By: Jesse Adams
Neuburg, Germany - Put in a room with a racing car designer and I’ll happily listen for hours about every last morsel of the car’s make-up.
Roll cages, rubber-lined fuel tanks and multi-function suede steering wheels are very interesting to me. But, put me in a room with a racing car designer with a giant window looking out onto a track where said racing car is warmed up and ready to be thrashed... and you can’t get me out the door fast enough.
Last week Audi invited me to test drive its new TT Cup car at the Neuburg circuit. I was there with 23 other journalists, racing drivers and celebrities from around the world to not only sample the car, but also possibly win a drive in an actual TT Cup Championship round in Europe. It’s the kind of golden ticket hobbyist racers like myself dream of, and I was more than anxious to get behind the wheel to prove my mettle. Or, lack thereof.
But first, I must endure a long-winded practical about roll cages, fuel tanks and steering wheels. Okay, it was only about about 10 minutes, but it felt like forever as mechanics teasingly revved the TT’s two-litre turbo engine just a few metres and a pane of glass away. Ah well, it’s probably best to know what all this machine’s buttons do before I hit the track.
Turns out there’s not a lot to learn. As per the marketing machine-speak behind any one-make racing series, it’s repeatedly beaten into my head that the TT Cup car here and its road-going sibling are mechanically very similar. Sure it wears an ironing board-sized wing, its suspension is wider, lower, firmer and designed to bash apex kerbs, and a once plush leather-lined cabin makes way for a painted metal jungle-gym. But other than that (and a few more obvious mods) it runs the same six-speed S-tronic gearbox, aluminium floorplan and front-wheel drive system as the 2.0 TT Coupé you can buy at dealerships right now.
Most of the lesson involves the steering wheel’s many functions, and while at first glance this button-bedazzled device is quite complicated I quickly realise most of it just replaces switchgear which has been deleted from the original dashboard. One button’s for wipers, another’s for windscreen squirters, interior fan, headlights and so on. At its top right is a yellow ‘push-to-pass’ button which gives the 228kW engine an extra shot of 22kW to aid overtaking. Later on I forget to try it, but I’m told it’s hardly noticeable anyway. The boost is worth only around a tenth of a second per lap.
SLIPPERY TRACK
Tutorial over and I’m finally buckled in with a four-point harness and ready to strut my stuff. It’s raining. Bummer. The TT Cup’s 18-inch gumball slicks have been swopped for treaded rubber, and I’m suddenly thankful for knowing where the wiper switch is. I get a few moments to acclimatise with surroundings before heading out onto the murky, misty and quite slippery track.
Immediately I notice the standard TT’s pedals are replaced with a proper floor-mounted pedalbox, which hinges from the bottom instead of the top. You sit very deep inside the cockpit, but the road-going TT’s adjustable steering column remains and makes it easy to find a view over the digital instrument cluster. I pull the (again standard) gear lever down into drive and right into Sport mode, and get away with zero fanfare. Pulling off is literally identical to any automatic Audi.
On to the main straight I give the wheel a jiggle just to familiarise myself with handling, and then blast off clicking the paddle upshifter twice before the first turn. They were right. It is very similar to the road car. The exhaust is a bit deeper sounding but very hushed by race-car standards, the dual-clutch autobox shifts in a remarkably similar way to a street-legal TT, and power is on par with most modern hot hatches. It’s surprisingly manageable and composed.
NEAT AND TIDY
But, about that first turn... As I jab the brakes my brain registers insufficient deceleration. That’s a fancy way to say I’ve gone in too hot. Grip is minimal on the greasy surface, and my TT’s nose pushes wide, very wide of the apex. So much for stuff-strutting. I’ve embarrassed myself on the first turn. I hope nobody’s looking, but know damn well I’m being watched via onboard telemetry.
Over the next few laps I settle down into something of a rhythm, focusing on F1-style shift lights and not missing brake markers again. It’s too wet to really assess the Cup car’s handling attributes, but its sensitivity to steering inputs is very evident. Turn a fraction too much under power and it understeers. A fraction too much under braking and the tail steps out.
With that golden ticket dangling in my face I try to keep things neat and tidy for the remainder of the session. I’ve only got one shot at this and I need to make it count. But it’s over all too soon. I’m called in via helmet intercom, and hand the car over to another racing hopeful. Did I throw it away in the first corner? Did I go too slow? Will they take the weather into account? Should I have remembered the push-to-pass button?
Audi Sport’s racing department is still busy collating data for all 24 guest drivers, and has yet to announce who’s in line for the grand prize. Holding thumbs.
This is identical to the car South African teenager Sheldon van der Linde will drive in this year’s one-make TT Cup Championship. The season comprises seven rounds of two heats each at tracks in Germany, Holland and Hungary. The first race is at Hockenheim on 2 May. - Star Motoring
Follow Jesse Adams on Twitter @PoorBoyLtd