The CTS-V had an aftermarket exhaust, custom wheels, and clearly a driver with an attitude to match the monster at his fingertips.
Then the Ferrari FF appeared in the lane beside it.
This thing was bone stock and ugly in the way that only a car geek could love. It had my attention.
The CTS-V owner had not only also noticed the red wedge to its left, but had clearly watched Top Gear and knew that a CTS-V can easily hand a Ferrari its ass in a straight line.
The Cadillac opened the taps and a symphony of finely tuned, supercharged OHV V8 fury resounded like a heavenly chorus as the CTS-V rocketed toward the horizon. The Italian hatch accepted the challenge and dug into its reserves as the tail squatted and the exhaust note sang across the Bellevue landscape with the soul stirring beauty of Luciano Pavarotti singing Ave Maria.
The race, Ladies and Gentlemen, was on.
Yes, the Ferrari exhaust note was beautiful, but I have to hand it to whichever sound engineer was behind the Cadi's design: Well done Madam or Sir. The Cadillac sounded like a lion gargling bees at the gates of hell. It was terrifying.
The Cadillac had deeper power reserves and consequently demolished its fine Italian competitor in their display of ferocity.
If I were a Prius owner, or the guy with the hippie nonsense pasted across my rear bumper pleading for coexistence or the protection of endangered southern Arizonian shrubbery, then this would be no more than a waste of fermented dinosaur juices. But I am not, thank God. I am a car geek. I am the guy who was audibly cheering and who momentarily took his hands off the wheel long enough to raise them in the manner necessary to express my delight. Basically, I looked like an idiot on a roller coaster heading into a death-defying loop-de-loop.
Please, if you are considering the purchase of a CTS-V, whether wagon, sedan or coupe, I strongly urge you to do so. If not for yourself (and there's no loser there), then for the benefit of your fellow gear heads.
And if you own the Ferrari, I'll gladly dispose of your shame by accepting the vehicle and punishing it accordingly.
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