terrain response system, as well.

This analyses the ground you're driving over

and automatically adjusts the suspension, gearbox,

brakes and engine output to suit.

Big, big, almost vertical hill now!

Very steep, very steep, very muddy.

That is... that is a climb.

Well done, you.

Besides the terrain response, there's also a computer

that disconnects the anti-roll bars to increase wheel articulation.

We're over.

I mean, that was a big old cross-axling hump to get over.

It didn't even notice!

And there's more.

Ah! Water.

Good. Gives me a chance to play with something else I have on board

and that is...

sonar. Kid you not!

Sonar transmitters and receivers in the door mirrors

measure the depth of the water.

It will make a big noise if it's getting too deep.

It's not worried, not worried.

I feel like I'm driving a luxury hotel room through a swamp.

Cool.

Oh-ho! That's steep!

Just pretty much like it never...

There, I think I've repaired that.

More or less. That's how it was.

Good.

So, there we are.

This car, in the right hands, is very good off-road.

And now, we must move on,

to this bit of the badge.

Welcome to Donington Park racetrack,

and if the Sport is as sporty as Land Rover claims,

it should put on a good show here.

Now, you can get these with a V6 or a V8 diesel.

The one I'm in is the supercharged petrol V8 with 503-brake horsepower,

so that is the power taken care of.

And because it's built on the brand-new all-aluminium chassis of the proper Range Rover,

it's getting on for half a tonne lighter than the old Sport.

That turn, lift, and then it comes around and then bang!

503-braked all four wheels and off you go!

And as well as the weight loss,

the computer-controlled suspension fights body roll,

and there's an active rear diff like you'd get on a BMW M5.

It also has something called torque vectoring,

which dictates how much power is sent to each of the wheels and when.

I mean, that is supercar stuff.

That's what you get on the McLaren 12C road car.

What's staggering me right now

is that hurling this car around this racetrack,

it doesn't feel like I'm asking it to do anything it doesn't want to do.

It feels at home.

All in all, on a track, it's good. But how good?

Well, to find out,

we must, as ever, call on the help of the world's chattiest racing driver.

Today, The Stig is in a Mini John Cooper Works GP,

one of the most hardcore hot-hatches you can buy.

And now, he's going to use it to set a lap time.

When you're ready... go!

Now, let's find out

if that can be beaten by the big, bulky four by four.

And to oversee proceedings, I shall ride shotgun.

The beauty of this is,

he has no idea what that last car was called, no idea what he's in now.

Doesn't care. No bias, you see.

All he can do is try and go as fast as he can.

And we're off!

Head towards the first corner, not braking at all for the first corner.

Oh, that's very, very quick down there!

Some wee might have come out there.

Whoa! Brakes work. That's good.

I'm not worried about putting him off

because this is just like a quacking noise for him. It's irrelevant.

It's worth remembering about now

that this is still a very big, heavy car.

It weighs more than the heaviest Mercedes S-class.

But even at Stig speed, the Sport seemed to have everything in order.

We should be The Leaning Tower of Range Rover Sport right now,

but somehow we're not. It's fantastic!

We just crossed over a minute.

That's the longest protracted tyre squeal

in the history of tyres and squealing.

Oh, that is... My, that was flying.

Chicane! That is fast.

And on to the final straight.

129.8 to beat.

129.5. There it is.

So, after years of writing cheques it can't cash,

this car has finally earned the right to be called the Range Rover Sport.

Massively better than the old one. Massively better. Yeah.

And definitely worthy now of the Range Rover Sport badge,

but I'd still prefer to have the big proper Range Rover.

No, because if you buy the big one, you'll spend half your time

wishing you'd saved 20 grand and bought the Sport.

No, because you see, the thing is,

the proper Range Rover has a split tailgate,

which all Range Rovers should have. Look. That one doesn't have this.

No, but the Range Rover Sport is better looking.

It's better to drive, and you can get it with seven seats.

Yes, but when I take my dogs for a walk, OK,

they leap out and I look at that

and think, "Yes! You know what, I'll have a nice sit down."

So your walks are spent sitting down? Yeah, I like sitting down.

What, so you'd spend £20,000 basically on a bench?

Why wouldn't you buy the Sport

and one of those folding chairs from a petrol station for a quid?

But it isn't just the bench.

This is bigger, and bigger, as we know, is always better than smaller.

Well, not always, not in...

Not in bruises, it's not.

Not bruises, no. Premium Bond wins.

Heart attacks.

Erm...

Fireworks.

Unexpected bills.

Ladies, can you think of anything which is better

when it's bigger than smaller?

Now, the news. And a couple of weeks ago,

on the way back from the show, going along the A3,

I was held up for an hour and a half by an accident.

When I eventually got to the front of the queue,

expecting a scene of devastation,

I found a Fiat 500 with the bumper hanging off at one end...

Oh, no! Two of the three lanes closed,

and then just a load of people in uniforms sort of milling about.

These people in uniform, James, let me guess,

were they by any chance Highway Agency Traffic Enforcement Officers?

Ah, yes. I knew they would be. We've spoken about these people before

and I think we should speak about them again

because they were employed by the Highways Agency

to keep the roads open, and all they ever do is shut them. Yeah.

As soon as they get their first job, "Right, must close the road."

"Dislodged door mirror? Close the road."

"Child a bit carsick? Close the road."

"Someone says they've got whiplash? Close the road. It's serious."

Whiplash, by the way, is not a serious injury, it's insurance fraud.

And that's all they do and they've got to be stopped.

I think they should only be allowed to close the road

if certain words are being used to describe the incident.

"Inferno", "crater", "apocalyptic."

"Felt in Japan." Yes.

"Can't find the head." Yes, yes.

If Sally Traffic says that on the traffic report,

"Can't find the head", then you can think about closing the road.

But you still have to ring somebody for permission and that is me.

I'd basically never give them permission.

I would remind them that their job is to clear up litter. Yes.